#this was written as a continuous piece and i am not about to make anyone suffer thru a solid wall of text

[ughdontbeboring]

hidden.

Feyd x WoC Reader (can be read by anyone tho)

you and Feyd have this thing and it can never be more.

warnings: Feyd bc let’s be real, smut, a little degradation, breeding kink

note: I love feyd, don’t know if I did him justice at all BUT the need to write him just won’t leave me be. I have a few others in the works so let’s see how it goes. Also no proofread, it’s late and I’m horny so yea.

No description of ethnicity but reader when I write is always written with myself in mind. It’s soooo self indulgent.

if you like it, love it, fuck with it leave some love. I DO NOT give permission for my shit to be used anywhere by anyone.

x

x

You know you shouldn’t be doing this but you just can’t help yourself. In all honesty how could you be expected to control yourself and behave like a lady of a great house when HE exists, when he was fucking you completely stupid against this cold wall in a darken slightly hidden hallway in the fortress. 

You were extremely thankful this meeting of the great houses was taking place on Giedi Prime because not a living soul on this planet would dare speak of seeing the sight that the two of you made. Completely lost in each other, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist as he fucked into you with a desperate need, his muscular ass on display, your face full of pleasure as he bite love marks into your chest where your breast were fully exposed - because he knows there’s less chance of anyone seeing and he only even thinks of that for you and your honor - His plump lips pulling a nipple into his soft wet mouth to suck making you cry out.

Even your handmaids could be sent away and wait where they wouldn’t be spotted without you because he could do so on his own home planet though he probably could manage it on any planet he was that feared. You were lucky enough to sway your father to let you bring the only two you knew you could trust. 

You could hardly keep your thoughts together when a particularly hard slow thrust made you scream out. You knew you were caught letting your mind wonder. 

He tsked against your ear, his blacken teeth nipping the lobe before his tongue flicked it.

“Am I boring you my lady?” His deep raspy voice questioned in the deathly quiet hallway. 

“No my love, know s-sometimes can’t help it” You answered breathlessly as you pulled your head back, your hand cradling his cheek as your eyes finally found each others.

Sometimes you got too caught in your thoughts and worries about being found, something he didn’t like. He was the kind of man that didn’t like anything to take your attention away from him and with the limited time your both able to find to be together he demanded you were fully present with him at all times and if not he’d have to bring that pretty little mind of yours back to the situation at hand.

He smirked, it was then you realized he had pulled out. The empty feeling sitting in. 

“Then let me help you” 

Before you could respond his thick long cock was pushing past your sensitive lips and burying its self deep within you to the hilt. You choked on your own scream as his pelvis pulled back and snapped forward with another hard thrust. You felt every veiny inch of him within your slick tight walls. 

“Oh fuck” you moaned eyes rolling back as he continued his short brutal thrusts “oh Feyd, please”. 

“Please what?” His deep voice mocked.

“Please, please wanna cum” you mumbled hardly getting the words out as your head fell backwards into the wall.

“Would you let me fuck you like this in front of all of them? In front of him?” He mocked some more, the “him” carrying the hatred you knew he had for the man he viewed as weak that your father had promised you to. 

“Oh god yes! ‘M all yours!” You yelled desperately, pinned to the wall like decor, a fine piece of art as he drove his cock into you at that tortuous pace. It was hard, slow and deep. 

His large rough callous hands which were somehow still soft held your bare ass under your dress to keep you in place as he fucked you. His fingers tips gripped you so tight you were sure there would be bruising. 

“Let him see how wet I make you? How my pretty girl screams for me? Begging for my cock?” He rasped as his eyes bore into yours, your faces were so close at this point your sure you both were just breathing in eachothers breaths.

Your tight walls clenched even harder on his throbbing cock causing him to falter slightly, his hips needing a split second to get back into rhythm. 

“Fuck!” He roared in that unique tone of his, “Look at you getting wet like a whore” he spat at you, though there was no malice.

“Getting fucking wet when I talk about fucking you in front of him, is that what you want? Want him and the whole known universe to know that you belong to me? That you belong to na-Baron Feyd Rutha Harkonnen? Know how well you take my cock?” He gritted, the look of pure possessiveness in his blue eyes as his nostrils flared, his full bottom lip being pulled between his teeth.

You couldn’t help the tears that sprung, and your nails that dug into his back no doubt breaking skin, you heard the hiss pass through his lips at the pleasure of it but he was just fucking you so good, splitting you wide open on his cock and saying the most nastiness things a lady of a great house should never hear. He was speaking to you a way no one would ever dare and it was driving crazy you like he knows it always does. 

“Y-yes! Wan’ them all to know!” You moaned as your shaky breath washed over his full lips. You closed the small space and took his mouth upon yours, his opening immediately to take dominance over your tongue. The kiss was just as messy and sloppy as the fucking currently happening in a hallway anyone could walk down. Yet you couldn’t care less because of the pure ecstasy he was making you feel and because you knew Feyd would kill anyone stupid enough to walk this way, let along gaze upon you in this state. 

The rest of the world may have not knew but those here did and they knew better than to ever speak on it. 

Here they all know you belong to Feyd and that made your heart soar because you’d give anything for all to know. 

“Fuck pretty girl” he groaned against your wet mouth, “You’re dripping down my balls, my fucking thighs are wet with you”.

His words just made you moan louder.

“Go head, cum for me, let go my pretty little pet” he rasped.

The scream that tore through you should make you embarrassed how much you sounded like a common whore but nothing in you could muster a care in the world. Feyd was worth everything. Worth getting caught, worth the embarrassment on your family, worth whatever came with being found out. 

Your body shook as the force of your orgasm pushed Feyd’s cock out, momentarily catching him off guard before the loss of your heat and your desperate whine at the action caused him to snap back in action and drive his cock back in til he was brushing your cervix. 

Your body continued to shake as your pussy claimed his cock in a vice grip and your eyes rolled back, your mouth hanging open with some slight drool down the corner. Everything about the moment sent a chill down Feyd’s  spine as his balls drew tight and his cock swelled, the release of his cum shooting into your warmth and drenching your walls with his thick seed. 

How Feyd wished more then anything you both could allowed it to take, the thought of you claimed in that way, round with his child caused Feyd release to prolong. A groan ripping through his chest, as his cock continued to spurt his cum into your warm haven. Desperate to see you round, full of him. 

“Fuck!” 

Your hands guided his head as you brought him in for an embrace. Your faces pressed together.

The both of you stayed that way for awhile. Deep breathing slowly coming to a normal pace as the mixture from both your releases cooled on each of your thighs. 

He slowly pulled out his soften cock as you verbally mourned the loss. 

Feyd helped you fix yourself before slipping his cock back into his pants and pulling them back over his hips. He hadn’t pull them down far to begin with with the rush you both were in. Just enough to get his impressive cock out. 

“Did you mean it?” He asked catching you off guard with the softness and vulnerability of his deep raspy tone. 

You searched his handsome face looking for an answer before it hit you. You fought back the tears that threaten to fall. The sadness that washed over you you wished wasn’t the reality.

“Of course, more than anything but we both know it would never happen Feyd. I am already betrothed” you remind him. “My father will not reconsider, not while house Fenring has offered so much and he still carry’s hatred for the Baron”.

Feyd didn’t seem surprised at your statement, it was the truth you both knew. He just seemed to be contemplating and that worried you. You didn’t want him to do anything that would get himself into trouble.

x

It was two long days later when you got to see Feyd again, this time in the arena. You don’t understand how it all happened because it had happened so quickly. 

You were sitting up in the guest seats watching with a few the other young lady’s of great houses, gossiping about Feyds skill and brutality with the rest of your respective families when Feyd had just finished his slaughter. He stood there proud after taking off his shield and finishing in an even more entertaining way when all realized some of the slaves weren’t drugged. 

He raised a single fist as the roar from the area slowly came to a stop. A servant rushed to him handing over something. You sat watching with all wondering what was happening since this wasn’t customary for the end of the fight. 

“What is the na-Baron up to?” One of the lords from the other houses asked as everyone watched. 

Your heart raced as you watched through your glasses as he brought a mic up to his mouth. He smirked before announcing his challenge to the young lord of house Fenring for your hand in marriage.

You could swear he looked directly up at you high in the sky above him smirking before he cut his palm, made a fist and pounded his chest in a salute of ultimate respect. The stunned crowed of Giedi Prime following their beloved na-Baron. The sound was deafening. Your breathing stopped as you heard all the gasps around you. The young lady’s grasping at you asking a million questions as your father and Lord Fenring jumped to their feet yelling their rage at the disrespect of the young na-Baron. For they understood things were different here and just like the na-Baron was currently explaining on Giedi Prime his challenge must be accepted by the young lord himself and he would not be able to choose a fighter instead where the laws of marriage was considered. It was fight to the death or be shamed and seen as weak. Which on Giedi Prime was seen as the worst fate. To refuse meant House Harkkonen would refuse to acknowledge House Fenring because of their weakness. All deals and trade voided. 

You couldn’t slow your breathing as you leaned on the railing watching him watching you. You could hear the commotion around you and the young lord Fenring fighting with his father over his acceptance before making his way out the room. Hope bloomed in your chest, you knew your father could not refuse a display like this. Such an open declaration of love, of ownership. You were his and he would fight to the death to make it so in all ways.

It wasn’t long before you seen doors on the stadium floor beginning to open. And Feyd’s smirk turned into a monstrous smile full of blackened teeth. You were his and it was time all knew. Giedi Prime would finally have their na-Baroness. 

x

x

[moonlightspencie]

Help Me Hold on to You

Description: Ted and the reader struggle with balancing mental health and everyday life. (Based on The Archer by Taylor Swift)

Pairing: Ted Lasso x fem!Reader

Warnings: depictions of anxiety and panic

Word Count: 8.9k

A/N: one of my all time favs that i’ve written (and, not to sound conceited, one of my favs in general bc it was super self-indulgent hehe). originally posted on tumblr. then dropped onto ao3. now it’s back on tumblr.

“Hey, Y/N. Whatcha up to?” Ted burst into your shared office, a wide-eyed look on his face.

You shook your head with a smirk, “Just going over the last game, trying to figure out what we can do better next time.”

You paused the video on your laptop, shutting it and looking up to him expectantly. He pulled a chair up next to you, suddenly looking a little nervous.

“I know that look, Ted. What’s wrong?”

He shook his head, plastering on a smile. “Nothing.”

“You wouldn’t have come interrupting me unless you had something you wanted to talk about.”

His face dropped, nodding slowly. “I’m getting kind of sick of you reading me like a book, sweetheart.”

“No, you’re not.”

He chuckled, looking back at you. “Okay, guilty. Uh, I’m not sure how to address this, so I guess I better just come out and say it, huh?”

You nodded back at him, silent, but with a reassuring smile.

He clapped once. “So, uh, nobody really knows about this, but I’ve been dealing with some anxiety lately. I, uh— I don’t really want anyone knowing about it, so if you could…”

“I’ll be quiet as a mouse in a trap.”

He raised a brow. “Morbid.”

“My colloquialisms can’t be as silly and polished as yours, friend.”

He smiled. “Guess not. Don’t really have room in my head for ‘em right now, though.”

You shrugged. “That’s okay. I like you whether or not you’re acting like a landscaper’s favorite machine.”

He paused for a moment, trying to put the pieces together. Then, his face lit up.

“Chipper?”

You simply pointed at him with a wink.

“Nice,” he said with a smile. He looked back down to his hands, smile melting. “So, um, I guess I just wanted you to know. That was the reason I had to leave the game, actually. It wasn’t food poisoning, but it just seems easier to let people believe that, you know? But, anyway. You seem to be good with these kinds of things, and I just… I don’t know.”

“Sometimes it’s nice just to tell someone, yeah?”

He nodded with a small grin. “Rebecca’s seen it happen once, but I think that’s about it. I made an appointment to speak with the doc, but I just couldn’t.”

“Why not?”

He shrugged, head shaking. “It’s bull.”

“Ted, you remember what you told me when I talked to you about my issues with trust?”

He raised a brow. “I told you nobody good would hurt you like…”

“You told me that all people are different people. You’ve said it a few times around me, I know you’ve told other people the same. And you know what?”

“What?” His brows sat raised.

“You need to start taking your own advice.”

“I don’t like when you do that.”

“Do what?” You laughed.

He chuckled with you. “When you’re right. I’m not supposed to be a quitter, either.”

“Not for the good things, anyway, huh?”

He nodded. “Thank you.”

He started standing, but you stood with him before he could go anywhere.

“Hey, there’s something I want you to know, too.”

“Shoot,” he said, gesturing for you to continue.

“I deal with anxiety, too. A lot, actually.”

He furrowed his brow. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Didn’t want you to worry.”

“Well, now I am.”

“Don’t. I can cope, I just— I want you to know you’re not alone in this, okay? I get panic attacks, anxiety attacks, I deal with more minor symptoms pretty much every day. And you know what? It doesn’t make me any less of a person. Doesn’t make you, either.”

You saw the tears that began to prick his eyes, but decided to leave that situation alone. Instead, you pulled him in for a hug. He hugged back hard, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You heard him take a few shaky breaths before he pulled back, wiping at his eyes.

“I’m sorry…”

“Don’t ever apologize for vulnerability. Least not to me, cause I know exactly how you’re feeling and it’s okay. I promise,” you reached for his hand, giving it a squeeze.

He smiled at you, trying to hold back from letting any more tears fall.

“Thank you.”

“It’s nothing, Ted. I do want you to try going back to doctor Sharon, though. She’s a good woman.”

He nodded, glancing at where your hand still held his own. He squeezed it again, then left you to get back to your work. You sat for a while, unable to focus on anything but what he’d told you. You hoped like hell he had really listened to you.

It wasn’t until the next day that you’d found he’d both listened to and simultaneously completely ignored you. You were walking down the hall from the office when you saw him.

“Hey,” you called out to him, both hands on his chest to stop him from moving when you got close enough. “Your appointment is supposed to be right now. What happened to—”

“I can’t do it.”

He grabbed one of your wrists, trying to move you. You refused to budge.

“No. Uh-uh. Why did you leave?”

“I’m not talking to someone who’s only there cause she’s paid.”

You raised a brow. “Excuse me, Lasso. Are you not getting paid to do your job?”

He huffed out a sigh.

“Don’t you get attitude with me,” you dropped your hands, but didn’t move from where you stood. “I gotta go, but you’re trying again tomorrow, you hear me?”

“Y/N—”

“You’re going. Non-negotiable.”

He dropped his shoulders. “Fine. I’ll try.”

You nodded once, a smile of victory on your face. “And by the way, I think Keeley’s smoking in the boot room. Might wanna see what that’s about, yeah?”

He tilted his head, a chuckle leaving him. You patted him on the shoulder as you passed to leave the building.

Your day from then on was a long one. You were running around with Beard for part of it, trying to work on strategy for the upcoming game against Man City. The whole Richmond team was on edge, and you were beginning to worry that the nervousness alone might end up being the end-all to the game. You were a firm believer that winning had as much to do with the power of the mind as the power of the body. If they were going in thinking they were going to lose— lose they would.

“That’s a little dramatic,” Beard said over his beer.

You rolled your eyes, sipping at your drink.

“It’s not. Same line of thinking as Ted’s ‘Believe’ sign. I’m just being a little more explicit about what I mean when I say it.”

He chuckled. “You two are more alike than I think you even realize, you know?”

“I think I realize.”

“Do you?”

You shrugged, nodding slightly.

“Both crazy about this team, and even more crazy about you,” you teased, flicking at the brim of his hat.

He hid a smile behind his glass. “Your never-ending optimism and knack for flattery is also pretty similar.”

You hummed in agreement. “Can’t argue with ya, there.”

“So, what do you think we should do, then?”

You shrugged. “Find some way to cheer up the team. Get them excited for the game rather than scared of losing.”

He nodded, brows raised. “Any way of implementing that?”

“I’ll figure it out, I’m sure.” You leaned back. “Remember that game against Kansas State? Our boys were so freaked about it all, then Ted did his thing and got them so excited to play…”

“Beat their asses.”

“Yeah, we did.”

You both went in for a quick high five before continuing.

“Remember how he did it?”

“Told ‘em they needed to loosen up. We had a dance party and ordered pizza.”

You smiled. “Yep. What do you say we make something like that happen again? Day before we travel, let’s do it.”

He smirked, a brow raised. “Sounds perfect. You gonna tell Ted?”

You shrugged. “I think he could use the surprise just as much as the players.”

He narrowed his eyes at you.

You put your hands up. “What’s that look about?”

He just shook his head silently.

“I’m not treating him any different.”

He raised a brow, sipping at his drink again.

“Ted’s been going through it lately, I just think he needs a little cheer up. Nothing else.”

He set down his drink, then sat up straight, eyes still trained on you.

“Quit lecturing me, Beard,” you chuckled. “I know you always think I have some thing for him, but why can’t it just be that I care about people, huh?”

“I see through it.”

You paused for a moment. “I hate that.”

He smirked, and you both finished eating.

You went home yourself, denying a walk-back from Beard. You appreciated the gesture, but the air was beginning to feel thick and suffocating. The last thing you wanted was for him to see you like that.

As much as you tried pretending like the state of the team wasn’t affecting you, you knew that trying to be the fixer for this situation was weighing on you. More than you thought it would.

You tried swallowing, feeling your throat pretending to swell just to spite you. You rushed even faster towards your flat, feeling that the oncoming attack wasn’t going to be so routine.

As soon as you were in your door, your knees hit the floor, head between your arms on the carpet. You tried to control your breathing, but it was no use. Tears fell, though you’d hardly noticed as you’d refused to open your eyes. The bleariness you were bound to find if you opened them would only make the situation worse. You began to worry about passing out if you couldn’t control your breathing, and decided to roll yourself onto your side, whole body pushing through tremors you hadn’t felt in a few months, at least.

The ringing of your phone didn’t aid your situation. You desperately hoped it wasn’t an emergency, because there was no way you’d be able to make it over to where you’d dropped your purse. But, it kept ringing. Four separate calls over the span of probably half an hour.

It was another good half an hour after the calls had stopped before you were composed enough to open your eyes, and pull yourself into a sitting position on the ground. Though, you wouldn’t have known. Time never seemed to make any sense in those situations.

You worked on breathing in and out slowly, wiping away at any remaining tears. The shaking hadn’t yet ceased, but at least that was manageable. Right as you started trying to stand, you heard the loud buzzing of someone asking to be let in. You made it over, asking who was there.

“It’s me. Are you okay?” Ted’s voice came through.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Hang on,” you said, letting him in.

It wasn’t long before a knock was at the door, and you wished he wasn’t so quick. No amount of post-panic-primping in a fifteen-second slot could make you look presentable enough to get past him. You opened the door, putting on a smile and hoping he would be too preoccupied with something else to look directly at you for too long.

His face dropped the second he saw you, of course.

“What’s wrong?”

You shook your head. “I’m okay.”

He walked in, leaving you to close the door and follow him.

“No way, McConaughey. You can’t hide tears from me, I got eagle eyes for that sort of thing.”

You crossed your arms. “I’ve just had a long night.”

He watched you for a moment, picking up on the fact that you wouldn’t be sharing any time soon. He nodded slowly.

“Okay, that’s fine. If you don’t want to talk right now, that’s okay,” he smiled softly, then wrapped you in a tight hug.

You welcomed it, arms wrapping around his middle, head buried in his chest.

“You were honest with me,” you started after a moment, “so, I guess I should be with you. I just came down from a pretty bad panic attack. I couldn’t breathe, hardly made it home… I just—”

“It’s okay,” he said, rubbing your back as he spoke. “We don’t have to talk about details. Thank you for telling me.”

You nodded. “Thank you for coming.”

“You always answer when I call. I knew something had to be up.”

“What if I was just in the shower?”

“You still always call me back right away. I had over an hour of radio silence from you.”

You chuckled. “I didn’t know you had it down to such a science.”

He laughed back, pulling away from you just enough to see your face.

“There she is,” he said, a smile on his face.

“And she is a mess.”

“We all get a little messy sometimes, though, don’t we?”

You nodded. “Gotta agree with that.”

He looked at you for a moment or two with a soft smile on his face, and as much as you didn’t want to admit it, especially since Beard was also on your ass about it, that was the moment you knew. You felt your heart rate pick up, and didn’t know what to do but escape. You stepped back, leaving him looking a little confused.

“I think I need some sleep, Ted.”

His eyes were wide, looking at you. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I’ll be fine. I just need time alone, now. I need rest.”

“Okay, yeah,” he nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Uh, alright, well I will see you tomorrow bright and early, right?”

You nodded, giving him a quick smile.

“Anything else I can do for you?”

You shook your head. “No. I’m okay.”

He nodded again, watching you with those big, worried eyes. You wished he would stop with that. He waved a quick goodbye, leaving you alone.

You settled into bed, though you were unable to sleep. You couldn’t stop thinking about the team. Or Ted. Or the fact that you couldn’t help but self-sabotage any chance you got. You wiped away a few stray tears, and closed your eyes, hoping sleep would take over soon.

You woke up from a couple hours of sleep to a text. Of course, from Ted.

- Excited to see you today for coaches meeting :) I’m proud of you

You sighed, setting your phone down next to you. The guy didn’t seem to have a single mean bone in his body, and here you were wallowing in the fact that you couldn’t help but feel like you brought down everyone around you. As much as you tried to remain positive in every situation, you knew your mood affected the people around you whenever you were a little down in the dumps. You got up, hoping you could at least try to disguise it as well as possible for the day. At least for the morning.

You stopped to get coffee on the way in, delivering each drink with a smile. You sat next to Ted to watch the tapes, giving him the most convincing smile you could.

“You seem better today,” he said quietly, a smile on his face.

You nodded. “Yeah.”

The next few days you were preoccupied with setting up the party for the team, and luckily it kept you busy enough to not fall back into the hole you’d had to crawl out of. If there was one thing you were proud of, it was your ability to pull yourself out of the hardest places. Maybe it wasn’t always through the best methods, but you figured that doing what you needed to was working just fine. If it ain’t broke, after all.

“Howdy, howdy!” Ted chimed, walking in.

You shut your laptop quickly, still taking pride in the fact that you were successfully keeping the event from him.

He quirked a brow, nodding towards your laptop. “What’s that about?”

“Nothing you need to worry about right now. What’s up?”

He rubbed his hands together, leaning against your desk with a cheesy grin.

“Guess.”

“You got another jar of barbecue sauce?”

He laughed. “Yes, actually, but that’s not what this is all about, buttercup. It’s about you.”

You furrowed your brow. “What?”

“Well, kinda,” he said with a light chuckle. “I’ve been seeing the doc a lot more frequently, now.”

You lit up. “Oh, I’m so proud of you!”

“You’ll be even more proud in a second. Get this, she actually said that she’s glad me and you are friends.”

You crinkled your nose, laughing. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I told her about all of your help over the past few sessions, and she told me to tell you, little lady, that I am lucky to have you.”

He nudged your shoulder as he ended the sentence, and you hoped he wouldn’t notice how you tried hiding a smile.

You felt heat rise to your cheeks as he finished out by saying, “I gotta say, I agree with her.”

“In that case, you’re welcome.”

He smiled again, hopping up to sit on your desk. “So, what are you up to?”

“You’ll find out later. Later today, actually.”

He raised his brows. “Oh yeah?”

You nodded, “Mhm. I really think you’re gonna love it, too.”

He gasped, “Did you get me those funky shoes from Gucci I showed you the other day?”

“What?” You scrunched up your face. “No, of course not. Those things were horrible.”

He paused, as if to say something, before raising his brows and nodding in agreement.

“Okay, so what is it?”

“Wouldn’t be much of a surprise if I told you, would it?”

He dropped his shoulders. “Aw, come on. Telling me you have a surprise and not saying what it is… That’s worse than telling your dog you’re going on a walk then leaving him home.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“You’re right, that’s just evil. But you know I like to know things.”

You reached over, patting his knee. “I know, but I think you can survive til after practice.”

“Training,” he corrected.

“Ted, we’re both American. You don’t need to adjust your language with me.”

“See, that’s why I love talking to you,” he laughed, poking at your shoulder.

You shook your head, “Okay, now get out of here so I can finish up.”

“I’ll see you at practice, huh?” He raised an eyebrow, looking a little too pleased with himself for switching up his terminology.

You laughed. “See you there, coach.”

Beard walked in a while later, looking at you expectantly.

“Yes, I’m almost ready. Pizza will be here about ten minutes before we’re done, so I’ll excuse myself a little early, and I’ve got Keeley and Higgins doing some decorating in the locker room while we’re out.”

“You know my favorite thing about you?” He asked as he sat down in his seat.

“Fact that you don’t have to actually say anything to talk to me?”

He smirked, nodding. “Exactly.”

You both laughed, then sat back and waited for the boys to make it to the locker room. Ted came in, a big smile on his face as he did.

“Hey, there are two of my favorite people on this whole planet!”

“Still not telling you,” you said, giving a glance at Beard.

He only shook his head, going back to his book.

“Hey!” Ted exclaimed, pointing to Beard. “You know, too?”

“Know what?” Nate asked as he walked in.

You kept talking, “Keeley and Higgins, too. Oh, and Rebecca, actually, but she can’t be a part of it today.”

Ted glared at you as he went to his desk chair, Roy coming in behind him as he did.

“You talking about what Keeley told me she can’t tell me about?”

“Yep,” you responded, leaning back in your seat.

He grunted in response, arms crossing over his chest. You all worked on the game plan for ‘training’, then headed out with the team to get started on the last home practice before the big game. You knew nerves were high the whole time, and were all the more focused on making sure your little pizza party was a relief for everyone. You excused yourself to bring in the pizzas with your two accomplices, and then waited outside the door until the team came barging in. You heard shouts of approval from them all as they saw the decor and food, smiling as the work you’d done was starting to prove to be a good idea. Beard and Ted wandered in a moment after the last boy was in the locker room, a smile on Ted’s face as he heard them all.

“This the surprise?” He asked as he approached you.

You smiled, nodding. Beard moved past you to enter.

“Remember Kansas State?”

He raised his brows, smile only growing. “You didn’t.”

You nodded once more. “I did.”

He scooped you up in a hug, spinning you around.

“You are the best,” he said, setting you back down with a kiss to your cheek. Luckily, the smile on your face could easily be chalked up to the surprise paying off rather than the show of intimacy from your friend. “Well, come on, let’s shake a leg so I can shake some booty.”

You laughed at that, following behind him into the chaos.

“Hey!” He called out to everyone. “Y’all say thank you to Y/N for all this.”

A chorus of ‘thank you’s erupted, and you laughed as Ted pulled you into his side.

“Couldn’t have done it without Keeley and Higgins, y’all. They did all the decorating, I just recycled an old idea of coach, here.”

The team chuckled, then went back to celebrating as the music started.

He looked to you, eyes narrowed. “You’re being way too modest. This happened cause you put your heart and soul into this team.”

“I learned from the best, Lasso.”

He looked at you quietly, a small smile on his face, then shook his head. He pulled you into the small crowd, and you all spent the next couple hours letting loose before you had to check in with reality again.

The party seemed to have helped. Morale was up as you prepared for the game, and at minimum you knew that even if you still lost, they likely wouldn’t take it quite as hard. That helped your conscience, if anything.

One more thing that took a weight off of your shoulders was what happened before the game even started. Ted told the other coaches about his struggles with anxiety before the game. He came clean about it all, and you knew he felt good about finally letting it go to them. As the others started walking out, you held him back, making sure he knew just how proud of him you were.

“I wish I had your confidence.”

He patted your back. “But, you also love your privacy. That’s okay, you know? You also do a much better job holding it down than I do when it comes to this type of thing.”

You swallowed. “I’m not so sure about that. I know how to cope the best way I can, but I think it’s much more brave that you decided to open up to them about this.”

“Hey, don’t be hard on yourself about this,” he said, a hand on your shoulder. “Besides, I’m only doing okay right now cause I’m seeing the doc so often.”

“You saying I need to see someone about this?”

He shook his head. “No. You helped me realize that, for me, going to see her was what I needed. I hope in some way I can help you realize that you should do whatever is best for you. We’re all different people with different experiences, right?”

“Right. Thanks, Ted.”

You sighed. Leaning into his side for a moment, then broke away, clapping once.

“Okay, now let’s go win this.”

The game was lost, but everyone moved past it. You knew most of that was because of Ted and his affection for the goldfish attitude, though he tried like anything to convince you they wouldn’t be feeling so okay if it wasn’t for the little morale boost you’d given everyone before it all started.

He’d also inadvertently managed to convince you to see Dr. Fieldstone.

You knocked on her door, and she looked up from her seat to see you staring at her with a smile from the doorway.

“Come on in, coach,” she said, gesturing at the chair in front of her.

You nodded, looking around the room as you sat. You noted the little bird next to you, tapping it just enough to get it going.

“I like your decorations,” you said with a smile, then looked back at her. “Also, please call me Y/N. I hardly let the boys get away with calling me coach outside of games.”

She smiled. “I see.”

“So, uh, it’s good to finally talk with you. I know we’ve seen one another in passing a few times, but I’ve been exceptionally busy lately or else I would have come and given a proper hello. I really appreciate all of the work you’ve been doing with the team. You seem like a very kind, compassionate woman. I’m happy to have you here, honestly.”

She just watched as you talked, a light grin on her face as you did, though most of the humor rested in her eyes.

You paused for just a moment, though when she didn’t speak up, you took it as an invitation to keep going.

“Uh, so, I’m not really sure how this goes. I’ve only been to see a therapist once before and it didn’t go great. Though, I promise I won’t hold it against you. I’ve just learned how to cope on my own after that experience, but Ted kind of convinced me to try to find what would work best for me moving forward, and I thought—”

“I see why you two are so close,” she chuckled. “I feel as though I know you already.”

Your brows raised. “Really? How so?”

“Well, between how talkative you’ve become now that you’re nervous, and the fact that I’ve heard quite a lot about you in general, I’d say I have an idea of who you are.”

You let out a quick laugh. “Gosh, I’m sorry. I get kind of chatterbox-y when I talk to someone new.”

“Or when you get nervous, yeah?”

You nodded slowly, looking down for a moment. “Yeah. That, too. Guess it kinda goes hand-in-hand with some of my anxiety business, huh?”

She shrugged, though gave you a look that implied she’d agreed with your statement. You smirked, as did she.

“You said you’ve seen a therapist once before?”

You nodded. “Yes, but it didn’t seem to help. They hardly listened to me, and then told me that maybe exercising and breathing exercises would help. Gave me that advice four sessions in a row without really ever caring to know why I was dealing with panic and anxiety and everything else.”

She raised a brow. “I’m sorry you had to experience that. Now, I know you might not be able to trust me—”

“Oh, no. I totally trust you, Doc. I’ve seen how great you’ve been with the team, and I learned from a good friend a long time ago that everyone has a different story. You don’t deserve to be compared like that.”

Her brows really shot up with that being said. She nodded slowly, writing something down as she did.

“Well, thank you for that. That was kind of you to say.”

You smiled at her. “I appreciate you. Really.”

“This need to reassure the people around you, do you think that might have anything to do with what you’re struggling with?”

Your eyes widened, almost shocked at the statement. You understood now how she’d made so much progress with Ted. You continued talking about what you needed to, but the session was coming to a close quickly.

“Uh, one more thing, doc?”

“Yes, Y/N?”

“Thanks for what you said about me to Ted.”

She quirked a brow. “And what was that?”

“You told him I was good for him.”

“You are,” she said, nodding. “I think the both of you need to be reminded that you don’t always have to turn on the personality for someone to love you. I think you do that well. Both of you.”

You chuckled. “You… Are one wise woman, Dr. Sharon.”

She laughed. “I am pretty great at my job.”

“Well, thank you again,” you said, starting to walk towards the door.

“Y/N,” she called out, and you turned. “Try to remember that the whole world isn’t on your shoulders, yeah? You believe everyone deserves to know love and comfort, but you are one of those people, too.”

You nodded, taking in a deep breath, then said your goodbyes. You pulled out your phone as you left her office. Being the last appointment for the day, you knew most people had already gone home, but you felt like getting some food. You dialed Ted’s number and waited expectantly, heading towards the door.

He answered, but didn’t speak.

You furrowed your brow, exiting the building.

“Ted?” You asked, waiting for a reply.

His voice came through, shaky and nervous-sounding. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Whoa, hold on, what’s up with you?”

“I— I’m kind of…” he trailed off, taking in a hard breath.

“Are you at home?”

You started walking more quickly, heading towards his flat.

“Yeah.”

“I’m coming to you, okay?”

You heard a sniffle on the other end, and a weak ‘okay’ in response. You hung up, and practically ran the rest of the way there. He buzzed you in, and you were up the stairs, bursting into his apartment in no time. He was sitting on his couch in his undershirt and khakis, clearly having been in the middle of undressing when he got hit with whatever ailed him.

You rushed over to the couch, standing next to him. He looked up at you, still crying.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You asked softly, reaching over to touch his arm.

He shook his head. “Not yet.”

“Can I hug you?”

He nodded quickly, standing up and clinging to you like a child. You held him, hands rubbing up and down his back as he cried, head shaking every so often, disagreeing with the thoughts in his own head.

“I can’t even…” he trailed, mumbling against your shoulder.

“What is it, hun?” You asked, still trying to calm him as much as possible.

“Am I a shitty dad? I don’t—”

“No, no. Of course you aren’t.”

“I can’t even pick up my son from a sleepover. He had a nightmare and wanted to go home and I couldn’t be there for him,” he turned his head, cheek against your shoulder now.

You reached up to run your nails through his hair. “You’re like the best dad I could think of. Even thousands of miles apart, you spend more time talking to your kid than I ever got with my dad in the same house. He knows you love him.”

“I quit on his mom. I’m not supposed to be a quitter.”

“You didn’t quit. You didn’t forfeit. Game time was up, the match was over. Nothing you could do at that point, Ted.”

He sniffled, then nodded. “You really think so?”

“You were both fighting so long for something that only hurt the both of you. It was coming to an end naturally. You just finally had the strength to let it end, even though it was hard.”

He nodded again, and fell silent for a few minutes, still holding on to you for dear life.

“Ted?” You asked.

He hummed in question.

“Can I get you some water? I don’t want you to get dehydrated.”

“Yeah,” he said, then let you go, sitting back on the couch.

You filled up a glass from the tap, handing it to him and kneeling in front of him. He drank some, then handed the glass back to you to set down on the coffee table.

“Good, thank you for drinking some,” you smiled.

He laughed humorlessly. “I’m a child.”

“You just need to be cared for a little bit right now. I know stuff like this is all new to you still, I don’t think being comforted and coddled a little is gonna hurt all that much.”

He smirked. “I guess not. Thank you. For coming here.”

You stood, going to sit next to him.

“It’s nothing. You’d do the same for me. Heck, you kind of have already, you just didn’t have to witness the crying part.”

He chuckled. “That’s… Embarrassing. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not embarrassing at all,” you said, then leaned back into the cushions. “You feel like food?”

“I don’t know if going out right now—”

“I was going to order in. Thought we could watch tv or a movie or something and hang out for a while.”

He looked to you with a soft smile, nodding.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

The next day, you woke up feeling better than you had in a while. You felt well rested, and even went to pick up coffee for everyone despite it not being a film-watching day. You made your way to the office, though you found it much more somber than you were expecting.

“Whoa,” you started as everyone watched you walk in with the tray of drinks. “Who died?”

Apparently that was a poorly timed question.

You showed up at the funeral, heading right to Rebecca for a hug.

“Hi, love,” you said, squeezing her a little tighter than normal. “You okay?”

She nodded. “I’m alright.”

You pulled back, giving her a smile. “For what it’s worth, you look hot.”

She laughed, “Charming as always, my friend.”

“It’s what I do best.”

You heard the squeal of Keeley before you saw her.

“You look gorgeous!” She said as she hugged you.

“Babe, it’s a funeral.”

“Still look hot,” she said with a grin before moving on to Rebecca.

You gave a quick hello to Roy.

“She’s… Weird about funerals.”

You nodded. “Right. Well, I’ll be back. Ted was supposed to be here before me and isn’t picking up his phone now.”

Roy furrowed his brow. “Really? I’m shocked you didn’t come together.”

You tilted your head. “Why would we?”

“You realize how fuckin’ obvious you are?”

Your face dropped. “Nothing’s happening, Roy.”

He grunted with a shake of his head, and you headed off away from people to try giving Ted another call.

Still no answer.

When it hit his answering machine, you decided to leave it and send a text instead.

- hey, are you okay? i’m at the funeral now. if you show up, i’ll be in the back row waiting for you. if not, i’m coming to you as soon as we’re out of here

You shoved your phone back into your purse, making sure to leave it on vibrate in case he called back. Getting through the day was already hard, and you knew your anxiety was likely going to be more of a when-than-if kind of situation. It only built with the fact that Ted wasn’t getting back to you. You felt like everything was dragging on forever, and it wasn’t until Rebecca was struggling to find the right words in her eulogy that he came in. He sat next to you, squeezing your knee lightly to reassure you as he did, and you gave him a soft smile. Something was off, but even then he had the ability to comfort Rebecca all the way from the back row, continuing to sing the song she’d begun. And, of course, everyone else couldn’t help but join in.

You walked with him to the repast, and took that as an opportunity to ask him about what was going on.

“Ted?”

“Yeah?”

You fell quiet for a moment, unsure of where to start. He started for you.

“If you’re wondering, it was anxiety again. I’m sorry I didn’t respond…”

“Did you at least reach out to Dr. Sharon?”

“Yes.”

You smiled at him. “Okay, I’m glad. Proud of you.”

He smirked, then looked around the neighborhood for a moment.

“Uh, we talked about my dad.”

Your eyes widened. He’d hardly ever talked to you about what happened because he could never get through without crying.

“Wow. Are you okay? I know that’s always really hard for you…”

“She helped me see the good in him again, you know? I was always so angry with him for leaving us, but he did more than leave us. He was…” He trailed off with a shaky breath. You reached over, taking his hand, and he held onto yours firmly. “He was a great dad. She helped me remember that.”

“I’m happy you could talk to her about it, Ted. Seriously.”

He nodded, one hand going up to wipe at his eyes. “I guess it just hit me thinking about today…”

“I know. I’ve been pretty on edge today, too.”

“Are you okay?” He rushed out, looking at you.

You nodded with a smile, “Much better now that I know you are.”

He squeezed your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. You tried to stave off the sick feeling in your stomach telling you to run the other way. You wished you could just enjoy a nice moment with him, but you couldn’t help but feel guilty somehow. He was too good for most people, and you considered yourself one of the ones he was too good for. You let it happen for a few seconds longer before you pulled away, pretending like you needed to check your phone in your purse.

“Get a message?” He asked after a moment.

“Uh, I thought I felt it vibrate. Guess not,” you chuckled a little.

He nodded quietly, shoving hands back in his coat pockets. You walked silently side by side until you reached the house, walking inside and beginning to mingle with some of the other guests there. You felt anxiety building, but tried putting it off. You couldn’t tell why it was getting worse and worse, but it was. Your pulse kept speeding no matter how easy you tried taking it.

But, you knew it was about to get way worse when you were suddenly being pulled away from Ted by Beard as a woman approached him. He watched after you with eyes wide for a moment before he turned to her, and you furrowed your brow at Beard when he deposited you in a different room.

“The hell was that about?” You snapped.

Immediately, you knew you needed to get away. It was hard enough feeling anxious, but the last thing you wanted was for your feelings to manifest as anger. But, manifest they did.

“You said you didn’t feel anything for him like that,” he said, testing you.

You scoffed. “Now is not the time, Beard. Who was that, anyways?”

“Remember the name, ‘Sassy’?”

Your stomach dropped, and you could swear the air had just gotten thinner.

“Seriously?”

He shrugged, a little smug. You let out a hard breath, beginning to walk away.

“You said—”

You whipped around. “Cut the shit, Beard. It’s none of your business.”

Eyes fell on you, and the barely contained attack was coming into swing. You started walking towards the back door and into the fresh air, hoping you could contain it all until you could get out of there and go home.

The door opened only a moment later, and you turned to find Beard staring at you.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped like that, I just—”

“You have feelings for him. I know you do.” He shrugged, coming to stand next to you. “What I don’t know is what’s wrong besides that.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re shaking.”

You looked down to see your hands shaking hard as you grasped your arms.

“I—,” you felt tears prick your eyes, and looked away. “I can’t fucking tell him. I’ve known him for years, do you have any clue how shitty it’d be to drop something like that on him? Besides, clearly he’s having fun with…”

You stopped, unable to even say another person’s name.

“The doc told me I self-sabotage, but I don’t think this is that. Is it wrong to want him to be happy? I don’t think I’m the bad guy for that.”

“Nobody said you were.”

“Nobody needs to. I’m a fucking mess. I have no right being upset that he’s happy. I’m a piece of shit,” you whispered at the end, closing your eyes. “I— I need to get out of here. I gotta go, I’m sorry.”

You felt your chest heave, trying to get in air through the invisible smoke that surrounded your head. There was no escaping it, now.

Beard reached out for you, but you already started leaving. He called your name, but you couldn’t handle facing him.

“If anyone asks, please just say I got sick,” you said, back still turned to him.

He sighed, watching as you walked away, holding onto yourself as if you might crumble otherwise. He was worried you actually would, but knew you’d only get more pissed if he tried following you now.

You stumbled along the street, not really sure where you planned on ending up. The closest location was on Nelson Road, so that’s where you found yourself after it all, sinking onto the floor of the office and letting all hell break loose. It was bad enough with how you’d been feeling today, but coupling it all with how ridiculous you felt over being angry that someone else had his attention… That was the thing that nearly pushed you over the edge. Crying and shaking led to dry heaving, dry heaving led to darn near passing out, and that all led to sitting on the ground for who knows how long. You’d always been able to pull yourself out eventually, but you weren’t sure you’d be able to this time.

If people really believed that hope kills, you wished they never had to know what being completely hopeless felt like.

Pretending like you weren’t ever affected by the things that hurt you could only get you so far, and now you were feeling the hard edge of realization that being hit by the things that pained you all at once was so much worse than dealing with it little by little.

Now, a room full of people had seen you crack, too. They all saw through it. The jig was up in a small way that felt huge. Your cover-up act was all you had sometimes, and you couldn’t afford to lose it all because you couldn’t handle seeing Ted with another person, or deal with your emotions before they blew up in your face.

You sobbed, unsure of how you were still awake with how much air escaped you and how little you were taking in. You almost wished you would just pass out for a few hours. Just to escape for a moment.

You heard footsteps fall heavy and quickly down the ball, and it only worsened your panic. The last thing you wanted was for anyone to see you like this, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move. You were cemented to the ground, a crying, shaky mess.

“Oh, thank goodness,” you heard a voice that sounded far away, then felt a pair of arms scoop you up and hold you tightly against them. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

You couldn’t stop yourself this time, and just let yourself cry. Ted tried moving your hands away from your face, but you refused to budge.

“Sweetpea, I need to know you’re okay. Can you breathe with me?”

His voice was more clear now, and you heard a tone in it you almost never did.

“Please,” he whispered, and now you knew why he sounded different.

Tears fell against your bare legs, and they weren’t your own.

“Breathe with me, come on,” he coaxed, and you tried your hardest to obey his request.

Once your breathing calmed, you were able to move your hands, though you refused to look up. He pulled you into his lap from where he sat next to you, hands holding you tighter than they ever had before.

“You really scared me,” he said, quiet.

You took in another breath, face against his neck.

“I’m sorry, you shouldn’t be here.”

“What?” He asked, hands gripping you a little tighter. “What do you mean?”

You shook your head. “I’m a mess. You’re supposed to be out having fun.”

He was quiet for a moment before he spoke.

“Why did you…” He huffed out a breath. “I ran to your apartment. Then all your favorite restaurants. I went down all the streets I thought you might have taken, and finally I ended up here. I didn’t know where else to look.”

“Why were you looking?”

“I asked Beard where you were and he said you got sick. You were already not doing so hot, and I knew that was a lie”

“You have better things to be doing right now, Ted.”

“Nothing is more important than being here right now. Nothing. Do you understand me?”

He was taking a harsher tone with you than you were used to. You took a chance and looked up at him to find him in disarray. His tie and jacket were discarded, and his hair was kind of a mess.

“Don’t ever do that again. Please. At least tell someone where you’re going.”

You nodded, taking in the deep worry lines in his face.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“Don’t apologize for that, I just— I was scared.”

You swallowed. “I’m— I’ll be fine. Why don’t you go see your lady friend now.”

He furrowed his brow. “What?”

“I know Beard pulled us away from you two for a reason, Ted. You deserve to be happy. Please don’t let me get in the way of that.”

He raised his brows. “You’re not in the way of anything.”

“Yes, I am.”

“No. You’re not,” he shook his head. “Do you want to know something?”

You sniffed. “What?”

He stroked your cheek with his thumb, then smiled. “She’s kinda pissed at me anyway.”

“Why?”

He took a moment to lean back against the wall, readjusting you in his lap and wrapping his arms around you so that you wouldn’t be able to scoot away. He chewed at his lip for a moment, then looked at you. You stared back, eyes wide, and mascara running all down your face. He couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight.

Hard as you tried not to, you laughed with him.

“What?”

“Your makeup ran harder than anyone on the team.”

You tried wiping away at it, but he grabbed your hand.

“Quit that.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “It’s kinda cute.”

“Me having a panic attack is cute?”

His eyes nearly bugged out of his head, but stopped when you laughed.

“I’m kidding. Sorry, I couldn’t help it.”

He let out a breath. “Man, I haven’t been that scared since my mom looked in the shoebox under my bed when I was seventeen.”

You smiled, shaking your head. “You didn’t answer me.”

“What?”

“I asked why she was mad at you.”

He nodded slowly, chewing at his bottom lip.

“Uh, well, when I asked Beard where you were and he said you were sick, she was in the middle of trying to get me to go to her hotel room.”

You felt your stomach sink again, looking away in hopes he wouldn’t catch the shift in your demeanor.

He continued, “I told her I had something more important to do. She didn’t like that a whole lot.”

“You did?”

“Yep.”

You swallowed hard. “So, it is my fault.”

He huffed out a sigh. “Can you quit that? I turned down sex to come sit on the ground with you, and you know what? In any case I would always rather be here with you. Panic attack or not. You could literally just ask me to sit on the ground with you and I would always say yes.”

“Well, that’s just dumb.”

He pulled your head towards his chest, resting his chin on the top of your head.

“You always see right through me like I’m a dang department store window. Now, of all times, is when you decide to just… Not get it.”

You played with the buttons of his dress shirt and quirked a brow.

“What the heck are you talking about?”

“You know, I thought you might get it all the times I asked you to come get dinner or coffee with me. Or maybe every time I come bother you and stick around way longer than I normally would with anyone else— and that’s saying something. I was really hoping you’d get it when we were holding hands on our walk today, but of course not.”

He laughed, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head before he pulled back to look at you. You watched him with wide eyes, questioning his intentions and hoping you weren’t somehow still misreading this.

“You gonna make me say it?” He asked with a smile.

“I’d prefer if you did.”

He laughed, shaking his head. He then looked up at the ceiling, trying to search for the right words to say. They must have come to him, because he looked back to you, and simply stared for a minute before he finally started talking.

“You’re one of the kindest people I know. Like, Mr. Rogers reincarnated. You always know how to cheer me up. You always know how to help me, and everyone else in your life, somehow. I think you’re incredible. I think you are so funny and so talented and crazy smart. I even think you’re stupidly gorgeous when you’ve got makeup running all over your cheeks,” he said with a laugh, then continued when he got reassurance from your smiling face. “I’ve been scared to get close to anyone since… Since the divorce. You made it so easy, though. I’ve known you forever, but now— I guess I just realized a few months ago that nobody’s ever been there for me like you. You never tell me I’m too much. You never expect me to be… I don’t know. You don’t ever expect me to be on all the time. I can just be me, good or bad, and you still treat me the same.”

You watched him with a rapidly beating heart. Though, this time, it wasn’t telling you to run. It wanted nothing more than for you to stay right where you were.

“That’s something the Doc told me. That we’re good for each other because of that,” you said quietly.

He nodded. “I know, and she’s right. She helped me realize I had feelings for you. Real feelings.”

You bit your lip, then grinned. “Are you gonna crack a joke any time soon? Because all of this serious from you is becoming a little scary.”

His face lit up, and he laughed. You smiled with him, leaning into him for a hug. He held you close, taking in several deep breaths and enjoying the moment, then kissed your cheek as he pulled back again.

“Uh, so… Is this just gonna be me confessing and you get to sit there and tell me to do a crap ton of Hail Mary’s?”

You smiled. “There’s my Ted.”

His brows raised. “Your Ted, huh?”

You laughed, wiggling out of his grip. He let you, and you stood up, reaching for him. He stood with you, not letting go of your hands.

“You’re not going to let go of my hand to check a nonexistent message again, right?”

You smiled, looking down. “You caught that?”

“I can read you almost as well as you can read me. I knew something was up.”

You shook your head, walking into him and wrapping him in a hug again.

“I see things are a little better now,” Beard said, leaning against the doorframe of the office.

You let go of Ted, turning towards Beard.

“Hey. I’m sorry about—”

He held up a hand. “Don’t be. I was kind of being an ass anyways.”

You gave him a tight lipped smile, nodding a little.

“You two figure out… All that business?” He asked, pointing between the two of you.

Ted smiled, “Yeah, we did.”

“Good.”

He waved and left with that, the two of you alone once more.

Ted grabbed your hand, lacing his fingers with yours.

“Let’s go home and maybe… Clean up. We kind of look crazy,” he smiled.

“Can we head to mine first? I want to get out of this dress.”

“Why don’t we just go to mine?”

He raised his brows in question, and you couldn’t help but smile. Now at least you didn’t have to pretend you didn’t think he was adorable.

“I need clothes.”

He quirked a brow. “I think you’d look awfully cute in my clothes.”

You laughed, “Okay, fair enough.”

“Ready to go home, then, sweetpea?”

“Of course.”

[scarletttries]

Roman Roy (Succession) x Reader Headcanons Part Two

Pairing: Roman Roy (Succession) x Reader

Word count: 2.3k (warnings: mention of Logany child abuse)

Author’s Note: Roman Roy, when did you make such a permanent camp in my little heart? Thank you for all the messages and comments asking for part two of these headcanons! Part one of these headcanons are here, they were initially written as age gap headcanons but I think these could be enjoyed with any (adult) reader's age in mind at this point :) Also please continue to fill my inbox with Kendall and Roman requests because I am thinking about little else! 😊

- When your friends ask exactly what's going on between you and Roman it's not easy to answer. Deep down you know that there isn't anyone he feel closer to, Roman opting to spend as much of his time hassling you as possible, but he doesn't exactly articulate what he's feeling, leaving you to piece together the clues in his behaviour to work out just what you mean to him.

- Like the first time you ever saw him scared; you were both stood leaning against the back wall of the bullpen while Logan set up a makeshift stage to rally the troops and reassure them that despite the recent headlines 'he wasn't fucking going anywhere.' Roman had been his usual sarcastic joking self as the speech kicked off, happy for a reason to have you huddled next to him, unable to draw his gaze from your face, awestruck by your beauty even in the office's hard fluorescent lighting, and then Logan raised his voice. His shouts of 'killing the competition' and 'annihilating anyone in their way' immediately turned Roman from a charming, blasé professional to a scared little boy, stood frozen to attention lest he do something to piss off his father. You watch as his eyes all but clenched shut at the chorus of shouts, his jaw tensing to the point we were sure you could see his muscles trembling. Conscious of the crowd around you, you scooted one small step to the side, edging closer to Roman until with a gentle lean your right shoulder delicately met his left. You stilled as you gaged his reaction, not wanting to push a man who already had a habit of retreating away from any affection shone his way. But after a few seconds you watched his eyes blink open, his lips parting to let out a trembling sigh as he leaned his weight slightly into you, your brushing shoulders the anchor he needed in the storm of his father's tirade. Even after Logan's speech had ended and the crowd dispersed, he seemed reluctant to part himself from the warmth of the corner you shared, promising to come find you later 'just in case the Roy's hadn't wasted enough of your time today.'

- The supportive instincts you felt towards Roman as you grew close were not unreciprocated, the usually isolated man being surprised by his own protective streak as it emerged. It would come across in small ways at first, Roman keeping an eye out for who spoke to you at parties and inserting himself in the middle of conversations if he thought someone was getting a bit too friendly. He'd hold a door open to guide you through, putting his hand on your lower back as you moved past him only to feel his entire body jolt with electricity at the slightest bit of contact with your skin.

- One morning he'd be perched on the edge of your desk, where he found himself more and more these days, the hours he spent away from your company dragging until you were together again, like his life had been spent entirely in the shadows but suddenly he had the sun all to himself in you. As you let him fill you in about the latest drama from the top floor, the deafening shriek of the fire alarm blared down on you, making you flinch with its uncomfortable volume. Before you could move out of your seat, you felt the warm hands of Roman Roy settle either side of your face, protecting your ears as he tried to mouth 'It's just a test' over the echoing rings. As his hands rested against your cheeks they didn't tremble or twitch like he usually did around you, they were soft and safe, comforting you while blocking out the noise, Roman pleasantly surprised by how comfortable he felt touching you like this, your soft, rosy cheeks warm under his touch. It took him a few adoring seconds too long to realise the alarm had stopped and now you were just staring at him with a soft smile that had his stomach turning in a way he didn't quite recognise, but wouldn't mind feeling again.

- Reading between the lines is an essential skill when it comes to being close friends with Roman, his childhood of ridicule and discipline making him wary of opening himself up and asking for what he wants. You find him waiting for you in the Reception of Waystar one morning, practically launching himself out of his seat once you step through the large glass doors.

"Jesus don't you ever take a day off? Like, just fucking play hookie sometimes?" First thing in the morning you feel like you've joined a conversation that's been happening without you for an hour, trying to get catch up,

"Uhh, I guess I usually take the holidays off, and my birthday. Why? Should I be playing hookie on some random Thursday in April?" You watch his expression closely, recognising the familiar action of his mouth opening and closing as he tries to find the perfect nonchalant way to ask for something, his voice quiet when he speaks again as if he's already hurt his own feelings before you get the chance.

"Fuck you, this random Thursday happens to be my birthday." He feigns looking hurt that you didn't already have this marked in your diary, but you can see what Roman needs and just how badly he needs you to be the one to suggest it.

"Today's your birthday? Happy Birthday Roman! You should definitely take today off! And I should play hookie with you! Come on, let's get out of here." You dial the enthusiasm up to 100 and drag him from the building before he can attempt to make an unconvincing argument that that's not why he mentioned it, grateful that your gentle grip in his hand seems to have momentarily rendered him speechless.

- You spend the rest of the day sat in a local park in the sun, having takeout delivered for lunch, including the best cake your delivery app can make happen at such short notice, watching Roman protest as you tell him to make a wish and blow out the candle, the ever-cynical man telling you that his wish was for 'world peace', so it was guaranteed it wouldn't happen now that you knew.

- The next day when Roman trudged up to his COO office, still internally walking on air after the best birthday he could ever remember. There he found a haphazardly wrapped gift, the first he could ever remember receiving that didn't look like a department store display piece. Inside was a home-baked treat from you, and a planet earth jigsaw with a note that said that his wish of 'World Pieces' had come true. Roman kept that note in the top drawer of his desk whenever he needed to smile, hoping the wish he actually made would come true as well.

- When the nights of family functions grew particularly exhausting, and you had stopped being in Logan's focus enough to merit an invitation, sometimes Roman would find himself torn by indecision of whether or not to try and find you once he escaped the gala in question. Eventually after a few missed late night calls, and an embarrassed cold shoulder from him the next day, you showed him how to just add your phone's location to his 'in case of a work emergency', watching the warm smile flush across his cheeks at how comforted he felt in the knowledge that even when you weren't together, he'd know just how far apart you are.

- It wouldn't be long until one Friday night you'd be at a bar with your friends, probably still trying to collectively decipher what to call you and Roman, having never known anyone quite like him, and suddenly you'd see him slink through the door. He'd look so out of place and uncomfortable in a dive bar without you by his side, increasingly self conscious as each of your friends turn to face him, a knowing giggle spreading round the table as they witnessed the latest event in your bizarre relationship. Roman stood frozen in the doorway as he weighed up what to do, having never thought further than just needing to be wherever you are after a long night of being his father's whipping boy, desperate to be somewhere he felt safe and understood. Recognising the despondent look on his face from reacting to his father's raised voice, you said your goodbyes and collected your things, running over to Roman before he could dash out the door and pretend he hadn't come all this way just to see you.

"I was just about to head home, do you want to make sure I get home safe?" You offered, ignoring the elephant in the dimly lit room of why he was there, a visible wave of relief washing over Roman as he nodded and took your hand,

"Yeah, I'd like that. I have a car outside."

- Roman was clearly on the edge of saying something on the ride back to your place, his lips twitching nervously as if every word that tried to escape them would ruin everything you two had precariously built. It wasn't until he was safely in your home that you perched on the edge of your counter, bringing you to eye level with the fidgeting shape in front of you, that you tried to open the can of worms.

"Is everything okay Roman?" You spoke softly enough that Roman had to stop his pacing and settle into the spot in front of you to reply, letting his torso almost meet your legs where they dangled off the kitchen island.

"All good honey, just all fucking good." He ran his fingers through his slicked back hair as the words felt like acid rising in his throat, even the slightest pet name stirring up every nerve inside of him as he continued, "Speaking of good - we've got a good thing here right?" He gestured between the two of you as he spoke, his hand almost landing on your thigh but never quite braving the landing. His eyes darted up to your confused expression from where they rested, looking down at his shoes like if he didn't see the disgust and judgement on your face then it wasn't there.

You tried to respond kindly, thoughtfully, unsure of exactly how to define the thing between you and even less certain of how Roman saw it,

"Yeah, it's good Roman. We're close." Roman nodded, satisfied enough with the response to continue, desperately trying to ignore the vicious voice of mockery running through his own head, usually echoing his father's words.

"Exactly! We're close...so if I were to call you my girlfriend? That'd be normal right? Like even though we don't..." He trailed off as if he couldn't face addressing his own deviant thoughts or the mental block that stood between him and physical intimacy. His heart hammered in his chest as you considered his words and your own feelings carefully, before gently taking his hand in yours. You let your knees drift apart just enough for Roman to stand between them, encouraging him to take a step forward so your faces were barely an inch or two apart.

"Yeah, I could call you my boyfriend." You tried to deliver the words in the same relaxed tone that the question was asked in, and the walls Roman kept his heart behind betrayed him as a sincere smile flashed across his face at your sweet sentence. He nodded again, his breathing seeming to settle at the agreement, more relaxed now that he knew that these feelings weren't one-sided, that despite being unorthodox this relationship still meant to you what he needed it to.

As the warmth of the moment ran like brandy through his veins he let his eyes drift up to yours, warm and happy, and then to your lips. Roman had never really found himself craving someone's kiss before, but he'd also never felt anything like this, and somehow he knew this time would feel different. Slowly, timidly, like at the back of his mind he still might get a smack across the face at any moment for his behaviour, he leant forward until his lips met yours, barely letting them taste the soft, sweet reception you gave him before drawing back. He took a deep breath and leaned in again, letting himself savour the moment a little longer this time, feeling the corners of his lips tilt up as you kissed him back, the slight pressure against his lips sending his head spinning. His hand found your cheek, somehow even softer than he remembered as he leant his chest forward against yours, his lips parting to capture yours again, needier and hungry to taste more of you, finally understanding why people would write songs and books and films about this feeling, the insatiable need to feel you on his lips sure to plague his thoughts forevermore. You let one hand settle on this back of his neck, thumb stroking softly over the tense muscles there as he forced himself to pull away to breathe, manic hyena laugh echoing through your home as pure exuberance burst out of him that he was finally feeling like this, and with someone as kind and as perfect as you. Quietly you heard him mumble under his breath, "That was actually pretty nice." Which only made you both laugh more, the novelty of finally crossing the line from friends to more, and the ecstatic joy of finding the person you were hoping for, waiting on the other side of that line too.

[sanjisluvbot]

YANDERE STRAWHATS X BLACK FEM READER CH 17

Masterlist

[ I’ll add ch 1-16 here tmr I’m just really tired <3 ]

The silences became unbearable so you decided it was best you spoke up. Your sentences collided, you both stumbling over what the other said. You shared a laugh and decided to let Law go first, anxiously waiting to hear about what was on his mind that made him go complete radio silent at the dinner table.

" Y/N-ya, This conversation is going to make you upset but it's a neccesary one." He started off.

you nodded and waiting for him to continue. He sighed and turned away for a second, anxiety dwelling in the pit of his stomach.

" Before we had really gotten close and I was traveling with you and the strawhats Robin invited me into her study because she had books that would be really interesting to me."

The shock was written all over your face, he was telling you about reading one piece. You gulped down the lump in your throat, Sanji was telling you the truth.

" I'm pretty sure you have an idea of what I am about to say but, I just want you to know I wasn't keeping this from you because I am trying to harm you, and I am not in kahoots with the strawhat crew. ”

You but your lip wondering if the anger was showing itself on your face. You wanted to tell, scream, or even jump him. That wasn’t the right answer though, you knew that, thinking back to all the times you’ve simply done something logical here you always ended up on the wrong side of the stick or sword.

You hummed and looked away from him, “ I choose not to be angry at you. I mean, speaking logically I had done the same thing. Reading the manga and then coming here. I’m just not as free to go back whenever I please as you are.”

Your heart swelled. You felt mature and dignified in this moment, the anger seemed into the back of your mind most likely going to rush forward when you’re alone again but that’s alright. As long as you don’t show them everything will be fine.

“ I mean still… Y/n-ya I betrayed your trust by not telling you this sooner. If I was in your shoes I would probably be screaming from the top of my lungs.”

You laughed. Of course you wanted to do that, to everyone that you’ve encountered in this mysterious world you wanted to scream from the top of your lungs hoping that maybe someone from your home can hear or that maybe god would rescue you.

Unfortunately that’s not reality.

Law spoke about how intrigued he was by your universe. The new technology, the advancements in medicine he’s never heard of. In such a short period of time he spent there he was able to see things people wouldn’t even dream of in this life time.

Bepo and the rest of the crew peeked out the doors and windows amazed to see their never catch him with his pants off captain be so lax. It was like an alien replaced him or he was possessed by a free spirit.

Although you haven’t spent much time with the heart pirates, they adored you. Like basically everyone else they were enamored with the girl from another world, you were this alien creature who spoke so differently, lived differently, just a ball out of left field.

They were more subtle but they watched you as much as anyone else did. They liked the way you did little things and they liked the way you made their captain easier to deal with.

As they watched you two go from awkwardness back to a regular conversation where Law’s smile was prominent and his posture slouched, they wondered what would happen when you went back home.

Of course the captain would miss you, he would probably be even more overbearing just because your presence is gone but they all knew too well what the right thing to do was.

After hearing your story and what you dealt with from the Strawhat pirates they couldn’t help themselves in wanting to protect you. You were too fragile for this world, even though you weren’t even a different species your world is so fragile and life goes so quickly for you. You deserved to enjoy it— even if it meant they would never see you again.

You would always be one of their favorite memories.

The weight on Law’s shoulders was removed. And your comfortable conversation about the stars and what not from your universe could lull him to sleep. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this relaxed around a person— even his own crew.

Your eyes shined under the light of the moon and the hue made a light shade of blue casting over your brown skin. He moved closer, wanting to get a slightly better look at you. After all you’d be leaving in the middle of Wano. That thought brought a sharp pain through Law’s chest and a vein popped out on his temple.

He didn’t want this to be one of the lady times he seen you. Law wouldn’t say it out loud— he couldn’t. Knowing you, you’d probably become spooked by his demeanor. But he was sure that he wanted you in his life for the long run, get to know you like the back of his hand and maybe… just maybe…

His teeth gritted- his own thought annoying him while he was trying to focus on you explaining different telescopes that would let you look at the surrounding planets.

He would have to work over time to at-least attempt in forgetting you. He chuckled out loud at that catching your attention.

“ What’s funny loser.”

Don’t

“ Nothing… I was just thinking of something— continue.”

You smiled and teased him once more making him shy away from showing you his reddening cheeks.

The night is still young and you had so much to talk about, he wanted to be all ears but you just made everything so difficult now.

Luffy was aggravated, you spend less and less time with him and everyone else now. He missed when you would spend all day playing games and just simply having your presence in his vicinity.

Robin told him what happened today and he wanted desperately to be happy but knowing that you and Law were ir already have talked it out made him want to destroy something in front of him.

Nami eyed him, her and Zoro were always first to read Luffy’s emotions and she was tad bit upset at how easily Robin opened her mouth. Telling him any of this isn’t in their best interest right now.

Nami wanted you to stay with them of course but she figured out a different way to ensure that. To ensure that both you and everyone else can finally be happy. But, with Robin or any other crew member coming to the captain every other day to report one thing after another it would be more difficult.

Usually Robin and Ussop would be in her corner but she’s all but alone as of now.

Her thoughts started giving her a head ache and Luffy’s anger was making her anxious. She was going to just put her thoughts to rest for the night. She’s have all the time in the world to figure this out in the morning.

Walking into the other room she bumped into Sanji, who had desserts in his hand and gave her his bright smile. When she declined Sanji’s facade dropped, concern ect he’d across his face.

“ Nami si everything alright?”

“ Yeah Luffy’s just agitated and Robin is adding fuel to his fire. I’m just gonna go to sleep we’ve got things to do tomorrow and I need to devise a plan.”

He told her to wait just a moment in the hall while he dropped off his treats, coming out in less than a minute he smiled at her and offered to make her melatonina tea. She obliged knowing he wouldn’t take no for an answer, and he was obviously worried for her and not up to any of his theatrics.

In the kitchen she sat twirling a spoon in her cup letting every thought and worry fly out of her mouth and Sanji listened intently.

“ I just wish you guys would not tell Luffy things about Y/N and Law so often. We need this alliance— especially right now. In order to win and have Luffy become an emperor we need the heart pirates. I get that we all-”

“ Everything’s going to work itself out.”

She tilted her head and he chuckled at how cute she was mentally begging himself to not make a fool out of himself.

“ We’re all just stressed, too much going on, too much focus on Y/n, and too much pressure from other crews and the people of Wano. I get you’re frustrated— I think we all are even the moss ball.”

“ Well yeah but-”

“ Robin wants to get a reaction out of all of us. Luffy is just an easy target. Luffy would get agitated if Y/n were to even look in Trafalgar’s direction.”

“ I’m just trying to come to an understand of why she wants this reaction out of him right now if all times.”

“ Because just like you she’s devising plans and having a captain who will pop his fuse at just one little thing right now must be vital for it to work.”

“ I guess? ”

She drank the rest of her tea sb headed to her room praying nothing disastrous would come tomorrow.

🏷️ : @chaichaiiskai @mizzhellsingsstuff @herwritingartcowboy @axulaphie @toshirolovebot @futmblr @rhicambo @marim0cha @sasukeswife3 @mitskikinnie100 @alaurannara @angstylittleb1tch

A/N: short chapter Ik but de next Sunday! <3 love you lmk what you thought !!!

[its-in-the-woods]

Chapter 2 of down the rabbit hole

Chapter one here chap three

MDNI

Pairing: Walton Goggins x You

Rating: Not much for this, brief mention of SA, mention of alcohol.

Slow build like novel damn length okay, Very Fluffy, Pinch of Angst, Relationship Development, Hurt/Comfort, Older man/ Younger(30s) women, Alternative universe, fictional work (IDK WHY BUT I AM PUTTING IT) Probably more as I go.

Synopsis: Working in film as a make-up artist is hard enough, but then Walton Goggins requests you, well it's way too easy to fall down the rabbit hole.

Note: they are both single, all for fun.

WARNING I do not have this all written out, I do have it plotted out, but it may be a little slower for chapters to come out. Please bear with me. If you know a Beta to edit please send them to me.

*Before we get into things. Thank you 100x for all the love. It means the world to me*

Somehow four weeks have slipped by. As always, TV series runs like a machine on fire while driving through a snowstorm. Long days, and even longer nights. You wonder briefly why you chose a profession that meant you average four to five hours of sleep. But then Walton brings the whole trailer their favorite coffee and you just shrug the thought off. Working with the cast and crew was like being in one big dysfunctional family. One part hated each other, one part was fucking each other, and another part just held on for the ride. You liked to think you were in the last group, but sometimes when you caught Liz glowering at you, you wondered if maybe you were in the first group. 

“Why does she hate me?” You ask Trevor as you try to eat lunch. Fish wasn’t your first choice but it’s what they had had. 

“Who?” Trevor asks, munching on some strawberries, how the man ate as much as he did and remained tiny was amazing. 

“Liz.” You sigh moving your fork around the plate.

“Liz hates everyone, don’t take it personally.” He grabbed a couple more pieces of fruit. 

“Have you seen the way she looks at me? Like, why bring me onboard if she was just gonna avoid me like the plague?”

“She’s jealous of you.”

You turn and raise your eyebrows at him. “What are you talking about?”

Trevor lets out a snort and chomps down on some cheese. “Girl. Don’t play down your talents. You have worked your damn ass off to get here. One of the best makeup artists out there and Liz knows it. Why do you think Mr. Goggins likes you so much?”

You shrug and pick through your food, the fish was not sitting particularly well. “I am not better than anyone else.”

Trevor swats at you playfully, “Shut up. You can wrangle through asshole actors like no one else. You take zero shit from anyone and you get stuff done on time or before they are needed. You’ll be one of the most valued artists in town in no time.” He chuckles and pushes his own plate away. “Just make sure you bring me along with you.”

You grin back at him. Trevor had never jerked you around like most others. He was right, you did a good job and people appreciated your blatant lack of kiss assery. You fiddle with your fork for a moment before deciding that you had enough for the day. 

***

It was Thursday, which meant the week was almost over. The end was in sight and your bed was calling your name. You’d probably sleep the weekend away and indulge in some overpriced Chinese food. Your thoughts about sweet and sour pork are broken when someone announces they are coming in. Liz walks in and looks you up and down. Dear god, that woman has a chip on her shoulder. She went and pulled out a couple of empty totes. 

“It’s going to be you and Trevor tomorrow and the following week.” She says her lips pressed firmly together, as she talks she goes through drawers grabbing different products.  “Walton is here doing some scenes, Laura will also be here but she shouldn’t be on camera. If she is, I've emailed you notes and pictures.”

You nod, not bothering to look at her as you continue to wash your brushes. Liz continued to add to her bin.  “Sounds good.”

“Look, I know we haven’t been exactly- Friendly.” You turn to look at the woman, she is putting the lid on to the tote. Writing info on a sheet of paper on the top. “But, you do a good job. The director has been very happy with everything. “

“Thank you.” You reply, giving her a small smile. “I appreciate that Liz.”

Liz nods back at you and grabs the tote, waddling out the door. It’s probably the closest you’ve come to liking her. You sit there for a moment, taking in the compliment, maybe things are changing for the better. 

***

Friday is here, and you decided to bring some timbits to celebrate the end of the week. The usually bustling studio lot was quiet. Construction and Set Dec had busied themselves with various other needs. It was refreshing to have a little quiet. You had even been able to park your car right beside the trailer. As much as you loved the absolute chaos that was a film set, the calm was a nice balm. You knew that before long you would miss the chaos, and it would be back with vengeance. 

Laying things out you felt like you could breathe. You had put on some gothic country on the stero, something that only you and Trevor really enjoyed. Both of you had moved from rural areas to do your job. It was another reason why you enjoyed his company. Trevor had set himself up on the second workspace, the two of you spreading out a little while the boss was away. 

“Hello. Lady and gentleman,” Walton’s voice shrill as he came up the stairs. The man was a never-ending ball of energy. You were positive you could do a month of night shooting and he still would come in chipper as if it was his first day. 

“Hey Walt,” Trevor said with a grin, it was hard not to be happy around the man.

“Excited for the weekend?” You ask as you drape him with a cape, popping off his sunglasses and grabbing his other glasses off the counter. As he rereads some lines. 

“I sure am. It feels like it’s been an extra long week.” He sighed, rubbing at his hazel eyes before grabbing a timbit. “These things are delicious, I am going to steal the whole box..” 

You slap playfully at his hand.“Hey now! Make sure I get a few” He gives you a crooked smile and holds one up. You don’t hesitate to lean forward and let him feed it to you. He swallows and looks up at you, as the realization dawns on you as to what you just did. 

“Well-Umm- Next week doesn’t look to bad,” Trevor pipes, shooting you a look, his voice squeaking slightly.

“This is true, just the three of us enjoying a few short days,” Walton says, you are desperately trying to move past what just happened as you grab a moisturizer and apply it gently. His eyes follow you.

“I can certainly say I will enjoy not having to drive all over the place.” You reply, trying not to let your cheeks flush. Reminding yourself sternly that you were a professional and for Pete’s sake you’d been working together for over a month now. 

“You have the craziest eyes.” He whispers as the two of you look at each other. There is no way of hiding the fact your cheeks are burning. Trevor graciously comes over and starts to fuss with his hair. 

“Thank you,” You reply, words caught in your throat. Turning to start packing your set bag, anything to hide the fact that you were bright red. You look up to see Trevor raising his eyebrows at you. You look away and finish things up before sending Walton off to set.

“What was that?” Trevor drawled as he slid into the chair, the look on his face made you want to crawl under the counter. 

“What was what?” You try to dismiss things even if your face is on fire. What the hell had just happened?

“He just fed you a damn donut hole and you are blushing all over Goggins?” Trevor pushes fiddling with a comb, and you really want to throw something at him. 

You freeze a bit and look up at him in the mirror. “Don’t do that.” 

“Do what? See the fact that you two have been goggling over each other for the last four weeks. You just ate food out of his fingers. Wait what does he taste good?’

You do throw a powder puff at him. “You. You stop it. I don’t know what the hell I was doing. It just kind of happened.” 

Yes, you had noticed the little things, but really the man was friendly with everyone. He had always been touchy-feely, but maybe there had been more that you had missed, including eating food out of his fingers. You remember him kissing you on the cheek yesterday morning before leaving. But there couldn’t be anything there, there was nothing there you repeated to yourself. 

“Oh give me a break. He brings you coffee and touches, and kisses your cheek every day. The man has been fawning all over you.”

You bite your lip and turn to look at your colleague, ‘He does that with everyone, Trevor. He’s just friendly.”

You’re now madly stuffing stuff into your bag trying to get out of this newly warm trailer. Trevor snorts and puts his things into his bag. You wish he would drop it, but he was never good at leaving things alone. 

“You keep telling yourself that, sweetheart,” He giggles in an imitation Southern drawl. The two of you hop out of the trailer. You aren’t sure whether to smack him or hug him, either way, there is a job to be done. 

***

It was a textbook day, Walton had nailed almost everything. The man could act there was no doubt about that. The character was a belligerent drunk detective trying to solve a cold case. The script was dark, moody, and well horrible. You didn’t shy away from horror, but true crime always made your stomach flipflop. Your stomach also flipped as you watched Walton go from looking like he was gonna bite someone's head off, to all smiles and laughter. 

You, Trevor, and Walton are walking back to the trailer together. It was actually sunny out, a rare moment for the Pacific Northwest. Costumes had been busy with some extras so you decided to start with him and finish with the others. 

“So do you two have any plans for the weekend?” Walton asks, walking in between both of you.

“I think I might have a date on Saturday,” Trevor replied cheerfully. 

“Oooh and who's the lucky fella?” Walton sing-songed.

Trevor looked flush for a moment, “Decon, from props actually.”

Walton chuckles elbowing Trevor “Well that sounds like an excellent Saturday. Man is gonna have some fun.”

Trevor shakes their head and rolls his eyes “He better show or I am going to have to send you both after him”

Walton bares his teeth and growls, which send everyone into a fit of giggles. Decon be aware, there was a madman coming for you. You thought as you get to the trailer opening the door.

“And what about you, little lady,” Walton drawls, that damn southern accent creeping in. 

“Nothing special. Think sleep and Chinese food are calling my name.” You reply as everyone settles in. Really that would be the best way to end the weekend. 

“Oh, Chinese food sounds amazing.” Trevor pipes in, turning on some tunes. 

“Who needs sleep, it's not that important.” Walton chides as you get to work. “I was wondering if you both would like to come to a small bar not far from here. Transport can drive us there and back, a few of us are getting together for some drinks.”

You catch Trevor's gaze, a sly smile spreading across his face. “Oh, I would love that! Little get-together with our mess of a family.”

“What about you?” The lead asks, rubbing your arm. His hands are warm, you’re surprised to feel a few calluses on his fingers. 

“Oh. Yeah sure. That would be good.” You give a small smile, trying not to let your mind wander too far. If you were honest, the prospect of getting together with a bunch of coworkers was low on your want list. But the look on Trevor's face tells you that you aren't allowed to say no. Your stomach clenches as the memory of a wrap party gone wrong rumbles past your mind. You push that down. It had been almost seven years since that happened, these were different people. People you knew and trusted.

“Fantastic, I am excited to have you both there,” Walton exclaims before closing his eyes to let you finish your job. 

Once Walton is released to Costume, you and Trevor busy yourself with cleaning the trailer. Getting extras cleaned up and making sure everything is ready for the early morning come Monday. You can tell Trevor has been watching you but you can't make yourself say anything. Anxiety has pooled in your stomach like a cold stone and you are struggling to shake it.

“What's wrong?” Trevor asks bluntly sitting down in a free chair. You shake your head and keep your hands moving.

“Come on now. I've never seen you get this clammed up over an invitation to a party. To be fair I've actually never seen you go to a party–” Trevor’s words trail off realization washing over his face. “I know you like your peace, and quiet, but what is going on”

You collapse into the other chair with a deep sigh. Trying to find the words, you really didn't want to explain things too much. That said if there was anyone who'd understand it be Trevor.

“When I first got into the industry.” Your mouth feels so dry even at the thought of it. You grab your water bottle taking a swig.“I went to a wrap party. Got drunk and a guy from Sound took advantage of me. So I've never gone to one since.”

Trevor looks shocked, sadness creeping in at the words. “Hon.That is awful.”

“It happened almost a decade ago. It's fine. Just makes me nervous.” You let out a breath. You weren't going for sympathy, despite it being the worst night of your life, all you wanted was understanding.

Trevor comes over and gives you a big hug. You feel tears prickle in the corner of your eyes. As you let yourself sag against him. You were so thankful for this man, that he was understanding and seemed to care about you. 

“Honey, nothing like that is gonna happen to you tonight. We'll go together and enjoy ourselves. And if any man or woman tries to hurt you I will beat them with my handbag” Trevor reassures you with a small smile. You both chuckle at the last statement 

You sniffle a little, grabbing a tissue from the counter to dab at your eyes. “Thank you, Trevor”

He gives you a reassuring nod as you both get ready to go out. You were determined to make it a good night one way or another. 

Chapter three

Maybe.. maybe.. I will post the next chapter tomorrow cause I am too excited not to share it. Likes, comments, and reblogs are so greatly appreciated. Y'all keep this northern person happy.

[iznsfw]

Eunbi and Taeyeon threesome where Taeyeon unnie teaches Eunbi how to properly please her man 👀

In Absentia Lucis, Tenebrae Vincunt

Part two of Dulce Periculum | Previous Part | Next Chapter

Girls Generation's Kim Taeyeon x IZ*ONE's Eunbi x Male Reader Smut

10,144 words

Categories | sex-ed_professor!Taeyeon x valedictorian!Eunbi x student!Reader, mommy kink, lesbian sex, squirting, breeding

Content warning | teacher/student relationship, age gap (all legal, needless to say), slapping, degradation

mobile masterlist | masterlist

This piece is edited by and dedicated to @midnightdancingsol and @capslocked, two of my favorite writers. Thank you so much, I appreciate it! Originally had a different plot, but ideas hit, and I've been working on this ever since. There wasn't supposed to be mommy kink here, but then I realized that no one has written Eunbi calling someone mommy here before, so I wanted to try that but with my top two, Taengoo ;) IZ's best girls coming your way... now!

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The clock says 10 AM sharp, and the skies are a warm sight of lively blue. Morning has long been here, yet for Kwon Eunbi, it’s an hour she can view as nighttime. With the school uniform keeping her warm from the wind of the powerful air-conditioner, she feels right at home. For once, she cares not for paying attention to lectures or reprimanding her classmates’ buzzing conversations. For once, she puts herself first—not her schoolwork, not her classmates, but her.

It’s not like she can continue her usual routine of studying  even if she wanted to. Her body’s worn from endless days of studying and playing. Her forearms, formerly milky white, are now peppered with purple bruises. With the number of textbooks she’s flipped through under a flickering lamplight, it’s likely that she'll need to replace the lens of her round prescription glasses. 

Still, she’s Sleeping Beauty herself. Chocolate hair falls messily but prettily over the pillow she rests on (AKA your arm) as she finds solace in slumber. The softest of snores barely make it past her full lips pressed together. 

You gently rock her side to side, admiring how pretty she is even when she’s resting. 

Too bad she's sleeping due to stress.

During class. 

For a girl like her, classes are a lifeline. School in general is. She would never dare fall asleep in class. However, here’s the deal: she’s been put through stress harsher than the healthy amount (stress can be healthy, you’d argue, because if someone has nothing to stress about, then surely they aren’t alive?), and she’s starting to give out. Her grades start to stagger as time goes by. She almost passed out during volleyball training and could barely button her uniform right for school because of how tired she is. Eunbi’s leading the volleyball team for your senior year after all; it should be expected, but it just isn’t fair for her, and especially not for you, the one you’d argue cares for her the most. 

Seeing her tired and battered makes you refuse to rouse her. She deserves the rest, more than anyone. 

Jo Yuri, the annoying kid in class sitting at the desk beside you, thinks otherwise. She raises her hand high in the air mid-discussion of the importance of condoms, attracting the attention of your teacher. 

“Professor Kim!” says Yuri; she stands up proudly. Roll your eyes at her, warning her to stay in her lane, but when has Jo Yuri ever done that? She quirks her brows back at you mockingly.

Kim Taeyeon glances at the girl's direction. Shit. Wait, she might have missed her—she’s looking back at Yuri with an inquisitive look. “Yes, miss Jo?” she asks. 

“Eunbi is sleeping.”

“I see that,” says Taeyeon simply. She looks at Yuri from behind her gray-framed glasses with a slightly squinted look. “Anything else less of the obvious I should be informed of?”

A few small chuckles pass around the room. Although people won’t say it directly to Yuri, they all revel in her humiliation. Yuri’s the definition of a brat, and not the good kind. Her parents have funded the school's activities for decades, and because of that, she thinks she’s got a one-way ticket out of anything.

Unfortunately, you aren’t the train conductor. You can’t usher her away for every passenger’s convenience.

“W-well,” Yuri answers, a little unsurely now, “isn’t it basic class etiquette to be alert for discussions? You can’t make an exception for her.”

Taeyeon’s lips create a small, sarcastic smile. 

“Kwon Eunbi works hard, Miss Jo,” Taeyeon says. “If anyone deserves a cut of slack, I’d say that it's her, someone who’s been truly conscientious, and not one who doesn’t put in effort even from a place where most of it has been done for her.”

Yuri’s cheeks transform into two red roses. “B-but, but you scolded me when I fell asleep during class.”

“That’s because you’re not an honor student, Miss Jo.”

The quietness is almost death-like. If it went on any longer, the classroom could become a graveyard. Everyone’s thinking the same thing. You can see it from the looks in their undead eyes. 

“Now, Yuri,” continues Taeyeon, smiling, “would you like to say anything else?”

“No, Professor.” 

“I thought so. Please take your seat.” 

Taeyeon lifts her gaze from Yuri. She then addresses all of you, the calm yet piercing look in her eyes never fading. 

“It would do us well if the only interruptions my class will have from now on are insightful questions and answers. 

“Shall we continue?” 

The class murmurs in response, their words echoing in the room. Yuri glowers in her seat, suddenly taking particular interest in her manicured nails. Even from afar, you can see her red ears.

The combined choir of young voices responding to Taeyeon rouses Eunbi from her sleep. Her eyelids flutter, and she gazes at you with sleepy eyes. She still hasn’t registered everything. 

“Good morning, sunshine,” you say with a grin. 

Eunbi looks at her surroundings, then at Taeyeon, who’s continuing to teach. 

“Oh God, oh fucking fuck.” 

Suddenly, her notebook and pen are all on her table, clicked and open. She glances at you with panic in her beautiful face. “What did I miss?” she asks frantically. 

You don’t know how to tell her that you’ve witnessed a once-in-a-lifetime sighting: the annoying kid getting a taste of their own medicine. 

But you smile instead. 

“Nothing, babe.” You kiss her forehead. “A whole lot of nothing.” 

- 

“Class dismissed,” Taeyeon announces. “Have fun at the intramurals, everyone!” 

The class files out rather slowly. Some are caught up in conversation about her earlier scolding of Yuri, and others are still arranging their books into their backpacks. Whoever’s already taking their exits are yelling their goodbyes, waving at her cheerfully; she waves at them, too, with a kind smile of her own. Despite her strict upholding of rules in class and her no-bullshit approach to discipline, she wants to show her students that she’s still a good teacher. She remains the same: someone who wishes to make a healthy connection with her students. 

The last to leave are the boy and his little valedictorian of a girlfriend. It’s been a year since they two had gotten closer. Although they never officially announced it, Taeyeon can see the status of their relationship in the little things: their joined hands that draw envious looks, Eunbi's head on his arm, and the playful touches. It’s sweet seeing connections grow between her pupils, but she can’t help feeling a little... 

Jealous? 

Is that what it is? Taeyeon contemplates as she sits back down. 

Yes, she is jealous, but not because she misses the proud, youthful feeling of being an adult nearly out of high school. She misses those days, that’s for sure, but it isn’t the root of her feelings. (She’s certain—not entirely yet—that it’s because of their relationship. 

She’s only been teaching for a year, so she makes it a habit to catch a pretty face among the masses. For example, Kim Minju is pretty, but the honor student has a different kind of prettiness in her possession. It... attracts her. 

And so does the boy.)

Said boy looks at Eunbi expectantly whilst he waits at the doorway. He’s the delinquent, isn’t he? His wrinkled uniform is enough indication—the punks always dress like that no matter the dress code or situation. They could be at their grandfather’s funeral and they’d still dress like a missing kid who’s learned to adapt to the streets. 

“You coming, Eunbi-ya?” he asks her.

Does he ask her that privately? When he’s fucking her? When he’s pinning her down to the bed while her parents are out of town, as he gives her a hard and well-deserved pounding? He’d look so good doing that; he's far more attractive than he likes to make it to be. He’s nineteen, after all—boys are still like that at that age, even though they’re barely teenagers anymore. 

Taeyeon can’t take her eyes off him. She doesn’t know how to; it’s like they're permanently glued to his movements, like she's only capable of looking at him and nothing and no one else.

What do her moans sound like when he’s fucking her? 

Turns out she can, but only for the girl. She’s saying something to her boyfriend, but with how much she’s absorbing her—her body, her face, her cute little smile—she doesn’t quite hear everything.

Her moans would sound so pretty; she speaks so prettily that she’d sound good even when she’s below him. She’s a screamer, I bet, she looks like the type of girl who’d cry when— 

“Professor? Excuse me, professor?”

Speak of the fucking devil (... angel?). 

It was unusual of her to be caught by her students without her guard up. She has to remain focused. When those large, bouncy things are directly under her nose only restrained by a school blouse a tad too small, it’s difficult to. 

“Yes, Miss Kwon?” asks Taeyeon, brought back to Earth. 

“Um.” 

Eunbi has her hands behind her back. Her eyelashes flutter beautifully as she guiltily fails to meet her eyes, leaving much to Taeyeon’s imagination about a fictive good little Eunbi, who’d sit on her teacher’s plaid-skirted lap and say soft, innocent things like that and—and—

“I’m sorry for falling asleep in class,” Eunbi says in a small voice. “I didn’t mean to. I was just so tired, I… I couldn’t help it. And I know that’s not a good excuse—”

I swear, if you put your tits in my face one more fucking time, rambles the voice in Taeyeon’s head—(it’s been there for a while now, and comes to life whenever she sees the wind blow Eunbi’s skirt up just right, or when the school collar fails to hide the forbidden view when she bends down to pick up a fallen pencil); it’s not my fault anymore if I do anything.

It’s such a raw, wrong thought, because it isn’t Eunbi’s fault either that she’s so tempting. It’s not her fault that those lips of hers curl downwards in the cutest, most pitiable angle or that her body is naturally carved to fit more than a handful. However, when one knows what they feel is morally repulsive, they tend to put the blame on anyone else but themselves.

 “Water under the bridge, miss Kwon. We all have our moments.”

Eunbi looks surprised. “Really?”

“Really,” Taeyeon repeats. 

Eunbi smiles widely. Even the way she grins is pretty. “Thank you, professor,” she says gratefully, bowing ninety degrees. 

Taeyeon chuckles amusedly. “No need to bow like I’m an emperor, of course. Just do your best in the intramurals. I believe in you.”

“Yes—” 

- 

“(,) but I don’t think I can do this. Please, oppa.”

“Eunbi, that’s nonsense. You’re a great player, you’re gonna be fine.” 

Star player and top student Kwon Eunbi squirms fearfully. That many achievements to her name and she still has doubts about her own abilities. 

“I'm... I'm really not,” she says in a small voice. 

She looks around the covered court with fear dancing in her large brown eyes. All these students—her classmates, anyway—are rooting for her. Thirty-six and more have all laid their eyes and expectations on her. She figures that’s probably what scares her more rather than the game itself. 

“I don't want to do this,” she whines.

“But you can’t do anything about it now, can you, baby?” you ask her. Your hands frame her nervous face, rubbing your thumbs over her cheeks. 

“I can, actually,” she says. “I can just go up there, say ‘oh, fuck this, fuck you all; I’m not doing it,’ watch them go bananas over it.”

Her lips have a sarcastic side to the smile it holds, but you know her. You know that she’s actually considering it. For the first time in her school life, she’s contemplating ditching it all for something, anything that isn’t this game.

She’s looking down at her rubber shoes again, but you raise her face to look you in the eyes. “You signed up to play. You’re a varsity player now. So you have to go do it whether you like it or not.”

Eunbi presses her forehead to yours and closes her eyes with a sigh. “I know,” she whispers. “I know.”

Considering your first intimate encounter was rough lustful sex, the two of you actually really care about each other. It made you realize that your crush on her isn’t purely from lust. You care about her, and you’re not happy about the amount of stress she's been under. To be fair, the whole school is suffering, including you, but you’re a known failure. You couldn’t give less of a fuck if your future transformed into a person, went on its knees, and begged you to take it seriously. Exam season is another Tuesday to you: nothing to care about, nothing new.

But for Eunbi? Exams and games mean everything. She has her reputation of being an honor student and overachiever to maintain. She has her parents, who are constantly pressuring her to join every extracurricular activity under the sun, to please. Additionally, due to a particular school board teacher’s brilliant idea to schedule the intramurals a week before the exam season, she has to juggle hours of eternal volleyball practice and studying and tutoring students to make it through the year. She barely has time in her packed schedule to breathe. 

While the students on the bleachers are roaring and cheering excitedly in their color-coded shirts, she's in a tight sleeveless white shirt stressed to death. 

There’s only a few minutes until the most important volleyball match of her life. What could go wrong? 

(Everything.)

“Baby,” you say softly. “Baby, listen to me.”

Near tears, Eunbi looks up at you. “Yeah?” she asks. 

You kiss her sore fingers, the insides of her thin wrists, and the bruises from the volleyball that mark her forearms. Kiss her where it validates her pain. Kiss her where it hurts. Kiss her where it means something.

“Whatever happens in the game,” you tell her truthfully, “I’ll still love you. I’ll still be proud of you. So just do your best for me, okay? I’ll be there all the way.” 

“You promise?” Eunbi raises two fingers wrapped in medical tape.

“I promise.” Make your promise by gently grasping the digits she holds up. “Hell, I bet Professor Kim would be holding up a ‘Kwon Eunbi 4 The National Team’ tarpaulin.”

Eunbi giggles. You both know who you’re referring to: your sex ed professor, Kim Taeyeon. She started teaching at your high school just this senior year, and looks young for her age. Many students adore her, but she only really has one favorite, Eunbi. Always particularly sweet with her, just like earlier, and always attentive to her intelligent questions. If it weren’t for Eunbi being eighteen going on nineteen and in high school and Taeyeon a teacher, anyone would have thought the latter had a crush on her. 

Her defense of Eunbi earlier just adds to your suspicions. 

If Eunbi reciprocates those alleged feelings, you’d see why. Taeyeon is a charmer. She’s watching the basketball game with crossed arms and a stern look behind her round spectacles. Without saying anything, she attracts people. Anyone can see how beautiful Taeyeon is. She gave a short welcoming speech earlier and you could hear the oohs and ahhs of both parents and students alike. 

“Oh, hush,” Eunbi says, waving it off, but she’s visibly more cheered up. “She likes me, but not that much.”

“If she liked you less, she wouldn’t have let you off the hook for napping.”

“It’s called empathy, dear oppa,” says Eunbi, flicking your forehead. “Don’t s’pose you know what that means.”

“Someone’s got a crush on their sex ed teacher.”

“And if I do, so what? She’s really beautiful.”

Take your biased eyes off Eunbi and you’d see that she’s beyond the statement of just “really beautiful.” Taeyeon has the look and aura of an older friend who’s blunt but loving, and would help you out of sticky situations, but not without tough-love advice. Her hair and minimal makeup always look perfect and natural, besides the fact that she looks quite young for her age. 

But you won’t see that until later. 

“See? If you need anyone to do your best besides me, do it for professor,” you add to make her laugh. “Okay?”

Eunbi wipes the last of her tears. She’s chuckling as she shakes her head at her current emotions. She’s Kwon Eunbi, for fuck’s sake, why is she like this? “Okay,” she says. She sounds a little more assured now. “I will. Thank you, oppa. I love you.”

“Same here.” You kiss her cheek. Comb your fingers through tangled strands of her side fringes left unrestrained by her high ponytail and pat her shoulder. “Ready?”

“Yep. Never been more ready.”

- 

Eunbi’s team lost the game.

It wasn’t her fault. A lot of her volleyball teammates kept missing whenever the white ball was plunged back over the net. And by “a lot,” you mean fucking every one of them. She basically hardcarried the team. More bruises started to appear on her beautiful arms, and she looked more and more discouraged as the game time quickly passed. 

The first thing she did was rush in your arms after the game.

“Oppa,” she muttered softly. She’s all sweaty and wet, but you didn’t mind. She needed you, and even if she needed you while covered head to toe with acid, you’d still hug her.

“I’m here.” 

The second thing she did was weep.

“I fucked up,” Eunbi moaned, burying her head further in your shoulder. Now tears replaced the sweat that coated your skin. “I… I couldn’t catch the ball, and—”

“That’s not your fault, Eunbi. Your teammates were shit.” 

Even as she continued to cry, she went to their defense. “Don’t talk about them like that. They did their best.”

If the situation wasn’t pulling her self-esteem down this much, you’d laugh in her face. “You call that best?” you asked.

Her incompetent teammates made you infuriated. They caused your girlfriend’s wane of confidence and more tears right after. It only made your anger grow from a flame to a fucking house fire. 

“I… I just need a break,” she murmured. “But I never get it. It’s all just stupid fucking games, stupid fucking quiz bees. I’m just some toy to be passed around whenever there’s a competition that needs winning.” She chuckled sarcastically. “Nothing more.”

“Eunbi—”

“I’m gonna take a shower,” she said firmly, putting a full stop to the conversation. She was done here. She didn’t want to go back.

Eunbi took to the school showers after that like she said, and dressed back into her little school uniform for the resumption of classes later. What you didn’t know is, after everything that happened, she still intended to get dirty. 

The program is still going on. Lee Chaeyeon and the rest of the dance club are performing a dance number as an intermission. As the trendy pop beat resounded through the school grounds,  Eunbi dragged you back to an empty classroom and sat you down. 

“Eunbi!” 

Her knees land on the tiled, classroom floor. “Mmm, just... oppa, let me do this.” Eunbi frustratedly pulls down your jeans. She wipes the back of her hand on her lips. “I saw oppa staring at my chest earlier. He was more focused on them than the game.” 

She’s wrong for that. Well, partly wrong but— 

“Eunbi, aren’t there—” Tap her gently on the cheek when she keeps pulling your pants down. “Eunbi, oppa’s talking.” 

Eunbi looks up. “Yes, oppa?” she asks. 

“Aren’t there other ways to de-stress? I—I can buy you some ice cream. Baskin Robbins, just how you like it. We can even cuddle later if you want to. It doesn’t have to always be like this.” 

She’s licking your cock sloppily now, as if she needed to do it or she’d have to repeat a whole game again. Your cock is her source of serotonin and dopamine—even chemistry can’t teach her that. (Sorry, professor Myoui, you’d say; but it’s the truth.) 

Eunbi, with her pouty lips and ponytail coincidentally perfect for what’s about to happen, shakes her head. “No,” she says firmly. “I want oppa’s cock right now. I don’t want anything else.” 

She sucks on your cockhead severely, treating it like her own candy. The pleasure hits, even though it only affects the tip of your length. You moan softly. She moans, too, and it goes on even without touching herself. She loves being a good girl for your cock. That alone gets her off. 

If the school knew of the little tutoring incident that sparked your relationship, they’d be scandalized. That part is something you know secretly makes her wetter than you can imagine. The cliché, teen love story-ness of it all—you, a guy who wouldn't give two fucks about school even if you were paid to do it, and her, someone who’d die rather than put off a day of studying but would get on her plaid skirt coated knees for you—is something she’d like to roll her eyes at, but it's kind of destiny, isn’t it? Just like the stories. 

What if they know? The teachers could suspend you. Better yet, expel you and put it on your permanent record. 

Oh, but they don’t need to know about how fucking pretty Eunbi can look like when she’s being good for you. You can submit the squirms of her thick yet toned thighs, the passiveness evident in her eyes, and the eagerness her voluptuous body holds to pleasure you and herself as evidence. Nothing more is needed to prove it. 

They don’t need to know. 

Eunbi pauses her effortless bobs of her head to moan. “I love your cock, oppa,” she confesses, though it isn't really a confession when one thinks about how evident it is. Her tender licks already hold adoration in them.

Chuckle. You can get used to this. “More than me?” you ask. 

“Nooo... oppa, I love you, too. You know that. But, hmm,” she licks your cock worshipfully, “this is number two. Mwah.”

“Good girl. You can touch yourself, you know.”

Eunbi gives you a clever grin. “I don’t have to. I have you.” 

Touché. 

She resumes sucking you off, letting out soft “Mmph”s of pleasure and satisfaction as she goes. Over time, she’s gotten better at giving you head. Her sloppiness begins to feel fulfilling, and she learns to make good use of her sweet, full lips as she wraps them on the sides of your cock and around it. Occasionally, she pushes up her glasses so that they don't slide off her nose while she goes about her pleasurable blowjob, which adds a more wholesome and cuter side to the daring fiasco the two of you are engaging in. 

“Mmm, love this cock.” Eunbi gives loving kisses to your length. Her tongue erotically stimulates it with languid licks and sets fire to your emotions. “I can’t live without it. Hmph. All I'm ever good for.”

“Eunbi,” you say, concerned, “don't—” 

“Please, oppa,” she says. Her eyes make contact with your own, and she pouts prettily. “Let me do this. I need you.”

Your cock rubs the inside of her cheek. It makes a visible imprint, making her look like she’s munching on ice. She ensures to devote soft laps of her tongue on the sides of your length. When she takes it all in, you gasp. You’re too wrapped up at her tongue also licking your heavy balls to be distracted by her whimpering. The deeper your cock goes inside her pretty mouth, the tighter her throat becomes. Her hands squeeze your thighs powerfully. 

“Fuck.” 

“There’s more where that came from,” she says cheekily. 

“Oh yeah?”

She nods. 

“Show me, then.”

Her lips part, as if going for an open-mouthed kiss, but it simply takes a couple inches of your length, caressing them with the softness of her balmed tiers and wetness of her mouth. She withdraws, then repeats, but now with more of your cock in her mouth. She looks up at you expectantly for approving reactions, but you give them, and would have given them without her expecting you to. 

“Yes, fuck, yes, Eunbi.” Her hair tangles in your hand. She whines a little when your tip reaches further places down her throat. The jeers and yells of school spirit outside you’d love to join in, but you'd choose Eunbi's cute moans any day of the week, weekdays through weekends. “Take my cock. That’s a good girl. My good girl.”

Although she finds it difficult to deepthroat you, you can see her shiver at being called that. She likes it, oh, yes she does: being told she’s under your ownership, and being treated as such. With your cock fucking her tight throat and your hand pulling on her hair like you hate her rather than love her, it's all true. True and clear. 

“Love you, oppa,” she says in between suckles of worship on your dick. Her eyes are watery, but now from the pleasure of having her mouth used. Oh well, it’s better than negative. 

“Love you, too, sweet girl.” That’s another thing you like to call her: good girl, good sweet little thing, which sounds so corny but fits so well with her. And she likes it—and you can’t deny a good girl of being exactly that. Besides, she looks so sweet with her lips parted to fit your cock like that, and her eyes full of tears. She’d— 

The door creaks open. Oh, curse interruption. Goddamned interruption. 

Wait— 

You look up. Oh, fuck— 

“Professor!” you and Eunbi yell out in surprise. 

A stuttering Eunbi withdraws her mouth from your cock, looking at her teacher with bewildered, brown eyes. You aren’t sure what exactly she’s thinking, but you can place fear in that face of hers. You’re pretty sure you look red as hell, too. 

Kim Taeyeon is standing at the door. She’s watching the two of you closely. How long has she been watching? Or... or perhaps she just caught the two of you in the act? Her face holds an expression of nonchalance, like she’s been expecting this to happen.

All the earlier thoughts come back. You were so turned on by the thought of getting caught, but now that it’s happened, you realize you just put Eunbi’s future at stake. You might not care about your own, but you care about Eunbi. She has a whole, long and successful life in front of her, and you might have just ruined it. 

“P-professor,” Eunbi stutters. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. Her eyes grow wider as Taeyeon approaches her. With each step Taeyeon takes, she grows more scared. “It’s, it’s not what it looks like! I was just—” 

“Shhh.”

Taeyeon pushes the side of her finger to Eunbi’s lips. There’s little distance between them. Eunbi’s knees would have knocked severely into Taeyeon's if not for the shushing index. 

Eunbi’s flustered by their closeness. Her voice, normally so confident when stating answers in class, is broken in pathetic stutters. “P-professor,” she tries to say, weakly, her hands waving about, “it’s really not what it looks like. I was just—we were j-just…” 

“Resting!” you pipe up, getting to your feet. It’s stupid, but it’s the only thing you can think of as an excuse. 

Eunbi nods. “Yes! Resting! I was lying on his lap!” she adds helpfully. 

Taeyeon stares at you two coldly for a few, long seconds, then chuckles softly. “Resting?” she repeats, and tilts her head to the side. 

“Y-yes. And, and I was drooling, and it was—”

“Miss Kwon.”

“—really hot so I kind of, kind of fell to the—” 

“Miss Kwon.” Taeyeon's eyes flare dangerously. “I told you to keep that mouth shut, didn’t I? Or do you just not listen to your teachers anymore?”

Eunbi’s eyes water. That’s the biggest insult anyone could ever tell her. School life means everything. If she couldn’t listen to her teachers, what good can she be? 

You place a reassuring hand on her shoulder and step forward. “It was my fault, professor,” you say. How to get balls big enough to admit to that? Just ask Kwon Eunbi for a fucking blowjob, that's how. “I wanted a quick, uh, blow,” you wince, “so I asked her to do it for me. It wasn't her fault.”

“I knew what the two of you were doing, sweetheart. I wasn’t born yesterday. My only problem is that Eunbi doesn’t know what she’s doing, nor is she doing it properly.”

“Professor—” Eunbi tries to defend herself. 

“Sit down, boy,” says Taeyeon to you. You do, hesitantly. You have no idea what’s about to happen. She gestures to Eunbi. “Miss Kwon, come here.” 

Eunbi follows blindly, getting on her knees again. She’s still looking at her teacher with disoriented eyes. 

“Look here, sweetheart,” Taeyeon says. She grabs Eunbi’s chin to direct her gaze to your cock. Then, she wraps her hand around your member and jerks upward. ‘Have you blown your boyfriend much?” 

“S-sometimes,” says Eunbi, looking up at you unsurely. But you’re too busy gasping at your teacher's strong, firm hand to return her gaze. 

“Don’t you know that the first thing you have to do is to give him a few pumps? It’s not necessary, but it’s good to get him going. Just like this.” Taeyeon slowly jerks your cock up and down, keeping a grip that’s tight but not too much that it’s uncomfortable. Her thumb rests on your cockhead to rub its sensitive surface, making you tense up. 

Eunbi watches with hesitant yet curious eyes. 

“Don’t go too fast now,” advises Taeyeon. “The whole point is your mouth. That’s where you want to hold nothing back. Do you understand me?” 

Even as she teaches Eunbi how to pleasure you, something that's a little dangerous even for a sex ed subject, her voice remains the same as her teaching one: calm, no-nonsense, and nurturing. You’re a little turned on by it, you’re not gonna lie. Additionally, there’s Eunbi sitting there with her hands on her lap, looking like an obedient puppy as she listens to Taeyeon, ever the valedictorian. 

“Yes, professor,” says Eunbi. She looks at you closely. “Oppa, are you okay?” 

“Never been better,” you rasp out. 

Taeyeon sifts through Eunbi's hair with her gentle fingers. “See?” she assures her. “He’s alright. He’ll feel even better when you learn how to put that pretty mouth to good use.” 

Scarlet creeps onto Eunbi’s ears and face. Her thighs squirm again. “But it’s wrong,” she whispers. Uncertainty is written all over her face. “We could get in trouble for this, professor. I’m, oh, I’m so wet, b-but my grades—”

Taeyeon has had enough of her talking. She leans forward and shuts her up with a firm kiss. 

Your mouth falls open. 

Eunbi's pupils grow large like a cat’s in the dark. Her hands are suspended mid-air, seemingly unaware of what they should do. Meanwhile, Taeyeon has already grabbed Eunbi's tiny waist, insistent on keeping her close to her. 

But then, like ice, Eunbi melts. She melts into the sin, she melts into Taeyeon. Her lips find themselves locked tighter with the older woman’s. She becomes the one who pushes forward, looking for more of that sweet taste. 

Should you feel hurt? Scandalized, perhaps? Angry? You attempt to find the morally correct emotion to have in this situation, and you come to realize that you feel none of them. Instead, as you watch your teacher dominate your girlfriend in a French kiss, you’re painfully turned on.

Taeyeon lets her go after a few seconds. She cups a hand around Eunbi's full breast. Gently, she parts the buttoned lapels of the uniform and helps the girl undo her bra. Eunbi's expression remains one of disbelief and arousal. It switches to pure horniness when Taeyeon starts to suck and bite at her big, beautiful breasts. She begins to squirm, but Taeyeon holds her in place. 

“Professor…” Eunbi whimpers. “Please, they’re so sensitive.” 

“Shhh, let mommy do the work.” The professor squeezes the two round breasts at the same time, licking one’s nipple lovingly. “You like your teacher sucking your tits like these, Eunbi-ya?” 

“Hnnn, yes,” squeaks out Eunbi, closing her eyes. “Professor, I—”

“It’s mommy,” corrects Taeyeon, kissing her student on the lips. “I thought you’d pick up on that, darling. You’re my top student, right?”

“I’m sorry, mommy. P-please suck my tits again. I’ll be a good girl.” 

Never did you think that hearing your girlfriend call an older woman mommy would make you so hard. “Fuck,” you curse. You rise from the chair to join them. You’ve never heard of morality; its meaning evaporated the moment their lips joined.

“No, boy, stay there,” Taeyeon orders. “I’m going to show your girlfriend how to really ride dick.”

All of a sudden, not one article of clothing lies on Taeyeon’s body. The sweatshirt and jeans no longer hide her beautiful figure. Now, you can behold the glory of her body completely. Her form is toned and small. Her pilates, which she talks about when asked during classes, really helped carve her perfect belly. Her pink nipples, hard from the air-conditioner wind, sit on top of her handful-sized breasts, begging to be touched. 

Eunbi looks like she’s just seen a goddess. Her worshipful gaze runs up and down the professor’s buttocks and breasts. Most importantly, there’s Taeyeon’s small, shaved pussy to marvel at. “Mommy,” your girlfriend says, “mommy, you’re so beautiful.”

“Thank you, baby,” says Taeyeon, bearing a confident smile. “Watch and learn, okay? And you,” she looks over at you, and leans down so only you can hear as she whispers: “Try not to cum so fast.”

You’d defend yourself if she didn’t slam her beautiful ass so quickly on your lap. That’s when your cock slips inside her, causing the both of you to moan and, additionally, for you to figure out exactly why she told you that. Your teacher is so fucking tight. Your cock immediately is covered by her juices, from base to tip.

“Oh, fuck!” Taeyeon cries out. Both her eyes and mouth become round at the pleasure she takes in. She looks at Eunbi in disbelief. “You really take this dick everyday?”

Eunbi doesn’t know how to respond. All that comes out of her mouth are moans. You suppose she’s a bit lost about what to feel right now as well. Perhaps she’s rejecting what she feels, which is turned on. But that can’t be it: her fingers are already under her skirt, trying to replicate the pleasure Taeyeon must feel about your dick. 

“D-does it feel good, mommy?” she can’t help but ask. A small part of her young heart is mortified at the scene of her boyfriend fucking another woman, but another part is curious. She’s never seen her teacher in this state, and probably never will again. Eunbi’s mind is voracious on any hints of pleasure Taeyeon feels.

“Y-yes, oh my god,” says Taeyeon. She tries to maintain a neutral expression, but fails. “See what I’m doing? Circle, fuck, your hips a bit, just like this, s-so it feels good for you, too.”

Taeyeon lifts her hips a little, letting the rest of your length breathe for a little while. “Then take a few of it inside to get ready. You just have to get used to the size. After you’re used to it, you can start riding him.”

You’re left breathless in the wooden school chair as your sex ed teacher does exactly that. After riding only the first couple inches of your dick, she starts violently slamming herself up and down. You have to hold on to her muscular thighs to subconsciously direct her to slow down. And she does, but still not at a pace you can take. Her breasts keep bouncing in front of your face, as if they were asking you to devour them or choose death. And, with Taeyeon’s slick, tight cunt around you, you really don’t want to die yet. 

Capture her breast in your mouth. Her sharp fingernails press down on your scalp. Her pitched moans beat on your eardrums. You can barely even hear Eunbi’s soft cries of pleasure anymore, nor can you place the sound of skin slapping and touching. Even the outside sounds of students cheering and referees narrating sound inaudible when Taeyeon’s obscene moans fill too much of the atmosphere.

“Good boy, bounce me on that big fucking cock,” growls Taeyeon. Her pussy grows impossibly tight, and you’re forced to perform your own upward thrusts to continue penetrating your painfully hot teacher. “Give our girl a show, you know you want to.”

You’re not a submissive guy, but you can live with Taeyeon praising you and calling you a good boy. You can live with her sweet, delectable vagina fucking itself on your cock. Fine, you admit you can live with Taeyeon basically confirming her ownership over your girlfriend Eunbi. But more than anything, you want to please her, to please your mommy. So it’s inevitable that you fuck her faster and rougher, summoning all the might you have in your body to make her scream.

Eunbi’s definitely been given a show, one that’s good enough for her to get off to. “Fuck, oppa,” whines Eunbi, ecstatic. The gleam in her eyes exhibits slight jealousy and more bliss. “It looks like it feels so good. I…” Her eyes shut, and her lips purse. “I’m so close.” Her fingers pump faster. Her hole struggles to catch up with the almost brutal pace of her digits. 

“I’m close, too, fuck!” Taeyeon says. It’s almost like she’s angry when she throws her hips up and down, back and forth. She has more strength than your phys-ed teacher, that’s for sure. It’s like the gyrating of her body holds no self-control, and her mind is just on you and your cock, and nothing else. “Yes, yes, make me cum! Make mommy a slut for your cock!”

And you’d say you succeeded—Taeyeon’s voice reaches volumes a human being should be incapable of making. Her legs curl around your waist and behind the school chair to keep you as deep as possible as she cums on you. By then, you’ve sucked her breasts to redness and soreness.  By then, Eunbi had reached her climax. You’ve managed to stave off your own. Some other time, you’d look back and wonder how you did it.

“Good boy,” Taeyeon gasps. She lifts your face up and kisses you on the mouth. “Such a good boy.”

“I want a turn, too, mommy,” says Eunbi. She’s pouting; there’s a whine tied around her tone. “Please? Please?”

Your professor removes herself from your lap. Her body has lost some of its former strength, but her actions still possess womanly confidence. She takes a slow walk over to Eunbi, kneels to her level, and lifts her chin upwards. 

“Only if you promise to show what mommy taught you and clean off your oppa’s cock.”

“I will.” Eunbi nods furiously and repeatedly. She’s more than happy to do that just to have a turn of your cock. “I will, please, please let me!”

She crawls over between your legs. She forgoes the jerking part of Taeyeon’s hands-on lesson and goes for your cock with her lips immediately. Eunbi’s pink tongue glides on the coat of slick Taeyeon left on your length, delicately cleaning it up. The juices are replaced with her saliva. Carefully, inch by inch, she bobs her head on your dick, collecting the delicious taste of her teacher and the musky scent of your cock.

Her throat still isn’t used to your size. So, when she tries to take you in like she did earlier, she gags. You’re careful not to thrust in her mouth too much. You don’t want to hurt her, or block her from creating those adorable sounds of determination and arousal.

“Good girl,” coos Taeyeon, softly encouraging the girl to go on. “Just breathe through your nose, sweetheart. Take deep breaths. That’s my girl.”

When Eunbi comes back up for air, she’s breathless. Her shoulders ascend and fall with difficult pants. “Did I do good?” she asks expectantly. 

“You did better than earlier,” Taeyeon says. “Did he taste good?”

“Yes, he did. But you were delicious, too, mommy.”

“You’ve always been a sweet girl, Eunbi,” Taeyeon remarks. She plants a kiss on Eunbi’s neck. “Just for that, you can have your oppa’s dick and taste mommy at the same time.”

Eunbi draws in a little excited breath. She practically drags you to the teacher’s desk that Taeyeon directs the two of you at, and lies down almost immediately when asked. Taeyeon pulls down your girlfriend’s schoolgirl skirt and volleyball shorts, which boasts a prominent cameltoe. But you and Taeyeon are able to see the real thing after just a few tugs of her clothes downwards.

There’s a genuine smile on Taeyeon’s face. “What a pretty little pussy.” She turns to you. “Tell me, is she tight?”

“See for yourself, professor,” you say without realizing it.

Even Eunbi is surprised. She lifts her back off the table. “Oppa— ah!” 

Taeyeon’s finger finds shelter in Eunbi’s grippy pussy. Eunbi struggles and moans. You can see her little hole clasp onto the singular finger that intrudes its space, and how her enclosed walls part. 

“Oh, ,” says Taeyeon with an evil grin on her goddess-like face. “She is.”

She moves her finger in and out, watching Eunbi’s blissful reactions to it. 

“How can she take your cock if she’s this tight?”

“I’ll—ah!” Eunbi winces. Her legs close together, but that doesn’t stop the greedy Taeyeon. “I’ll do my best, mommy, I promise! I just want oppa’s cock!”

“Very well. Open your mouth and legs, Miss Kwon. Take those glasses off, too, and get ready. We’re not going to be gentle with you.”

Eunbi does as told. The honor student in her is still there behind the sex toy she’s become for you and Taeyeon. Her immediate obedience says it all. While Taeyeon throws one leg over the side of the table and her face, you part her legs. Eunbi’s legs never failed to amaze you. Her thighs, though muscular from running around the covered court all day, are full and jiggly enough to hold and use. Maybe one day you’ll give in and fuck her thighs. Cream them with semen milkier than her skin itself.

But her pussy will do just fine today, you think, if not better.

You and Taeyeon go to town in your respective parts at the same time. You fill Eunbi up with one, hard thrust, causing her to moan into Taeyeon’s pussy. Taeyeon sighs happily, too; Eunbi’s warm, wet tongue feels insanely good inside her pussy. Although inexpert and untried, just the steady thrusts of her tongue inside her can do. 

“G-good girl, Eunbi,” she sighs. “Good girl.”

Eunbi’s whine of happiness turns into a groan after you form a steady rhythm. The teacher’s desk creaks back and forth along with your hips. You and Taeyeon squeeze and play with Eunbi’s huge tits, sometimes slapping them to draw a muffled, helpless reaction from her. But one look into each other’s eyes confirms this: you need to have each other, too.

Blinded by pleasure to be afraid, you lean forward and kiss Taeyeon. She’s hardly surprised, as if she expected that to happen. She earnestly kisses back. She’s sighing against your mouth. She tastes sweet; you understand now why Eunbi kissed her back like a greedy animal earlier. Your tongue navigates every sweet spot in her mouth, curling ‘round Taeyeon’s own tongue, as she fucks Eunbi’s mouth and you fuck her cunt.

Taeyeon bites your lower lip, licks it, then smirks. “Good boy,” she whispers sultrily. She kisses you again, ignoring the look of utter passiveness in your face caused by her tone and words. Gripping onto Eunbi’s bouncing boob in one hand and the other grasping the back of your head, she pulls you in for a deeper kiss. It’s something you’re glad to reciprocate; you don’t want to hear how pathetic you sound moaning because of Eunbi’s little pussy.

Eunbi has never eaten pussy before, but she knows what feels good. She tests it out by keeping a firm, hard pressure on Taeyeon’s clit. It elicits a positive response: a slightly louder moan from the other woman, and the rougher gyrate of her hips. She can’t see anything besides Taeyeon’s back and round ass. Her legs are numb from the consistent pounding, and she truly can’t feel anything besides breathlessness and pleasure. Her mind goes back to what Taeyeon taught, and finds that what makes her hornier is that Taeyeon is forgoing all that she taught—going against her own teachings, being a hypocrite—and fucking her mouth like she’s just a toy. It makes her so incredibly turned on.

“Fuck! Keep fucking me like that, Eunbi! Fuck yes, fill her up, fill our good girl up like that!”

Your thrusts get rougher, and Taeyeon feels Eunbi’s mouth give their all in eating her. The short, blunt flicks to her clitoris become full-on sucklings alternated with tongue-fucking. Unable to handle it, she lets out a guttural cry, slapping one of Eunbi’s breasts roughly, then wrapping her hands around her pretty neck. 

“Come on, toy.” She slams her ass down on Eunbi’s face angrily. Her hands squeeze tighter around the girl’s throat. “Do what you’re good at. Eat my fucking cunt, make me cum.”

Eunbi begins to cry. Her squeal vibrates on Taeyeon’s pussy as her tongue plays with and fucks Taeyeon’s pussy. It’s so messed up, but Eunbi being used impulsively makes you fuck her harder. Her pussy traps your coming-and-leaving shaft as a steady spray of clear squirt goes your way. Eunbi’s screaming, trying to vent her pleasure by eating Taeyeon out more, which causes another orgasm from the teacher. The two pairs of bouncing mounds tempt you, and you have to pull out to blow a heavy load on Eunbi’s breasts. 

All three of you are moaning and sighing together, creating an unholy choir of sin that the school choir would find repugnant. Eunbi shivers as Taeyeon lifts herself off her used mouth. Your legs feel like sticks against a heavy wind. You have to grab on the desk for support.

“Did she just squirt?”

Look down at your wet polo shirt and shrug, finding humor at the obvious question and its obvious answer. “I guess so,” you reply.

Taeyeon’s eyes glint with menace. “Make her do it again,” she says.

“What?” you ask, just to make sure you’re hearing her correctly. Now all the humor is gone. She can’t be serious. You don’t know how you’ll make it work. You’re barely coming down from your high, and Eunbi is at the brink of passing out. You can’t give her another orgasm; the two of you are way too spent.

Taeyeon, however, can go for days.

“I said,” Taeyeon grabs Eunbi by the hair and pulls her up, “make her squirt again.”

Eunbi’s tired frame relies on Taeyeon’s to maintain her position of sitting, but she doesn’t need a hand in her hair again to shake her head. She whines in protest when Taeyeon’s fingers play with her pussy again. 

“Mommy, no! I’m too sensitive! You can’t!”

“Fuck her pretty cunt, toy,” Taeyeon whispers in your ear. Her finger, which slides back and forth on Eunbi’s clit, grows stronger and faster. “Teach her to take a good cock. Don’t mind her whimpering. She wants it.”

You’re automatically inclined to follow your teacher’s instructions. So, when you slide into Eunbi’s snug pussy again, she screams in pleasure. She grabs for anything—your hand, a chair—but Taeyeon pins her hands behind her back. They’re messily making out again. Eunbi lets out her moans in the form of greedy, wanton liplocks. Meanwhile, you cry out feral groans watching the two beautiful women kissing. 

Eunbi’s wrists have fought themselves out from Taeyeon’s hand and have led themselves towards the valleys of her teacher’s tits. You're pretty sure she’s done so to finger her, which is proven when Taeyeon gasps and pins her down even more roughly to the table. They touch each other just the way they like it: roughly and unforgivingly. 

Whenever Taeyeon twists Eunbi's nipples, your girlfriend’s cunt clamps protectively around your cock. It’s delicious—it’s difficult to drag it out when all the pleasure from your hands and Taeyeon’s makes her so tight and wet. Taeyeon’s harsh flicks send wet sloppy fluid leaking on the desk. Eunbi’s inexperienced yet somehow skilled fingers drive Taeyeon to hiss and bite down on Eunbi's full lower lip. 

“Oppa, mommy’s too good,” Eunbi mumbles weakly. Her legs shake. “And mommy, oppa’s cock is so big. It fills me so well.” 

“I know, baby. You’re taking him like a good girl.” 

Giving Eunbi one last kiss, Taeyeon scoots over to you. She’s unimpressed; her arms cross, one over the other, below her killer breasts. “How are you going to make her squirt if you can’t fuck her fast?” she asks.

“I’m sorry, professor.”

“And from the boyfriend of a top student, too. You’d think she at least taught you something. Pull out. Now. Somebody needs to teach your girl a lesson.”

You’re actually glad to be able to stop. Eunbi moans at your hard cock leaving her hole, but she screams again—this time because of Taeyeon spanking her cunt.

“Mommy! Mommy, no—mommy!”

“Dumb little girl,” snarls Taeyeon. Her hand makes several rough landings on Eunbi's cunt over and over with little time to recover. You're horrified. “Aren’t you a valedictorian, Kwon Eunbi? You should know better and teach this no-good delinquent to fuck you properly. Do you even remember your classes?”

“Mommy!” Eunbi sobs. Her hips flinch and retract from Taeyeon's hand. “Hurts!”

The girl yelps and whines, but you can see her biting her lip as she watches the teacher punish her. It took your teacher risking her job and literally slapping your girlfriend's vagina for you to realize this: your girlfriend is a freak. 

“You like how it makes you cry, don’t you?” asks Taeyeon. She slaps the wet folds until the skin around it is red. “Fucking pain slut.”

“Hurts, hurts, hurts! G-gonna cum again, mommy, please stop, you’re going to make me cum, haaah!”

Eunbi squirms and wails, jutting her legs out while she cums again. In the end, Taeyeon gets what she wanted: a spray of fluids from Eunbi’s pussy. She rubs her nub to prompt more of her squirting. The younger girl’s lower body jerks and moves away, but Taeyeon’s hand always finds her clit again.

“It took spanking to get you to squirt?” the teacher asks, slightly amused.

Eunbi can do nothing but sob and nod. What else is she supposed to do? She looks more tired now than she was post-game. Her naked, beautiful body’s wet and used beyond limit. “Mommy… I’m tired,” she says. “Please.”

“Take your time, angel.” Taeyeon slides Eunbi’s glasses back on her face. Behind the lens, her eyelids barely make it past her brown irises. “You were such a good girl for mommy today.” 

Eunbi nods appreciatively. She nuzzles into Taeyeon’s hand. Her whole body feels like it’s going to break anytime soon. 

Taeyeon turns to you with a dangerous look in her eyes. That’s how you know she’s not done, at least with you. She still hasn’t had her load, and she’s not leaving without it.

“Now let’s see,” she says, slowly, walking over to you with her shapely hips swaying, “if your little boyfriend can be a good boy.”

You gulp. You’re in for a long ride.

-

“You sure you can handle me, professor?” you ask. You’re being a hotshot again, you know that, but it’s the only way you know how to deal with nervousness. 

You’re gliding her hand across her thighs, taking pleasure in this stalling that benefits you in more ways than one. In doing this, you get to touch Taeyeon’s slim, sensitive thighs, and toy with her prepared pussy.

Taeyeon’s shivering breath is the only indication of her pleasure. Her face remains stoic, almost offending, as she sits on the desk. Her clothes are anywhere but on her body. It’s not like you mind.

“I’d ask you that same question,” she says. She knows how to keep her guard up enough to make you red with humiliation. “But it seems like I know the answer already.”

Pinch her pink nipples. You’re copying Taeyeon’s way of letting her feelings manifest in her little actions and ways, hence the harsh squeeze of your fingers on the nubs. Eunbi watches on with anticipation, searching for the right scene to repeat in her mind to reach her climax. She’s whimpering quietly.

Taeyeon’s slandering you, you know it. It just so happens she does so incredibly sexily. Finding her deserving of a good fucking, line up your cock with her entrance and rub yourself on her lips. Your tip rubs her clit repeatedly. 

“Which is?” you ask innocently.

Taeyeon’s breaths are short. “You’re too scared to fuck me,” she says, with no less confidence. In a way, she’s correct, but not for long. “Mmm, you’re scared of what would happen if you get to it and breed me. Your life would be over, you know that, and you’d ruin your girlfriend’s potential to excel.”

Sarcastically: “Am I?” 

“Ohh, oh, yes, you are.” It’s a nice save from her. “And that’s not all there is to it, isn’t it? You’re scared of me. What’s promising I won’t tell anyone of what we did? That’s right: nothing, and that’s what scares you. It scares your delinquent ass more than you’d like.”

The table creaks backwards. Taeyeon moans.

You steadily thrust in her, reminding yourself not to be gentle as you would to Eunbi in lighter situations. No, your slut of a teacher deserves to be pounded. If she had to resort to her students to get a good fuck, she might as well get it.

“Am I still scared, professor?” you ask.

Taeyeon’s pussy is as good as the first time you entered her. But now it’s obvious she’s so much more turned on; her pussy grips your cock in any way but gently. Her tits start to bounce again. 

“M-maybe,” she weakly gasps out. “With how small your dick is, I’d see why you are.”

Although her lie is clear, it sends a blow to your ego. You force her folds to welcome and swallow more frequent thrusts. Taeyeon is whining; or is that Eunbi you’re hearing?

Take a look at Eunbi and see that her legs, just like her teacher’s, are wide open. She’s rubbing herself while squeezing one boob in her hand. Her moans mix in with Taeyeon’s as she watches the two of you go at it. Needless to day, she’s enjoying the view.

Minutes later, you’ve got Taeyeon sprawled out even more on the table (if that were possible), with a tired Eunbi still kneeling at her side, as you fuck your teacher’s cunt to the point of oblivion. Your cock still drips with semen and precum from the previous sessions, but your desire to keep fucking Taeyeon’s tight, perfect pussy keeps you going. It’s the defiance, the sheer fucking will to go on that prevents you from passing out.

“I think it’s your thing, professor," you whisper in her ear, shedding the honorifics for just this time. “Fucking a pretty little high school student because you know she's curious, and being railed to shit by some delinquent. This cock—”

—Taeyeon gasps when you sharply thrust inside her— 

“—and this pretty face—” 

—Grasp Eunbi’s face in between careless, rough fingers; she whines pitifully— 

“That’s what gets you off, right?” you ask. “Because you know it’s messed up: how good it feels being ruined by some boy who should be a nightmare but is instead the guy who can give you a good dicking-down. It just isn’t right, is it, Kim Taeyeon?” 

“Oh, oh my god,” Taeyeon rasps. Her eyes are wide. You've just stripped her feelings out for her, one by one, while you rail away at her mercilessly. Her face is red; she's humiliated, nonetheless, but she's turned on. So fucking turned on. 

“So cum for me, mommy.” Speed up your thrusts, grab her bouncing tits before dragging your hand up to her throat. There, you squeeze. “Cum like you want me.” 

And cum she does. Taeyeon lets out a feral scream, squirming and struggling on the table. Eunbi, who was touching herself to you and Taeyeon fucking, crawls over and seals her lips around Taeyeon's clit, catching the squirt she expels. Taeyeon propels herself forward, causing your cock to bury itself deeper inside her and Eunbi's mouth to take more and more of her pussy. 

“Yes, yes, yes, good boy! Fuck me, fuck me like I’m a whore!” Taeyeon cries. Her beautiful face is stretched and scrunched into an expression of pleasure. Her hips never stop going crazy at the doubled pleasure. “Keep sucking my clit like that, Eunbi-ya; yes, that’s a good girl, yes yes yes please—!”

Eunbi squeezes Taeyeon’s breasts and thighs while you release inside her. It goes against what she taught in multiple classes: safe sex, use of condoms, all that, but you want to continue feeling the beautiful wet walls close in on your cock, like it doesn’t want you to leave her hole. 

And if you could, you won’t. But the human body has limits, and it can’t take non-stop sex unless your stamina’s like one of the school athletes. So, you can do nothing but welcome the  darkness that covers your line of vision.

In the absence of light, darkness prevails.

-

The classroom is a mess. White fluid that’s definitely not Elmer’s glue coats the wooden teacher’s desk. You think you’ve broken one of the table’s legs. The floor needs to be mopped with how much of Eunbi’s squirt has sprayed on its tiles.

But you don’t worry about that. Not now, when Taeyeon lovingly takes care of your tired post-sex bodies. She’s dressed now, and although her messy hair and pants indicate a recent frisky session, you don’t suppose anyone would think that. 

 Through it all, you’re still students Taeyeon cares for.

“My good girl, and my good boy,” she says softly. She might be harsh, but her love is real. She buttons Eunbi’s uniform, kisses her, then kisses your forehead. She’s still trying to find her lost breath, but she’s smiling. She’s smiling despite the messed up morality of the situation as a whole, despite your body looking ragged after multiple climaxes and Eunbi’s body and breasts being marked with her own slaps. If she were asked, she’d do it all again. 

“You’ll still be around to please mommy later, won’t you?” 

Just like that, she’s put a mark on the two of you. You’re hers and no one else’s from this day forward, and you can’t decide what to feel about it. You had no idea how to react during this whole sex frenzy, but you think that vulnerable, helpless feeling is exactly what makes you smile. The feeling of having someone dominate you, claim you, own you, especially from someone who shouldn’t be. 

God, you’re a mess. You’re fucked up. Taeyeon is fucked up. And, in her own little way, Eunbi herself is fucked up, too, but that’s exactly why you have each other.

-

Someday you’ll look back at all this. You’ll go over everything—meeting Eunbi, being her boyfriend, the whole fiasco with Taeyeon, all of it—and perhaps you'll laugh a little too. All of it is absurd, and is that of a plot straight out of a pornography video. To think it might happen to you, a guy who’s barely above average, would be the main cause of your reminiscent laughter.

They say high school days are wild. You find that to be true; you just bred your sex ed professor, called her mommy and made out with her while she rode your girlfriend’s face. To add to that, your first intimate encounter with Eunbi was raunchy, wild sex. And you sit in the classroom, with her leaning against your shoulder, attending another class as if nothing happened. Halfway through a biology quiz, Taeyeon enters. You don’t know if your eyes were just teasing you, but she winks at you as she leaves. It’s a wink that says don’t get too carried away, toy; we’re not done yet.

[blue-slxt]

Part of The Family

*Request: would u write for Tonowari? 😊*

So I’ve never written for Tonowari cuz it was super intimidating for me, but I tried my best with this one. Sorry if it’s a little short, but I tried😭 I hope you still like it. I legit pulled this premise out of my ass. All characters are of age.

🔞Minors Do Not Interact🔞

Smut under the cut.

Nothing about this situation made sense to you. It was not unusual for the Metkayina to take several different partners. That wasn’t the confusing part. The confusing part was why the olo’eyktan would choose you as one of his. Everyone had assumed that Ronal would be his only partner especially since she carried herself with such confidence, it seemed like she would surely intimidate anyone that dared to get close.

It was a great honor, but you still didn’t quite understand why you of all people had been chosen. You readjust your clothing standing outside the entrance of their marui feeling your nerves eat you alive. You got dressed in your favorite outfit hoping to make a good impression. One more breath to steady your heart and you step inside.

Inside, there is an assortment of different fruits spread out and Ronal is inside with Tonowari. You sign your greeting to them both, “oel ngati kameie olo’eyktan, tsahik.” They smile warmly at you while Ronal approaches you.

“No need to be so formal. You are a part of the family now. Come, sit.” She leads you to the food and has you take a seat. You fidget in your spot not really being used to this softer side of her. Tonowari takes a seat in front of you.

“I am glad you chose to accept my offer.”

“Well, it is such an honor.” You say. Your body language is still tense and they can sense it. Tonowari gives Ronal a look and she nods at him understanding without any words. She picks up a piece of fruit and holds it to your lips. “Here, eat.” “Oh, thank you.” You open up and she places the piece into your mouth and you try to not think about the sensual way she holds her finger in your mouth when you close your lips. She pulls her finger out and hums in response.

“I understand that you are nervous, but please believe that I will be as gentle as I can with you.” Tonowari speaks gently to you. His build is mighty even for Metkayina, but he has very kind eyes and he his tone is soft. He can be commanding and stern when he needs to be, but right now, he comes across very docile.

Your cheeks get hot thinking about what is going to happen. “It’s just a little bit of an adjustment. Is it okay if I ask a question?” your head reflexively lowers feeling shy. Ronal uses her finger to lift your chin to face him. “Head high.”

“You may ask whatever you like.” “Why did you choose me?” Your voice is small and timid fearing you may offend them, but they both just smile at you.

“Well, there are a number of reasons” he starts.

“You are beautiful” Ronal continues next to you turning your face to look at her.

“You have a kind heart” Tonowari carries on as he moves closer to you.

“You are good with the children of the clan” Ronal rseumes.

“You are perfect.” Tonowari was now in front of you holding his face just inches in front of yours.

Your breathing gets heavy and your chest feels hot. “I think that now is probably a good time to make it official.” You swallow hard and just nod your head looking up at his eyes even though his were fixed on your lips.

He looks at Ronal and gives her a nod. She rises from her spot and takes her leave. “I will return once it is finished.”

The gravity of the situation finally settles in your core being left alone with Tonowari.

“We will need to properly prepare you before we begin. Lay back.” His hand pushes you lightly to lay on your back. He hooks his finger in your waistband and shimmies your loincloth down your legs. He gently spreads your legs open and the air feels cool against your heat, but your face is on fire. No one has ever seen this part of you and now your clan leader was staring it down intently.

You’re so lost in your own thoughts that you don’t even notice when he sinks his head down between your legs and swipes at your core with his tongue. “Ah!” the sound jumps from your mouth without any thought.

He keeps lapping at your clenching hole while it overflows with arousal. He looks up to watch your face and it feels so indecent, but it makes your body buzz with desire. His hands hold onto your thighs to keep them spread while he feasts on you. He gathers some of your slick on one of his fingers and traces it lightly around your entrance. He probes at your hole with the tip of his finger before pushing forward just to the first knuckle. The feeling is startling and your legs try to close, but he keeps them spread.

“Relax for me, tanhì.” His voice is soothing. You close your eyes and take deep breaths to hopefully calm your body. He pushes in as you breathe out. The feeling is unlike anything you’ve ever felt. You’re not even sure how to describe the feeling in your own mind. It’s uncomfortable at first, but then it feels like electricity. Before you know it, his finger is all the way inside of you. He slowly moves his hand in and out while he still sucks on your swollen clit.

Once your walls relax around his digit, he adds another. His fingers are so big, but the way they curl up inside of you has your head spinning and there’s a building tension in your core.

“Ah, Tonowari, s-something is happening!”

“Good. Let it happen. Just let go for me, little one. Let me take care of you.” Every word he breathes intensifies the tension in your core until it explodes with the force of a bomb. Your body trembles and he continues to finger fuck you through your release.

Finally, your body stops shaking and he sits up pulling his fingers out of you. He watches as your body shudders with the aftershock of your orgasm.

“I think you are ready for the real thing.”

Your breath gets caught in your throat when he lets his loincloth fall to the ground. He’s massive. You were almost positive that you weren’t going to be able to use your legs for quite some time.

[bradshawssugarbaby]

The Coronado Story - Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

summary: Your marriage to Bradley was fraught with issues -- you married far too young to a man who was far too immature. Several years have passed, and now, you're engaged to the perfect gentleman. Everything is going wonderfully in the days leading up to your wedding - until Bradley reappears into your life.

A/N: this is an AU fic I've been wanting to write for a really long time, based loosely on the plot of one of my all-time favourite movies, The Philadelphia Story. I was really nervous about this one because it's the longest fic I've ever written, and it's completely self-indulgent, but I love it.

pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader / Bob Floyd x Reader / Bradley Bradshaw x Reader / Bob Floyd x OC (sort of?)

warnings/content: divorce, mentions of children, affairs/cheating (briefly mentioned), Bradley being a shitty husband, heartbreak, angst, fluff, love triangles, female reader but no description (I think?), named side OC side characters.

word count: 9.2k

The time to make up your mind about people is never.

As the morning sunlight poured in through the bay window of your bedroom, you squinted and groaned, covering your eyes with your comforter, refusing to get up and out of bed at this hour. Turning to face your alarm clock, you were dismayed to see that it was only just 7 AM, far too early for any normal person to be awake and functioning as of yet. You knew that your definition of normal was skewed - you were sheltered your whole life, the only controversy you’d ever faced was your divorce from your ex-husband, Bradley Bradshaw that took place eight years prior, and even then, it was only scandalous for the reasoning behind it. 

You and Bradley were simply young, dumb and in love - the biggest mistake anyone could make, in your mind. No sane person would get married under those circumstances, you were sure of it, and certainly not when they’ve only known their spouse for six months - but you and Bradley were anything but sane when it came to one another. 

Smitten and head over heels in love, unable to focus on anything outside of one another - you were crazy for him, and he was crazy for you. However, the romance was fleeting, and no sooner than it had burned strong and bright, did the fire fizzle out on you both. Your marriage lasted all of 12 months, no children produced as a result, and nothing to show for it other than a piece of paper and a simple surname change on your part. 

In fact, children were one of the sore spots in your relationship - while you wanted them, sooner rather than later, Bradley was unconvinced. Having been orphaned by his sixteenth birthday, and now serving as an aviator in the US Navy, Bradley wasn’t sure how to be a parent. He was barely sure about marriage for that matter. He wanted it - he wanted it with you more than anything, he thought - but when it came down to it, he got scared. Terrified of leaving behind a family the same way his dad had when he was a toddler. 

Bradley hadn’t even been toilet trained when his father died - his memories of him were whatever was relayed to him through stories from his mother and his father’s friends, news clippings from his time in the Navy and his medals and ribbons received during his service. Otherwise? The man was a stranger to him, and that was something that scared Bradley more than anything. However much you loved him, you couldn’t stay in a marriage that had no future, and Bradley felt the same. Bradley had enjoyed partying and having fun far more than being a husband, and it showed.

Your phone buzzed on your nightstand, and you held your breath, hoping and praying it was just a text message that you could easily ignore and respond to later. However, it continued to ring, spasming against the hard wooden top of the table, causing more noise than necessary. You sleepily extended your arm out to grab it, cursing under your breath at whoever in their right mind would call you this early in the morning. That was, until you saw the caller ID, and realized it was your new beau, Jake.

“Good mornin’ beautiful!” Jake drawled out, his Texan accent thick and velvety smooth as he spoke. 

“Good morning,” you hummed sleepily, rubbing your eye with one of your hands before letting out a yawn and sighing. 

“Sorry, honey, did I wake you?” 

“Mhmm? No, no, I was already getting up.”

“Listen, baby, I just wanted to call and say I can’t wait to marry you. You’re the love of my life, you know that?”

“I think you may have mentioned it once or twice.”

“Good, I’m not gonna stop mentioning it to you.”

You shook your head and giggled softly, a happy sigh escaping your lips as you thought about your upcoming nuptials to Jake. You were going to be Mrs. Jake Seresin in a matter of days - hours in fact - and you were excited to finally move on from your time as Mrs. Bradley Bradshaw, a chapter of your life that you tried desperately to hide. 

You’d hoped that moving back to your family home in California would help you escape it - your family’s sprawling beachfront home in Coronado, dating back to the 1920s, complete with all the historic art deco era charms and graces, was welcoming and inviting when you returned from your failed marriage in Virginia. 

No sooner than you had moved home did Jake cross your path. Another aviator - a type you’d apparently developed without realizing it - but this time, confident and cocksure, not needing a reminder of your existence, or forgetting how to be in love, never wavering on his stance on your future, or the idea of having children - Jake was, well, perfect. Or as close to perfect as a person could be, anyways. 

With his broad shoulders, Southern charm, piercing green eyes and perfectly styled golden blonde hair, Jake was maybe the most handsome man you’d ever seen. Sure, Bradley was gorgeous - a stark contrast to Jake’s perfect appearance, with dark curly hair, sunkissed with honey coloured highlights scattered throughout, amber coloured eyes that changed depending on his mood, and a neatly trimmed mustache that looked fresh out of 1984 - but he was no Jake. No one was Jake. 

“I’ll be home from this mission soon enough, ok darlin’? Then I’ll come runnin’ right over there to marry your pretty little self.” “I expect nothing less, Lieutenant Seresin. In full dress whites, too, I hope.”

“Of course, nothing but the best for my girl.”

My girl. The way he said it felt so melodic, so beautiful. Bradley had called you that once in a while, and at first when Jake did, it stung. You’d almost convinced yourself not to let him use it as his term of affection for you because of it, yet, the way he said it was so different. You felt compelled to let him continue using it. Now, it only made you think of Bradley occasionally, a slight twinge of melancholy when you heard it, but nothing enough to trigger an unwanted memory or feeling of longing for your ex- husband. 

After your conversation with Jake, you took your time getting dressed, paying special attention to your hair as you got ready for the day. You wanted everything to be perfect - your wedding wasn’t for another two days, but you couldn’t help but stress over every minute detail. If you didn’t take care of preserving your hair’s silky smooth feeling today, you’d run the risk of compromising it’s styling ability in two days - a risk you couldn’t afford to take. Not when your wedding had become somewhat of a mild celebration in the San Diego Bay area. 

Your family was wealthy, to put it incredibly mildly. Your father had started his own investment firm back in the 1980s, just before meeting your mother, and his success had grown exponentially over the years. He now stood as one of the richest men in the country, and since you were one of only two children - you’d become quite the celebrity as soon as you turned 16. Your sweet sixteen party rivaled those seen on MTV - you’d declined any prodding from your friends to televise your party, your father had assured you that only families who were insecure about their financial situation felt the need to flaunt it so tastelessly on television. 

When you’d met Bradley, he had no idea. You’d moved out to Virginia to get away from your life in California, having been accepted into Old Dominon University, entering into their Journalism studies program. You were looking for something, anything to give you some semblance of normalcy in your early twenties, desperate to feel the same way your friends from high school did about going off to start their higher education and studies. You didn’t like being left out, and college life was no exception. 

It was your second year when Bradley wandered into your life. You opted to hit the beach with a couple of friends, making the half-hour drive out to Virginia Beach to sunbathe and enjoy the seasonably warm spring that had descended upon you. There, he caught your eye. 

He was tall and lean, broad shouldered and wearing tight-fitting denim shorts that sat low on his hips, showing off his sleek, toned abdomen. His skin was olive-toned, you could tell he spent a lot of time at the beach, and without a shirt. He looked to be a few years older than you, but it was almost impossible to tell, he looked like an adonis of sorts. Aviator sunglasses perched just slightly askew on a slightly crooked nose - the signature bump to his nose a tell-tale sign of a previous break, yet somehow, you found it made him even more attractive. A rogue volleyball sent him your way - and his charming smile and sense of humour had you ready to exchange your phone number with him within a matter of seconds. 

Bradley had been stationed at NAS Norfolk, and, like most people, wanted to enjoy his day off away from work. He and a couple of his naval buddies had headed to the beach for the day, similarly to you, and the rest was history. To a 21 year old, the prospect of dating a 32 year old seemed so appealing - so rebellious and thrilling. Bradley was immature for his age, a side effect of growing up way too quickly as a young teenager, needing to care for his mother when she became sick, and doing so until her unfortunate passing four years later. He was only fifteen at the time, and suddenly was left relatively on his own - moving in with his grandmother while he finished high school, but venturing out on his own by the time he reached his eighteenth birthday. 

Your thoughts of your time with Bradley would come and go, especially now as your wedding to Jake approached. It made sense to you, the reminders of a failed marriage encroaching in on you as you prepared for another marriage to begin. You just continued to push them aside, reminding yourself that Jake was not Bradley, and Bradley would never be Jake. They were two completely opposite people - Jake was better at treating you like a princess, the way you were always accustomed to growing up, while Bradley was better at the silly little things, the affectionate kisses stolen whenever no one was around to see, a protective hand on your hip at all times. Jake excelled where Bradley had lacked, but the same could be said the other way around too. Not that you wanted to even think about that. Bradley was the last thing you wanted to think about. 

You bounded down the winding staircase to find your parents seated at the breakfast table, your younger sister, Kylie tucking into a bowl of cereal as she sat next to your empty seat. Your father’s stern expression as he read the paper, something you tried to tell him that no one did anymore since the advent of tablets and e-readers, was a sign to you that he too was stressed. You knew he worried about your marriage to Jake being another waste of money and resources, but this time you were sure, you told yourself. You assured him that history wouldn’t repeat itself. 

“Good morning, darling,” your mother’s voice rang out in a sing-song fashion, “have a good conversation with Jake this morning?”

“We heard you gushing to him over the phone up there,” Kylie quipped, grinning as she spooned some more cereal into her mouth.

“I wasn’t gushing. I was simply returning the affection he was giving.”

“You and Jake make me sick,” Kylie scoffed, shaking her head, “I don’t remember Bradley being this nauseating.”

“Bradley,” you snapped, “wasn’t good at anything when it came to matters of the heart. All he cared about was flying planes and having a good time. What kind of a husband is that?”

“A fun one,” Kylie muttered as she avoided your mother’s death glare. 

“Jake’s wonderful to your sister, Kylie. You know that. He’s just wonderful.”

“Yeah, yeah, the sun shines out of his ass and everything,” your fifteen year old sister piped up, grinning. 

“Mom, please tell me why you decided to give me a sibling when I was 15. I didn’t need it. I was fine being an only child.”

“Will you two just cut it out? You both sound like incessant children,” Your father grumbled as he finished the last dregs of coffee from his cup.

“I gotta go,” Kylie said before standing abruptly and dropping her bowl into the sink with a thud, “Meeting my friends at the ferry port. We’re going shopping for the day.”

Your father nodded his head in approval, an incoherent mumble coming from his direction as he continued to read the paper. Your mother waved Kylie off, smiling as she sent her on her way, as if she’d just dropped her off at school for her first day of kindergarten. The attention then turned back to you, something you were dreading, because it felt like all anyone in your family wanted to talk about anymore to you was…

“I want to talk about Bradley, darling.”

Shit.

“What about him?”

“You should know, we saw him the other day.”

“Oh? How lovely for you.”

“He’s grown into quite the responsible young man.”

“That’s fantastic, mother. Is that why Kylie’s so in love? Tell her to wait three years, I’m sure he’d be open to dating her when she turns eighteen.”

Your mother scolded you almost immediately for your comment, and you had to admit, as soon as it left your mouth, you regretted saying it. In fact, Bradley had been so nervous about the eleven year gap that you and him had shared, that you were almost positive he’d never date someone under thirty now. 

“You’re right, I’m sorry. I’m just on edge.”

“Well, Jake’ll be home soon enough.”

“On our wedding day, yeah. I’ll see him then.”

“Exactly! Bradley wished you well. He said he’s glad you’re happy now.”

“I’m sure he is, Mom.”

You shook your head in disbelief before getting up, setting your unused plate and cup in the sink out of habit. You sighed and grabbed your purse from the hook where it sat by the door, slipping into your shoes.

“I’m going for a walk. I’ll be back.”

“Alright, when you come home we’ll finalize your seating arrangements and the minor details for Saturday!”

You hurried out the door and sighed, taking in a deep breath of the salty ocean breeze as you tried to find some clarity. You hated knowing that Bradley was this close to you, but you knew the odds of seeing him again were close to zero. San Diego was a huge city, and he could be stationed at any number of bases in the area, or none at all. He could be visiting for all you knew. You resolved to not worry about it - whatever Bradley did hadn’t been your business for nearly a decade. He might have been remarried with children by now for all you knew. 

As you headed down the street towards Orange Ave. to check out the shopping district for some retail therapy, you furrowed your brow. Something just didn’t feel right. You couldn’t describe what it was, but something was definitely off. 

Now settled into a booth at the coffee shop in the heart of Coronado, you flipped through your Instagram feed, scrolling past selfie after selfie, accomplishments of your high school and college peers on display with no discretion as to what was shared. So-and-so’s son took their first bowel movement on the potty? It was posted as vital information for anyone interested in her life to know. Your college roommate’s brother’s dog died? Documented for everyone who followed her to see. 

You looked up from your phone when you heard a familiar voice. The voice of someone from your past. You knew that voice anywhere. 

“I’m telling you, she still lives here. I know she does. I checked her social media. If they want me to document her wedding to this poor bastard, I’m going to do it. I’m just going to hate every second of it when I do.”

Bob Floyd, in the flesh. 

Bob had been a classmate of yours at Old Dominion - he was one of the few who entered into the realm of Journalism. His drive and passion for telling the truth was admirable, a quality he always strove to make his best-known trait throughout the four years you’d spent at school together. Bob was sweet towards you, understanding and sympathetic towards your craving for normalcy in a life that was, by most people’s standards, anything but normal. He’d supported your need for an escape from your life in California at the time, which was something you were always grateful to him for. 

“Who lives here?” You piped up, your interest piqued as you overheard Bob’s conversation with his female companion. 

“Hey! Just the gal I was looking for. How have you been?”

“Fine,” you responded bitterly as you sipped your drink, the ice in the plastic cup rattling as your hand moved. 

“I s’pose you overheard all that?”

“I did indeed. I didn’t realize my wedding to Jake was worthy of your attention.”

“It’s not that - I write for a magazine, they sent me here to cover it.”

“They sent you? Despite the fact I’ve requested no media coverage?”

“Your request for no coverage just made a target for you - now everyone wants to cover it. They’re fighting left right and center out there for a chance to even get near the venue. I only got out here because I know the area from when I came to visit that time. And because I follow you on your Instagram. Did you know your posts aren’t all privated?”

“Forgive me for assuming that there was some human decency to be had out there.”

“You studied Journalism. You know better than anyone else that it’s a dying art form.”

“What do you want, Bob?”

“An exclusive story centering on you and your new husband to be, and the luxury of being the only one to cover your wedding. Trust me, I’m the reporter you’d want covering it. I know you already and know how exactly to portray you. And how to avoid a lawsuit for slander or libel, which just becomes messy later down the line.”

You sighed, looking at your cup for a moment before meeting his gaze once again.

“Fine. But only if your little friend here keeps her mouth shut about it outside of a professional scope.”

“Deal,” the brunette standing beside him replied, smiling politely as she nodded her head. You couldn’t help but get the sense that there was more to it than just wanting to advance his career, but you didn’t have time to think about that, or even to care, really.

An hour later, Bob and his female friend, whose name you’d already forgotten, were following you up the marble steps of your family home. You had every intention of living with Jake, as soon as he returned from his deployment. You technically did live with him, but with this most recent shipment out and the memories of your previous marriage flooding back to you, you knew it was in your best interest to stay with your parents for a while, at least until Jake returned home. 

As you headed inside, you heard Kylie babbling from the other room. You could just barely make out the sound of the person she was talking to, the distinct baritone sounds and unique lilt something you know you’ve heard before. Something you’d hoped you’d never have to hear again. 

Bradley.

“What the hell are you doing here?” You spat out angrily, your eyes darting between Kylie and Bradley for some sort of explanation. 

“Your sister invited me,” Bradley shrugged, as if the invitation extended to him by his teenage ex-sister in law was enough of a reason to intrude. 

“Kylie, why the fuck did you invite him?”

“He’s your ex-husband. I thought he should see who you’re marrying now.”

“That’s not how this works, Ky.”

“Listen, I’m just saying, maybe he’d like to meet Jake. Besides, are we really gonna ignore the random guy standing behind you looking like some kind of Clark Kent knockoff?” Kylie quipped, making a vague gesture in Bob’s direction.

“This is Robert Floyd, we went to college together. He’s here to cover the wedding. And…,” you began, once again blanking on the name of his colleague who awkwardly stood in your kitchen, observing the impromptu, uncomfortable reunion.

“Meghan.” She nodded, offering a polite wave, the only non-hostile look currently being exchanged in the room. 

“Right, sorry. Meghan is his colleague. She does the video and photography component to his writing.” 

Kylie raised a skeptic eyebrow as she looked Bob up and down, the lack of trust towards him evident on her face. To Meghan, she gave a sidewards glance, almost as if she was challenging her to ruin the wedding in some way, while also delivering it in the form of an unspoken threat. Bradley cleared his throat as he glanced at you, his amber coloured eyes widened with shock and surprise as he realized what was unfolding in front of him.

“Can I talk to you? In private?” His voice was sheepish and shy as he spoke, a far cry from the Bradley you’d once been married to.

“If you must.”

Bradley excused himself from the group circle that had now formed in your kitchen before politely escorting you into the backyard of your family home. It wasn’t exactly away from prying eyes and eavesdropping friends and sisters, but it offered enough of a shield that Kylie couldn’t interject her own opinions and thoughts into the conversation, as she so often liked to do. 

“What’s his name?”

“Jake.” 

“Last name?”

“What does it matter to you?”

“Just answer.”

“No?”

“Is it Seresin?”

“Why, Bradley? So what if it is?”

Bradley lets out an exhausted sigh, a hint of something that you’d swear was disappointment if you didn’t know any better was evident on his face as he shook his head.

“I know him.”

“Ok, and?”

“You don’t understand. I’m his commanding.”

“Ok…and?”

“So, every time he gets sent off somewhere, you’re going to have one more reason to hate me.”

“I don’t need any more reasons, Bradley. Believe me, our one year of marriage provided me with plenty.”

Bradley rolled his eyes, shaking his head with another sigh before looking up towards the sky. The southern Californian sunshine cascading down on him, creating a halo-like glow over his sun-kissed face. His hair had the slightest hint of age to it, the odd whitish-grey hair scattered throughout his curls, which were considerably less noticeable than they once were. A handful of scars dotted his face, a couple of varying slashes across his chin, neck and cheek, as well as one on his nose, just below the characteristic bump that you’d noticed that first day you met him. He’d aged remarkably well for someone that was fast approaching his fortieth birthday at the end of the month. 

“I never wanted you to hate me, ok?”

“Oh? You did it without even trying then, congratulations.”

“Look, can’t I just be supportive of you and happy for you without an ulterior motive?”

“No. I don’t believe you can.” 

You shook your head furiously before laughing in pure disbelief at what was taking place. Your wedding was in approximately thirty-six hours now, and you felt as though with the return of both Bob and Bradley into your life, everything was beginning to unravel around you, coming undone with every passing second.

“Honey! I’m home!” 

Jake’s cheerful Texas drawl echoed throughout the house. You rounded the staircase, running so fast down the stairs that you were sure you’d fall and land on your ass on your way down if you weren’t careful. You practically leapt into his arms, enveloping him in a hug as he held you tightly, hugging you close. You smiled as you breathed in his scent, using Jake’s presence to drown out any memory or feeling you may have felt for Bradley come creeping back on you.

“You’re early!” 

“I managed to get home a little sooner than anticipated. I still expect you to stay put right here though. Bad luck to see my bride on the wedding day, you know.”

“Please, no one believes in that anymore.” 

“I sure do! I’m not taking any chances, darlin’,” Jake said as he gently pressed his lips to your cheek, his kiss soft and sweet as his lips lingered on your skin.

Bob emerged from the living room, a broad smile on his face as he pushed his glasses up further on his nose, a pen tucked behind his ear neatly. His baby blue polo shirt was perfectly pressed, paired with a neat pair of khaki coloured pants, a look that screamed professional, but also golf course appropriate. He essentially fit in perfect with the other non-military men on Coronado - the wealthy, put-together, business men who spent Fridays out of the home office and out on the golf course, forwarding their calls to an answering machine or their secretary.

“You must be the infamous Lieutenant Seresin, I’m Bob, I’ve been sent by StarGaze to cover the wedding. It’s basically all anyone on social media is talking about,” Bob extended his hand to Jake, offering a firm handshake as he introduced himself.

“Please, call me Jake. I’m only Lieutenant Seresin if I’m in trouble for somethin’, I’m Jacob even less often, my mama only calls me that if I’ve well and truly fucked up. I’ve been Jake my entire life.”

“Right, Jake. Got it.” 

“You two know one another already?” Jake quizzed, raising an eyebrow at how at ease you were around Bob, and at the fact Bob was already in your parents’ house, getting to know your wedding and it’s surrounding background information.

“We went to Old Dominon together.”

“Oh, classmates! Got it. Listen, you don’t mind if I steal her for a sec, do ya? You see, Bob, I haven’t seen my girl here in close to three months. I missed her.”

“Of course not,” Bob offered his hands up in reassurance, “I completely understand. I have some more questions for the bride’s family anyways. Nice meeting you.”

“Nice to meet ya too!” Jake nodded as Bob walked off, gesturing behind him towards Bob with his thumb, “He seems nice, babe.”

“I don’t trust his motives.”

“Now, how come? Not everyone’s out to ruin the big day, darlin’. Maybe just Kylie, but I think her heart’s in the right place. She just doesn’t think I’m good enough for her big sister. And I don’t blame her. I don’t think I’m good enough for her big sister either. But thank the good Lord, Kylie and I are wrong, right?”

“Right,” you agreed with a half-hearted chuckle.

“That’s my girl.”

This time, when Jake called you his girl, you didn’t get the butterflies in your stomach like you usually did. You felt a sting of sadness come over you, as if you were disappointed that you were his girl. Or at least, that part of you was. You tried your best to shove those thoughts aside, chalking it up to the trauma response of seeing Bradley again for the first time in eight years, the whole event sending you into some kind of mental tailspin that you were struggling to pull yourself out of. 

The morning carried on as usual - breakfast at the table as a family, now joined by Jake, Bob and Meghan, with awkward, uncomfortable shifting glances whenever Bradley was mentioned by name. You noticed that Meghan continued to gaze at Bob, long after he’d finished a thought, as if she hung on every syllable of each word that came out of him. You observed how she stole glances at him every few seconds, a look of loving, longingness in her eyes. You could tell that to her, Bob was the only thing that mattered. 

In the garden, after breakfast, you took it upon yourself to head to the venue of your wedding - Hotel Del Coronado, one of the most historic, iconic landmarks in the area, and arguably, in the Southern half of the state. Your entourage of sorts - your mother, Kylie, Bob, Meghan and Jake, followed along with you, each planning to take on a different role when you arrived there. You and Jake planned to oversee the layout of the chairs for the seating plan, ensuring everything was in the correct place, while your mother followed behinded with placecards, neatly folded with each guest’s name embossed in golden script on off-white cardstock. 

Bob made a few notes on his phone, typing furiously whenever he saw something that piqued his interest, while Meghan snapped photos of varying aspects of the day - photos of you and Jake, photos of the placecards, the decorations, the seating plan - anything and everything that could be of use. At this point you almost wondered why your parents were paying for a photographer at all, when Meghan was clearly going to fit the bill without payment from your parents - all for a magazine spread that would go on for a maximum of six pages.

You furrowed your brow as you noticed Kylie approaching Bob, speaking in hushed tones as she looked in your direction, as if she wanted to make you nervous. You didn’t trust your younger sister to stop meddling in your relationships - you were happy with Jake. You were comfortable with Jake. You didn’t want to even entertain the idea of someone else at this point. Jake was it. He was your end game. You were sure of it.

That was, until, Bradley had wandered back into your life yesterday. As much as you hated him, loathed him, in fact, something kept nagging at you. Almost as if it was some part of you trying to reel you back into him. Demanding you to leave Jake before you married him, telling you to give Bradley another chance. You scoffed at the notion - there was no way in hell you’d give Bradley Bradshaw a second chance. He didn’t deserve it. 

Taking a deep breath, you turned to refocus your attention back to the wedding plans that were underway. Jake gave you a soft smile of reassurance, as if he sensed some sort of apprehension on your face as he watched you. Giving your hand a gentle squeeze - God, his hands were able to practically swallow yours whole, making you feel an overwhelming sense of protection - Jake led you towards the head table. He turned you to face the rest of the room, the way you’ll be seated in just 24 hours.

“Well, Darlin’, does this look alright to you?” He pondered, his accent thick as honey as he spoke.

“Yeah, looks good to me,” you started, before something at the back corner of the room caught your eye.

Jake approached Bradley, his eyebrows raised in a mixture of surprise and delight, almost honored that his commanding officer had come to wish him well the day before his impending nuptials. Jake’s grin broadened as he approached, his arms spread wide in a gesture of pleased disbelief as he saw him. 

“Captain Bradshaw? What are you doing here, sir?”

Captain? 

“Oh, I just wanted to come by and wish you all well,” Bradley started, a hint of anxiety in his normally calm, cool and collected composure.

“Well, thank you, sir, we appreciate it!” Jake said as a smile broader than the San Diego Bay appeared on his face, “Where are my manners? This is my beautiful fiancée, and darlin’, this is Captain Bradley Bradshaw, callsign,”

“Rooster,” you interrupted, finishing Jake’s sentence.

“Y’all know each other already?”

“Sort of, yeah. Only met briefly a few times. We lived near one another in Virginia, partied in similar circles, that kinda thing.”

“Yeah, something like that,” Bradley said, trying not to appear crestfallen as you brushed your history together off so easily. 

Jake, ever the crowd-pleaser, but not always the most perceptive of men, smiled, seemingly unaware of the awkward tension that now brewed between you and Bradley. Bob, noticing Bradley’s presence, approached, offering a polite smile, as if he was certain there was no way your ex would possibly remember him, trying to provide gentle distraction from the uncomfortable atmosphere that was now brewing.

“Lieutenant Seresin, could I steal you for a minute? I have a few questions for you about the wedding and would like to get them out of the way now before things become too…chaotic, so to speak.”

“Of course, you alright with that, honey?” Jake said, looking to you for approval.

“Mhmm, go ahead, I’ll be here.”

“I’ll keep her company,” Bradley nodded simply, trying to mask any excitement he might have at the prospect of spending time alone with you. 

Once Jake and Bob had disappeared from earshot, you noticed that your mother and Kylie had gone outside for a coffee break, while Meghan was preoccupied with finding the perfect lighting to capture the romance of the room, fiddling with the drapery and curtains just so to find the balance of sunlight she wanted. You let out a sharp exhale before grabbing Bradley by the collar of his khaki coloured uniform, dragging him off to a secluded corner. Bradley’s eyebrows raised as he smirked at you, giving an uncomfortable chuckle as he watched your cheeks burn red in frustration.

“You’re still cute when you’re frustrated, you know.”

“Shut up. Why the hell are you here, Bradshaw?”

“I wanted to wish Jake good luck on being married to you. Believe me, he’ll need it,” Bradley fired back, a wicked grin forming from his plump lips, “Although, clearly he has no idea.”

“And I’d like to keep it that way, Lieutenant.”

“It’s Captain, actually. I got two promotions while we were apart. I actually could be aiming for Rear Admiral by the end of the year the way I’m going.”

“Congratu-fucking-lations. Should I be dropping my panties for you now?”

“Actually, I-”

“I was being sarcastic. You can get fucked, Bradley. Get lost.”

“If you’d let me finish-”

“Funny, I seem to remember you doing that in about three seconds before. Surprised you haven’t finished yet.”

“You’re such a stubborn bitch, you know that?” Bradley quipped, shaking his head as he threw his hands up in exasperation at you.

“Fuck you.”

“Listen, I came to say I was sorry.”

“You’re what?”

“Sorry. I owe you an apology for how I was as a husband. I hope Jake treats you better than I did.”

“He does, thank you.”

“Kylie told me he wasn’t right for you, I was worried you were going to get yourself hurt again. I’m glad I was wrong.”

“Why the fuck are you listening to anything my fifteen year old sister has to say?”

“Because, like it or not, she was sort of the little sister I never had. You seem to forget I was an only child who was orphaned by the time I was her age. You and your family were the only thing closest to a family I’ve ever had, and I fucked it up.”

“That’s an understatement.”

“Well, at least we have that we can agree on.”

Bradley shook his head in frustration and heaved a heavy sigh, looking down at his feet. In this moment, you didn’t see the asshole of an ex-husband that you hated for treating you like an afterthought at every moment. Instead in his place stood the vulnerable aviator you’d fallen in love with - sweet and sensitive, trying to find humour in an otherwise awful situation. His  caramel toned eyes looked to you as if asking for forgiveness, but there was something else about the way he looked at you. 

It was the same way Jake did. Full of love and adoration, admiring everything he saw before him in you. You held your hand up against Bradley’s chest to create space between you both. You couldn’t do this. You couldn’t break Jake’s heart like this, and you couldn’t let anything grow between you and Bradley - there was no way. Bradley’s heartbroken stare was all it took for you to leave the room in a hurry, fighting off the tears that now threatened to fall from your eyes.

You ran out of the hotel, making it to the solace and serenity of the beach. You sat on the sand, hugging your knees to your chest as you sobbed, unable to hold up the front you’d created anymore. You couldn’t bear it any longer. Jake was perfect. He was everything you’d ever wanted Bradley to be. But Bradley was Bradley.

Bradley was that perfectly imperfect, impossible to live with because he drove you crazy, asshole. You hated that you still loved him, but you knew part of why you hated him was because you never stopped. Part of you always hoped he’d come after you when you filed for divorce, trying to win you over and get you to call it off. It never happened, but you could only hope that it didn’t happen because you’d made it clear to him that you didn’t want him - a lie that you told yourself to feel better about your world coming crashing down when you were still so young. 

“Are you ok? You ran out of there like your ass was on fire.”

You quickly wiped your eyes with the back of your hand and looked up to see Bob standing beside you. He sat down next to you, gently placing a hand on your shoulder as he sighed softly. His sapphire-blue eyes looked at you, full of concern and worry for the person he once considered his close friend. 

“Bradley left just about as fast as you did. Thankfully I’m the only one who saw. Other than maybe Meghan.”

“God, I just, I’m so, stupid. What am I doing?”

“You mean why are you marrying Jake when Bradley’s clearly still in love with you?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“On Bradley’s part? Absolutely. Jake’s not too smart if he hasn’t figured that one out yet.”

“He won’t say anything even if he has. He’s too nice. He’s…he’s perfect.”

“You’re saying that as if it’s a bad thing.”

“It might be? I mean, I think he expects me to be perfect. I think he thinks I’m some angel who’s been Heaven sent to him. I don’t think he knows anything about me.”

“Is that his fault though?”

“No. I haven’t been entirely…honest?”

“You mean he doesn’t know you were married before?”

“Well, he thinks it was an engagement. Doesn’t know it was Bradley.”

“Right,” Bob sighed, shaking his head, “And you think Jake would be upset if he found out?”

“I think he’d pretend he was fine and just let it go but it would always eat away at him.”

“And you think he wouldn’t love you anymore if you told him the truth?”

“I think…I think he would struggle through it.”

“Can I be honest?”

“Please,” you nodded slowly, sniffling as you hoped Bob could provide you with the sense of clarity you so desperately needed right now.

“If you’re that worried about it, Jake isn’t right for you. He’d love you anyways. Unconditionally. Isn’t that what this whole marriage thing is about anyway?”

You sat silently as your mind raced, going over what Bob had just shared with you. You shook your head adamantly and sighed. 

“I can’t break his heart.”

“Then you need to break Bradley’s. You can’t let Bradley keep coming back in.”

“It really has to be one or the other, doesn’t it?”

“‘Fraid so, unless you want the unexpected third option.”

“The what?”, you blinked slowly at Bob, the confusion evident on your face as you slowly raised your eyebrows, “Oh God, not you too, Bob.”

Bob sheepishly laughed, raising his hand in a wave of surrender towards you.

“Seriously?”

“Since college, yeah. I was over it, but then when I saw you again yesterday, it all came flooding back, and…I mean, I know all there is to know about you, and it didn’t scare me off. That counts for something, right?”

“Bobby, I can’t.”

Bob shook his head and sighed softly, He looked behind him, ensuring no one was around to see before placing his hand on your cheek. He gently brushed your hair back off your shoulder, stroking your soft skin as he spoke, his voice just above a whisper. 

“You’re wonderful. You know that? You might be a stubborn pain in the ass who can’t make up her mind about what she wants in life, and you might be in the perfect position to break three men’s hearts tomorrow morning, but I think you’re wonderful anyway.”

Bob’s words were enough to make your head spin, trying to wrap itself around the idea of Bob being unconditionally in love with you. You weren’t sure what you were going to do at this point. That was, until you felt Bob’s lips press against yours in the gentlest, most tender kiss you’d ever received. Your eyes fluttered closed as you kissed him, returning the sweet gentleness he’d given to you. As he pulled away, you bit your bottom lip and shook your head, tears welling in your eyes, threatening to cascade over your cheeks.

“Bobby, I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok,” he shook his head, laughing slightly to himself as he looked up at you, his deep blue eyes now wet with his own tears. “It was worth a shot, right?”

“You know, I know someone who’d probably be over the moon if you kissed her the way you just kissed me. I can tell by the way she looks at you, it’s…it’s as if you’re the only person in the world who matters.”

“Who?”

“Meghan. She hasn’t been able to take her eyes off you since I met her yesterday. Every time I see her, she’s stealing glances at you and looking to you, hanging on your every word as if you’re the most important person in the world. I think you’d make her really happy. And, I think she’d make you really happy too.”

Bob nodded slowly, looking back towards the hotel. He let out another sigh and raised his eyebrow, chuckling to himself.

“How do we end up in situations like this?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

Bob rose to his feet, offering you his hand as he helped you stand up again. He smiled at you again - a genuine, caring smile.

“For what it’s worth, I think Bradley really does still love you. I don’t think he’s dumb enough to make the same mistake twice, if that’s your only reason. On the other hand though, anyone with eyes can tell Jake’s crazy about you. I don’t think he’d turn his back on you if you told him the truth about you and Bradley, but he might put in for a transfer to another base. I know I’d want to if my wife’s ex-husband was my supervisor, you know?”

“Fuck, I wish there was an easy solution to this.”

“There is, isn’t there?”

“What? No matter what I do, someone gets hurt.”

“What solution makes you happiest though? That’s your answer.”

Bob headed back up the sandy beach towards the hotel, leaving you to sit alone with your thoughts, stewing over them as you watched the waves crashing onto the shoreline. You hated this. You hated that you let yourself fall into a position where someone would be devastated by a choice you made, and you hated yourself for still feeling something for Bradley, when you so desperately wanted to feel nothing. You hated how despite how passionately Jake loved you, how deeply and madly infatuated he was with you, you couldn’t help but think that he didn’t love you. He simply loved the idea of you. He loved what he saw you as, what he wanted you to be in his heart of hearts, but not the real person behind it all. You couldn’t help but feel torn as you agonized over the right thing to do.

On one hand, if you choose Jake, life would run smoothly for your family and friends, you and Jake would own a beautiful house somewhere, funded almost entirely by the generous wedding gift from your parents, and you’d raise an army of kids, likely all with Jake’s golden blonde hair and bright, piercing green eyes. Jake would be happy. He’d be ecstatic. You’d be happy too, you were sure of it, even if it didn’t come right away to you.

On the other hand, there was Bradley. Bradley was complicated. He was wild and fun, and he made you feel things you never felt before. He was careless and reckless at times, immature and unable to act the part of the adult he was supposed to be, but you could tell he’d grown into the man you wanted him to be over the last eight years. He’d become the man you needed, whether intentionally or not. You could see yourself giving Bradley another chance, trying this marriage thing all over again with him, despite any fears of history repeating itself. Bradley may not want a family, but you could see yourself being happy even without that now. You knew Bradley had the ability to make you happy, and to love you in a way that no one else could, despite all your fears about being with him again.

You checked your phone, chewing your bottom lip nervously as you noticed the time. In eighteen hours, you were expected to walk down the aisle and marry somebody. And until today, you were so sure of who that somebody was. Now, you were sure of just one thing. You needed to talk. 

Inside, you found Jake, who was throwing his jacket on, a harried expression on his face vanishing when he saw you again. He breathed a sigh of relief, as he pulled you in for a hug. 

“I was worried about you, Meghan said you ran out? Is everything alright?”

“Hmm? Yeah, yeah. I, uh, I just need to talk to you about something.”

Jake’s smile fell as he quietly guided you over to the side of the room, his touch gentle as he grasped at your arm, still gently holding on to your elbow as he waited for you to begin explaining everything. 

“Jake,” you started, trying to avoid eye contact with him, knowing for sure that one look into those sea green eyes of his would be enough to make you go back on everything you’d decided.

“You don’t want to marry me anymore, do you?” He said defeatedly, looking at you for a moment, “God, if you’re going to call it off, please have the decency to look me in the eye when you do it.”

“Jake, it’s not like that, I swear.”

“What’s it like then? Because all I’m seeing is my fiancée calling off our wedding hours before it happens.”

“Look, I’m not the girl you think I am, ok?”

“Is this about Bradley?”

“What?”

“I know about Bradley.”

“You do?”

“He told me everything. Why didn’t you tell me he was your ex? And why did you tell me that nothing happened with you two? You told me you and your ex never made it down the aisle - you were married to Bradley for a full year.”

“I know, I know. I got scared, ok?” You snapped back, shaking your head as hot tears rolled down your face.

“Scared of what?!”

“I was scared you wouldn’t love me anymore if you found out! I was scared you’d leave me and that I’d get my heart broken twice because of Bradley.”

“You seriously thought I wouldn’t love you? Do you hear yourself? Do you even know me at all?”

“Jake, please!” You pleaded, knowing it was no use. You couldn’t blame him for being hurt. He knew all too well what was coming, and he had every right to be upset by it all.

“Jake, I am not the perfect woman you thought I am. I can’t be her. You and I can have the dream house, and adorable children and the perfect wedding, but we’ll never be truly happy. You deserve to be happy. I can’t be the one to do it for you though.”

“So this is it, huh?” Jake sighed, shaking his head as he looked away, wiping his eye with his finger to try and hide his tears.

“I’m so sorry,” was all you could get out of you. 

“Me too,” Jake said as he nodded his head sadly. “I’ll put in for a transfer in the morning. I can’t be here. Not under him anyways.”

As Jake headed for the door, he turned back to you, tears in his now bloodshot eyes.

“I hope he makes you happy. I really do. You deserve it. I’m sorry I couldn’t be it for you.”

With that, the door shut behind Jake. You slumped down into a chair in the empty reception hall, crying heavily as you put your head in your hands, shaking it as you admonished yourself for ruining everything, potentially for a man who might not even love you still after all. As you sat there and cursed yourself for your shortcomings as a prospective wife and human being, you heard the voice of someone behind you.

“Now I hope you don’t mean all that. You and I both know, it wasn’t your fault our marriage fell apart.”

You lifted your head up to see Bradley pulling up a seat beside you. He reached out and swiped a couple of teardrops off of your cheek, stroking your face gently with his thumb in an effort to comfort you. He pulled you in tightly for a hug, holding you close as you fell apart in his arms. You felt Bradley’s hand caressing your hair, his fingers tangling themselves in it with a level of care you never expected to feel from him again. He held you as you cried into his uniform, shaking your head against the fabric of his shirt, a mixture of tears and snot now dampening his shoulder.

“Shhh, it’s ok. I’m here,” Bradley soothed, nodding his head as he pressed his lips to your forehead, “I’m right here.”

“Bradley, I ruined my life.”

“I wouldn’t go that far. You just refused to settle in an unhappy marriage. It’s admirable really. You know what you want out of life, and you don’t settle for less. It’s why you left me, wasn’t it?”

“I wasn’t unhappy.”

“You were, but that’s ok. I was a shitty husband. I didn’t know how to be a good one. I didn’t have much to go off of.” 

“I expected too much of you.”

“No,” Bradley asserted, shaking his head. “I didn’t give you what you deserved. I wasn’t man enough to be a good husband to you, and even worse, I wasn’t man enough to admit when I fucked it up. I made you feel like you were less than perfect, and it wasn’t true.”

“I’m not perfect though, Bradley.”

“You’re perfect for me. You always have been.”

Bradley’s hand guided your face upwards to look at him. His warm caramel coloured eyes met your gaze, and for the first time in the last couple of days, you felt home. You felt at peace for the first time in a long time, because you knew it wasn’t forced. You weren’t forcing yourself to be happy and comfortable and relaxed because you were with someone everyone told you was perfect. You were happy and comfortable and relaxed because you knew you were with someone who was perfect, in his own imperfect little way. 

Bradley’s lips crashed into yours, locking you into a passionate kiss, the kind that sweeps you off your feet, tingles in your toes and sends butterflies fluttering through your stomach. It was electrifying as he held you close, his hand resting on the back of your head as he continued to kiss you with a fervor and passion you hadn’t felt in a long time. When you finally broke apart, coming up for air after what felt like a blissful eternity, your eyes met once again, and Bradley couldn’t help but laugh.

“I swear to you, if you let me remarry you tomorrow, I will do everything I can, I’ll move fucking mountains and Heaven and Earth and all that shit just to prove to you that I can be the husband you need me to be. You want kids? Honey, I’ll give you as many of my babies as you want. You want me to retire from the Navy? I’ll give my notice in immediately after the wedding. Name it and it’s yours, baby girl. Just tell me what I gotta do.”

Your heart swelled at the sound of Bradley’s voice, hearing him offer everything he had and then some in order to make you happy was all you needed. You threw your arms around his neck, smiling to yourself through your tear stained cheeks as you felt Bradley’s hands firmly grip your waist.

“Nothing. I don’t need anything. I’d give all that up if it meant I could have you.”

“Really? All of it, huh? Listen, I just really want you to know how serious I am about this. I’m not about to make the same dumbass mistake twice. I’m not going to let you go again. I’ll do whatever it takes for you to be happy. I promise.”

“I know you will. That’s all I need.”

“I, Bradley Nicholas Bradshaw, take thee, to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part. This is my solemn vow.”

“Now, by the power vested in me by the state of California, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

As Bradley's lips pressed against yours, every doubt and worry seemed to melt away. His embrace felt like home, a place where you belonged completely. In his arms, you found comfort and peace from the tumultuous journey that led you both back to each other. The years of separation and heartache faded into insignificance as you surrendered to the overwhelming love that now enveloped you both. You knew this time would be different, that together you could conquer any obstacle that came your way, that Bradley adored you and loved you with all of his heart, and that he planned on never letting a second go by where you thought otherwise. With renewed faith in your love, you were ready to embrace the future, hand in hand with Bradley, knowing that this time, nothing could tear you apart.

[seyaryminamoto]

Fic-to-Art #38: Ozai carries Azula to the physicians' wing

This has been done for A WHILE now, but I didn't post it because the past days have been chaotic and not just on a personal level. For one thing, I really wasn't eager to drop this when people were losing their shit massively over the liveaction and its recontextualization of Azula and Ozai's dynamics, I didn't look forward to releasing this just to be told that whatever I've done in my story is somehow wrong, sooooooooo... that held me back, for a few days.

Then? The AI-Tumblr deal started to be talked about and I may or may not have freaked out about that too. Sooo... this is the first glazed and nightshaded piece of my creation, as consequence. The original, clean and proper version is available in my Patreon. Is this me being a dick to Tumblr-only people? Unfortunately, it very much isn't, I'm not trying to say that if you want the best iterations of my art, you should pay me for it... this is squarely, entirely, at staff/the CEO's feet. Obviously, there's the insecure side of me that goes "what makes you think they'd steal YOUR art when there are so many better artists out there!" but ultimately? AI is about taking everything en masse. It isn't a matter of developing a criteria about who makes the better art... it's just taking EVERYTHING and trying to repurpose it in whatever twisted way it needs to. Therefore? I think my choice is more of a matter of caution than anything else. Once AI bullshit dies out (and I really hope it does), we may just return to the same level of quality across all my accounts. For now, it is what it is.

ANYWAY! Point is this artwork is very much what my Patrons happened to vote for this month, a very shocking scene where Ozai reacted in the least foreseen way to Azula being attacked. Azula's confusion/terror comes from a place of not knowing what to do and being powerless to stop her father even if she doesn't feel comfortable with his help... but for once, Ozai isn't making a dreadful choice that will only devastate his daughter. He's actually worried about her health... and feeling genuine guilt over what landed her in the situation where she was in danger in the first place. Yes. I like me my complex Ozai who finally learned actions have consequences. He bores me to death otherwise :') if anyone STILL doesn't know that this whole situation is Gladiator-specific, then I shall clarify fully: this is artwork based on my fic. It's about a story that has been developing these characters for ALMOST ELEVEN YEARS now. It has nothing to do with whatever's going on in canon or in the liveaction, the scene in question was written almost two years ago and the artwork proposed and voted for several days before the liveaction aired. Ergo: there is no connection between this and that. Nor am I saying through this piece that Ozai is a good father. He is not. He can still be an interesting character to work with on a narrative level anyway :')

Alright. With that out of the way, hope you guys like this piece! The big one I haven't posted is ALSO finished, also glazed and nightshaded, but I think I might just end up posting it on the 26th if I don't have time to do anything big for our eleventh anniversary... yep, I'm so busy I don't even have a huge project in mind this time. Also? I have a lot to write and I'm finally happily writing it, and I would like to continue doing that...

Anyway! If you would like to be part of the creative process behind this piece, as well as see it in its proper, OG, less color-bleeding clunky version? A $1 Patreon pledge gives you the chance to join in suggesting prompts, voting for them and reading Gladiator snippets 6 days before a new chapter is released!

[nataliesfirefly]

chapter 3 - the truce

a/n: omg i am so sorry for not uploading sooner!!! may was so chaotic with finals and everything. i sincerely apologize for taking so long to write this chapter! i dont know if anyone still cares about this series or wants to read it, but im still going to post this just in case some of you still enjoy it :)) love yall so much and again i apologize for the wait 🤍🤍

chapter warnings: slight language

wc: 4k

series masterlist

You make your way to English class hastily, the cold wind almost slicing through your skin and bones. November weather in London has always been cruel, but you can’t remember the last time it was this freezing. You look down at your shoes as you walk, trying to save your face from the harsh, burning gusts. If it’s going to be in the negative temperatures, some snow would be nice.

You eventually reach the classroom and swing open the door, shuffling inside. You sigh with dread, knowing today is the day you’re going to be assigned your partner for the essay. You’d much rather be cozied up in your dorm room with a mug of hot tea, listening to your favorite classical music pieces while reading a non-assigned book.

“Good morning,” Mrs. Chasteen greets you as you walk to your seat. “Are you quite alright?” You pause at her words and raise an eyebrow. “Yes, miss. Why do you ask?” You reply, confused. “Oh. No reason,” She waves a hand dismissively and you decide not to question it as you venture to your seat.

You sit next to Magdalena, a new accquaintance you’ve made in this class. “Is something off about me? Like, my face?” You ask her as you set your things down. “Your cheeks are just very rosy. And your nose,” She giggles and covers her mouth, her green eyes twinkling with amusement. “Oh. It’s just the cold,” You sigh. This was a common occurrence for you.

“Didn’t know Rudolph was in our class,” Someone mutters as they pass by. You glance up and see Farleigh glancing back at you with a smirk. You roll your eyes and groan. “He’s funny,” Magdalena remarks.

You turn to her. “Excuse me?” It comes out harsher than you expected it to, and her eyes widen. “Sorry. I mean… he’s… annoying..?” She says it almost like a question while trying to bite back a grin, but you can see it clearly. “Just because you hate him doesn’t mean I have to,” She points a finger at you. You nod. “Fair point. Sorry, Lena.” You pat her shoulder and she smiles. “No worries.”

“Alright, is everyone settled?” Mrs. Chasteen’s voice drags your attention back to the front of the room. A few quiet agreements echo throughout the room, meaning it’s unfortunately time to start the lesson.

Towards the end of class, Mrs. Chasteen stands up to announce something.

“So, with our first term coming to an end soon, it’s time for you to begin your essays. I’m expecting university level quality, and some very thought-provoking writing. I know you all can do it, just put your minds to it, and trust yourselves. Now, just because I’m giving you a partner does not mean you can slack off. You must do your equal parts of work,” She warns, already knowing the work ethics of some of the people in this class.

“I chose each of your partners for a reason. I think I know you all well enough by now, and I believe you are going to work well with whoever I paired you with.” She explains. You glance over at Magdalena with a smile and raised eyebrows. Mrs. Chasteen likes you, you think, so perhaps she paired you with Lena, since it’s obvious you two have become close.

“Alright.” She walks to her desk and grabs a piece of paper with the pairs written down. “Fiona and Oscar,” She calls out. You hear some mutters and hums and shuffling of your classmates. “Mason and Henry,” She says.

She continues calling out names, and you think you’re going to die from the anticipation. It seems like she’s saving your name for last on purpose. She hasn’t called Lena yet, though, so perhaps there is still hope.

“Magdalena and…” She pauses and squints at the paper. You tightly cross your fingers under the desk. “Olivia.” You turn to Lena quickly. She looks at you with a confused expression and shrugs. Mrs. Chasteen hates you, probably.

Suddenly you hear your name and your attention peaks. You whip back around to face the front, watching your teacher closely. “...and Farleigh.”

You swear your heart drops to your stomach. Your eyes widen and you blink, desperately trying to wake yourself up as if this is only a bad dream. In fact, now that you think of it, you genuinely believe you’ve had a nightmare about this before. Having to work with Farleigh on a project. A project that is basically worth your entire grade this term. Magdalena gasps quietly and then giggles, nudging you. “Oh my God,” She whispers. Of course she finds this funny.

“And that’s all. The essay is due December 15th, I will give you the prompts tomorrow. You are dismissed.” You immediately shoot up from your seat, seemingly at the same time as Farleigh, speedily walking up to Mrs. Chasteen’s desk, trying to beat him there. But it’s no use, as you both arrive there at the same time.

“Miss, is there any way I could switch partners?” You quickly blurt out before he can get a chance to talk, while still trying to remain polite. She looks at you with a surprised expression.

“I can’t do this essay with him.” You glance over at Farleigh who looks offended. “I can’t do this essay with her!” He exclaims. “Alright, alright, you two. Calm down. Why don’t you both have a seat?” She nods towards the two chairs positioned in front of her desk.

You exchange glances before obeying and sitting down. She sits down in her own chair across from the two of you, adjusting her glasses and leaning forward.

“Did it ever occur to you that maybe I had paired you two together for a reason?” She quirks an eyebrow and you have to resist the temptation to roll your eyes.

“I have noticed that there seems to be some sort of… rivalry or.. tension between you. However, I believe you two can work together and write something beautiful, once you put your feelings aside. If you both desire to go to Oxford, this is a skill you must learn. You must be agreeable, and able to adapt to new situations and people. Even if you do not prefer their company.” Mrs. Chasteen explains matter-of-factly.

“I’m not doing this because I dislike you. I’m doing it because you are two of my favorite students.” She winks and stands up. You’ve won, but at what cost? You and Farleigh stand shortly after, following suit. “Now, I think you’d ought to get to your next classes.”

“This absolutely sucks,” He groans as you both trudge across the courtyard, as you have both done everyday since the first day of school when he offered you his umbrella. It’s like a tradition, although he’s not the preferred person you’d like to be walking with right now.

“Yeah, you think?!” You exclaim furiously, raising your voice over the wind. “Did she say we’re going to have to meet outside of class?” He asks, and you turn to glance up at him. “What? Oh my God, that’s even worse!” You slap a hand to your forehead and shake your head.

“I’m not meeting you anywhere,” You tell Farleigh. He stops in his tracks. “It’s not up to us. We have to if we want to get this done. It’s half of our-”

“Yes, I know. Half of our grade. At this point, I’d rather take the zero!” You throw your hands up as you both reach the door to the west wing. He rolls his eyes and holds the door open for you. You angrily bustle past him to escape the freezing cold air.

“Are you serious? It’s really not a big deal. We can get along for the sake of an essay.” The door closes behind you two, leaving both of you alone in the long hallway. You turn around to face him.

“Fine. But we both get equal input for the essay. I know how you are when it comes to group projects,” You narrow your eyes at him and fold your arms, remembering that chaotic astronomy project you had to work on with Farleigh and some other irrelevant people during your tenth year. He was a total control freak and didn’t let you do anything, because he feared you would ‘mess it up.’

“Okay, okay. Deal.” He nods and holds out his hand like it’s some kind of business agreement. Or maybe more like a truce. For now. You reluctantly take his hand and shake it gently. You can’t help but notice how small your hand is compared to his own.

“See you later.” You spin on your heel and head up the stairs quickly to get to biology. Hopefully this whole ordeal doesn’t cause you to be late.

The next day in class, Mrs. Chasteen assigns each group their prompt. Unfortunately, you now have to sit next to Farleigh. You’ll certainly miss Magdalena’s peaceful company and her ability to not make snarky comments every five seconds.

“Right, so our prompt is…” You drag the slip of paper closer to you to read the words printed. “Discuss revenge in the novel. In what ways is it connected to love? What is the nature of love in the novel, that it can be so closely connected to vengeance?” You read aloud.

“Easy.” Farleigh sighs and leans back in his chair nonchalantly. “Well, then perhaps you would like to enlighten me with some of your ideas?” You turn to him expectantly. “Are you doubting my knowledge?” He asks, clutching a hand to his chest as if to appear offended. “No. Just curious.” You shrug and smile mischeviously, but you know exactly what you’re doing.

“Heathcliff’s unrequited love for Catherine drives his desire for revenge. Their love is self-destructive and all-consuming which leads to Heathcliff’s strong emotions and actions.” He replies. You sit there in silence for a moment, realizing he actually knew what was going on in the novel. You had assumed he had just skimmed through it and Googled a summary.

“Exactly what I was thinking,” You mutter, nodding slowly in agreement. “Great. Sounds like we won’t have any trouble with this essay,” He smiles and pats you on the shoulder firmly. You almost instantly recoil, shifting in your chair and glaring at him. What is it with him and touching you?

“So, when should we meet up to work on it?” You ask. “How about tonight at seven? The library?” Farleigh suggests. “I won’t steal your spot this time,” He says teasingly. “Shut up.” You snap.

“Why did you care so much about that anyway?” He questions. “I’m just…” You trail off, your face reddening. “Superstitious?” He raises his eyebrows and you sigh. “I guess you could say that.” You shrug and look back down at the table.

“Should we get each other’s numbers?” He suddenly asks. Your eyes dart up to his. “What?” You can already feel your face getting hot again, and you don’t even know why. The idea of Farleigh having your number is… frightening. But why are you blushing at the thought of it? And why does he want your number? Could he possibly…

“For the project.” Your expression probably gave too much away, so he had to clarify. “Oh. Right. Yeah, definitely.” You nod a bit aggressively as he fishes his phone out of his pocket, unlocking it and handing it to you. Your hands tremble as you take his phone and type in your number. You hand it back to him and pray he didn’t notice your strange behavior. “Thanks,” He mutters.

“You know that Clara girl?” He says. “Yeah, what about her?” Your curiosity peaks as you glance over at him. “She’s been talking to me a lot. Like, she’s barely spoken a sentence to me in the past five years we’ve been at this school. And now she won’t leave me alone,” He says it with that tinge of pride in his voice.

“Okay?” You gesture vaguely. “Well, your friends with her, right?” He lowers his voice and checks around him to make sure no one is eavesdropping. “Yeah…?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Does she ever… you know, talk about me?” He asks. You almost laugh but you stop yourself. “No, she doesn’t.” You bite back a feisty remark. “You are seriously no help whatsoever.” He shakes his head and pinches the space between his eyes.

“Just because a girl starts talking to you more than she usually does, does not mean she likes you.” You tell him, only realizing how untrue that sentence is after you’ve said it. “You just have a huge ego,” You recover quickly after your moment of silence.

“I do not. If anyone does it’s you.” He replies a little too quickly. It goes quiet all of a sudden and you awkwardly look away and out the window. He clears his throat. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine,” You quietly respond. Sooner or later class is over and you’re free from that awkward moment.

Later that night you arrive at the library, a few minutes after seven. You walk in and head over to where Farleigh is sitting, conveniently next to your usual spot. You smile at the thought of him remembering where it was and remembering not to take it.

But then you notice there’s someone standing at the side of the table, leaning against the table with their long legs crossed, twirling their lengthy blonde hair. Clara.

You awkwardly walk over and stand there next to Clara, waiting for her to turn and notice you.

“You’re funny,” She giggles right as Farleigh glances up and sees you. She turns, following his line of eyesight and eventually meeting your gaze. “Oh, hello!” She grins brightly. Why is she always so… sociable?

“Hi, Clara.” You step aside, going around her to your side of the table and sitting down. She seems confused. “Oh, are you two-”

“We’re just meeting up for a project,” Farleigh explains. “Oh. The essay for English, right?” To your surprise, she sits on the table, perfectly comfortable. Is Farleigh blushing?

“Yep,” You nod with a sigh, hoping that she’ll take the hint. “That book was honestly so boring. I couldn’t even tell you what it’s actually about.” She laughs like it’s funny. And the worst part is, Farleigh is chuckling along with her.

“We should probably get to work…” You mutter. You make eye contact with Clara and something in her gaze is threatening. But then, the switch flips and she nods, sliding off the table. “Alright. I’ll leave you to it! Have a good night, you two.” She smiles and walks away, and you swear she purposely walks with a swing in her hips.

Farleigh is just staring after her like an idiot. You nudge him harshly. “Farleigh,” You hiss. He startles out of his trance and turns to you. “Ow. What?!” He rubs his arm sarcastically and you roll your eyes.

“See, I think she likes me. You were lying to me.” He whispers. “I didn’t lie to you. I just–” You cut yourself off before you say something embarrassing.

“Whatever. It doesn’t matter. Let’s just get started on this,” He says, and you both reach down into your bags for your laptops and book copies.

“I’ve never written an essay with someone before.” You mutter. You’re curious as to how this will work; perhaps you both take turns writing paragraphs, or take turns revising and editing. “I can do the introduction. I’m pretty good at those,” Farleigh offers.

“I mean… you could, I guess.” You don’t sound so certain. Introduction paragraphs are your specialty, and if he writes it, you know it wouldn’t be as good as yours. He looks at you with confusion. “What do you mean ‘I guess’?” His thick eyebrows furrow.

“Nothing, it’s only that… well, I’d rather write the introduction.” You explain sheepishly. “What, you think I can’t do it?” He questions. He crosses his arms defensively.

“I never said that. I just think that you should let me do it.” You reply. You can already feel yourself becoming annoyed by him. “Why should I?” He shoots back. “Because– Because..” You can’t think of a good reason. Shit.

“Because?”

Silence.

“Let’s write it together, then.” Ah, yes. A compromise. Something you hate. Of course he would be the one to suggest that.

“Fine.” You huff and fall back into your chair. “We’ll just write it on mine, it will be easier that way.” He moves his laptop in front of him and begins to type. You sit up quickly and squint to see what he’s typing.

Seems good so far. Until–

“Wait. Maybe we should use a different word right there,” You suggest, but it’s not really a suggestion at all. More like an order.

“What’s wrong with intense?” He asks combatively, not bothering to look at you. “I think impassioned would be better. Or passionate, even.” You reply. He lets out a sigh full of exasperation. “You’re so stubborn,” He mutters while shaking his head.

“And you’re such a dick,” Your voice raises a bit too high, gaining a few turned heads and curious glances. “Jesus, okay. I’ll change it.” He whispers, replacing the word with your recommendation.

Your next hour spent in the library consists of hushed arguments and whisper-yelling over who should write what and who comes up with the better phrasing. You knew this couldn’t possibly work out. You’re both too stubborn and aggressive to work together.

You haul your backpack onto your shoulders and push in your chair a bit violently. Farleigh really pissed you off tonight.

“Goodnight…” He watches you with wide eyes. “Night,” You respond shortly as you hurriedly walk to the front doors.

Later that night, you’re sitting at your desk listening to music while doing some homework for your history class. Your phone dings with a notification.

You curiously flip over your phone, peering down at the screen. Unknown number.

“Hey, it’s Farleigh. Should we meet tomorrow evening, same time at my dorm?”

Oh. He hasn’t texted you since you gave him your number, so you haven’t had the chance to save his number. But why at his dorm?

You unlock your phone and begin typing out a response.

“Okay.”

No, too harsh. You hit the backspace button a few times and try again.

“Sure!”

Too energetic. You groan and delete the word once again. Why are you overthinking this so much? It’s just Farleigh.

“Sounds good.” You settle on that and press the send button. Maybe he doesn’t want to meet at the library anymore because of all the strange looks you both received last time.

You check the time on your phone lockscreen. Seven PM sharp. You take a deep breath and knock on Farleigh’s door, preparing yourself for some more bickering.

The door opens with a slight creaking sound. “Hey,” Farleigh says quietly. The awkwardness sets in and it takes you a moment to come up with a response.

“Hi.” You stand there, waiting for him to step aside to let you in. He stares down at you for a few seconds, but for some reason, it feels like a whole minute.

He opens the door further and makes room for you to enter. You take a few small steps inside and he closes the door behind you. You glance around, taking all the details in. All the dorms here have the same layout, but everyone is free to personalize and decorate however they would like to, within reason.

You would expect the asshole to be sporting a bunch of medals and trophies, but it’s quite the opposite. There’s a few movie posters and postcards (you’re assuming from America) hung neatly on the walls, a small bookshelf with various novels and notebooks, a work desk similar to your own with sheets of paper splayed out and pens scattered about in typical Farleigh fashion, a closet, and a nice potted plant on the windowsill.

“Not bad,” You comment with a teasing smile. “What did you expect?” He laughs softly and rests his hands in his pockets, watching you survey the room. “I thought it would be more messy,” You grin.

“It usually is,” He replies, and then his smile quickly fades as if he just registered what he said. “So you cleaned up just for me? Awww.” You press a hand to your chest and pout your lips in mock flattery. He stutters. “No, I..” Is he getting nervous right now?

You clear your throat. “Anyways. Let’s get to work.” You clap your hands twice for dramatic effect, sitting down on the floor with your legs criss-crossed. Farleigh grabs his laptop and joins you, placing it in between you.

“Sorry about yesterday.” He murmurs so softly you can barely hear it. “Hm?” You decide to be cheeky. If he’s going to apologize, you want to hear it louder than that. “I said sorry. About yesterday. I was being… annoying.” He says it a bit louder this time.

“Annoying is one word for it,” You bite your lip shortly afterwards. You shouldn’t have said that. If you want to get this essay done, you’re going to have to try to get along with him. “I forgive you.” For you, those three words are the hardest words to say. You let out a breath.

“You were being an asshole too, though.” He tilts his head and raises his eyebrows at you. “I- Yeah. I was. Sorry.” Your face reddens and you rub the back of your neck. Why is it suddenly so warm in this room?

“I really think we can do this.” Farleigh’s gaze burns into yours and it’s so hard not to look away. His usual cold and dark stare is replaced by something warmer, kinder. “Me too,” You agree, but your voice comes out sounding a bit odd. You cough slightly. “Sorry.”

“I’ve written down some ideas for the format. Like, what we should write about in each paragraph.” He explains, standing up to grab a notebook from his desk. Wow. Maybe he’s actually going to be useful.

This evening was far more productive than the one before. You two managed to get most of the second paragraph done. And against all odds, there was only one small argument. You were even able to laugh together. There’s still some tension floating around the room, and you’re not sure why it’s there. Not even the usual tension between you two, more like…

Farleigh stands up. “I’d say that was pretty productive.” He stretches and yawns before offering you his hand. You freeze and just stare at it until you realize he’s just trying to help you up. God, why do you keep assuming the wrong things? You reach up for his hand and he pulls you up with a little too much strength, causing you to kind of fall into him. He steadies you with his hands on your waist before quickly removing them as if he’s just touched a hot stove.

“Sorry,” You both blurt out. “It’s okay.” You say casually, although you’re trying to pretend your legs don’t feel like jelly right now.

“So… I guess I’ll see you Monday, then. Unless you want to work on this over the weekend.” He says. You shake your head. “I think since we started early, we’re already pretty far ahead. Let’s just plan for Monday.” He nods at your words and you smile.

“Goodnight, Farleigh,” You head for the door and you can see a slight hesitation in his eyes, like he wants to say something more. But he doesn’t. “Goodnight.”

And with that, you’re headed back to your own dorm, already feeling the effects of exhaustion setting in.

[prickly-paprikash]

Don't you just hate it when one of the biggest grifters online decides to like a piece of media you like?

Gatekeeping is wrong. Forcing someone to like something in the specific way I interact and consume a piece of media is wrong. Art is meant to be viewed through a multitude of lenses, and each individual will have their own way of interpreting that creation. And that's good. That's fine. That's human.

But when an Anti-Woke Grifter who thinks alcoholism is a really cool personality trait and decides to brand everything about themselves as that; who has historically engaged and criticized films and shows and games and books in bad faith; who has put down women and POC's and Queer representation in media; who is one of the biggest dicks in the online space decides to actually pay attention to an art that is pretty much dipped, coated, laminated, and injected with fucking GAY, ANTI-PATRIARCHAL ENERGY—that's when I get mad.

For those not in the know, Critical Drinker has posted a review for Blue Eye Samurai, saying he likes it.

You know... Blue Eye Samurai?

The show that oozes Queer Wrath? Feminine Rage? Curb-Stomping Toxic Masculinity and the Patriarchy whenever and wherever it can? That Blue Eye Samurai?

See, he's done this before with Arcane.

He says he likes it. Him and his ilk say that, "Finally, the wokies have done something actually good!" and point to Vi and Jinx as strong female characters written well!

But they also say, dang, feels like all the men in that show are idiots and that they had to be dumbed down to make room for the rainbow-haired girlies brigade. Who have all remarked that Vi and Caitlyn's relationship is forced and being shoved down our throats because god forbid women like women!

I got sick of watching his Arcane review halfway, and this was before I knew what a douche Critical Sucker was.

So I ain't watching his Blue Eye Samurai review. Why?

His Glass Onion review was done in bad faith.

I didn't like She-Hulk, but that's because that show was a byproduct of abused VFX animators, creatively bankrupt executives, and writers desperately trying to manage a convoluted shared universe that continues to buckle under its own weight. Political Stinker over here thinks that it's pandering, stupid, feminist garbage. He is one of the biggest Anti-Feminist voices in Youtube.

Him and his incel brigade have an obsession over hating Captain Marvel and Brie Larson. These basement dwelling cucks rant and rave over a mediocre duology and an actress that just lives in their tiny heads rent-free.

He says that they are removing men from leading roles and roles of great importance!

So why would I want to listen to an inebriated libertarian's opinions on a show that has become the show for lesbians, trans mascs, and other lovely brands of gay and feminism that he oh so despises? He'll most likely praise the action and violence and shit like that, then probably say that Mizu and Taigen's homoerotic rivalry isn't gay actually. Or that Mizu and Akemi's narrative foils don't scream enemies-to-sapphics. Or that Mizu, WHO'S NAME MEANS WATER AND HER ENTIRE CHARACTER REVOLVES AROUND FLUIDITY ISN'T IN ANY WAY SHAPE OR FORM FLUID IN HER GENDER AND SEXUALITY.

Fuck. I'm sorry. I don't even care if he doesn't say that. He's made so many disgusting, disparaging remarks about any piece of media that shows an inkling of progressive themes that what else am I supposed to expect?

If anyone watches it and sees this, lemme know. Watching an Anti-Woke bullshit video with just myself is just straight up wading through the desert without proper protection. No thanks.

Anyway watch Blue Eye Samurai again. Because I know you watched it. Watch it again. And again. And when you're done, watch Arcane. Watch She-Ra. Watch Dragon Prince. Castlevania. Watch anything "woke". Consume trans-positive shows. Make all the haters and even the ones who like it but have no ounce of media literacy irrelevant. Let them dry out and die, please.

[aces-and-angels]

lunch break by the wonderfully talented @mimibayra (click for better quality)

hello friends✨

i am beyond honored to be sharing this amazing artwork i had done for @oh-so-youre-a-nerd and @saibug1022. elliott's done so many beautiful pieces for the windverse, it was about time i returned the favor🖤 mags is notorious for skipping meals, so to be sat down with wind over a basket of pastries is nothing short of a miracle 😂

this art was thanks to a donation i personally made to the following gfm campaign. i would like everyone to take the time to meet laila:

pictured above is laila and her four siblings; photo taken from laila's gfm page

(please read more below):

---

an excerpt from laila's campaign (organized by ahmed shaqqoura, laila's uncle; note this is only a portion of what is written and i strongly encourage you to read the whole passage)

---

from laila's tumblr @lailashaqoura:

a ss of one of laila's calligraphy pieces (full post here)

laila reached out to me three days ago (see here) asking to share her story with you all. her campaign has been vetted/verified by multiple sources that i've double checked:

source one // source two (laila's campaign is listed as #152 on the sheet made by @/nabulsi and @/el-shab-hussein) to learn more on how to double check if campaigns have been vetted/verified: read here

since my initial post (6/7), laila's family has raised $1,839. those additional funds were made possible by people continuing to spread laila's message. to stand with palestinians is to see them for who they are. to read their stories and understand that they are more than the horrific conditions they have endured for years. they are mothers- fathers- brothers- sisters- and so much more. laila is one of many brilliant lights that deserves to continue to showcase her talents as an artist with the world. she deserves to live out her dreams- as well as the rest of her family

@/mimibayra is currently offering her time and talents to making art like this for anyone who donates to not only laila's campaign, but others she has mentioned on her donation commission sheet. feel free to reach out to her for any questions you may have!

another artist i want to highlight here is @palentonga who is also offering art for those able to donate. i know a few of my moots here are dnd fans- and she specializes in making portraits for dnd characters. it was actually through her account that i was able to find @/mimibayra in the first place. visit her 📌 for more info on her donation commissions

while it is heartbreaking to read the stories coming from palestine, it is also a privilege to know them. i may never get to meet laila and her family face to face- but i still feel connected to them in a way that i never thought to be possible. there is beauty in knowing that you can care so deeply- feel as strongly- about their cause. to quote @/fairuzfan (a palestinian blogger):

"there is still hope. say it out loud. palestine will be free. the palestinian people will celebrate their culture and heritage with each other. we will love and be loved. do not fall into the trap of despair." read full post here

for anyone who can, please consider matching my donation:

and if you can't donate, please share laila's story and continue to make space for her and her family in your heart. stay present and engaged for them and everyone else in palestine. listen to those who are sharing their lives and experiences so openly whilst facing tremendous suffering, not just here on tumblr, but on any platform you may have. it is never to late to stand with them. because we are not free until they are all free

if you made it this far, thanks for sticking around 🖤

[agentwhiskeysdarlin]

The Sun Always Rises

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Rating: NSFW 18+ (please read the warnings before you continue)

Warnings: grab your tissues folks because this is a rough one. Fluff, angst, smutty times but it’s brief, p in v sex, slightly rough sex, this is tlou universe so with that comes infected and violence. VERY IMPORTANT PLEASE READ BEFORE CONTINUING: One of the characters dies and there are some heavy themes implied that comes with that. For the sake of not using triggering words, they seemingly help their death along. It’s not graphic and it’s not done in depth but it’s implied. If that is triggering for you please do not hit keep reading.

Word Count: 4.5k (I believe this is my longest fic to date)

Author’s Notes: The fic the world almost didn’t see. I have been writing this pretty much over the course of the entire show and I thought it would be good as a well I won’t say celebration of the show coming to a close for it’s first season. This is probably the heaviest and darkest thing I have ever written and with that came the nerves of not wanting to post it. Thanks to @clint-aww-no-barton​ for helping me make is a bit better and talking me into posting it. I am actually very happy with this fic even given what happens and it’s probably one of my favorite things I have ever written. I hope you all enjoy and grab your tissues because you will need them. Sorry for the weird time posting! I didn't mean for that to happen but here we are!

ao3 link

  The earth crunched under Joel’s feet. His gun held firmly in one hand, his eyes taking in everything he could possibly see. He always walked behind them so he could watch, so he could keep them safe. You laughed and his eyes snapped to the back of your head. You were holding your stomach, Ellie holding that damn pun book in her hand. Joel couldn’t stop his eye roll but he also didn’t stop the tiny smile that pulled at the corner of his lips. It was you, really, that made him smile, you’d been his only reason for so long.

  You’d come into Joel’s life suddenly and unpredictably, like the most beautiful sunrise he’d ever seen. You were the embodiment of sunshine and anyone who knew you would completely agree. Including Joel, despite the dark cloud always over his head. Now he had his own piece of sunshine to push that darkness away. His nightmares had always been of outbreak night, but losing you had become a part of them. Pulling him from his sleep with a jolt. He found himself watching you breathe as you slept, to reassure himself that you were okay. That you were still with him.

  You turned and looked back at him, eyes bright with a wide smile, and Joel just looked at you and shook his head. A small smirk formed on his lips. You just about glowed with happiness at making him smile, and you stopped in your tracks waiting for him to catch up. Joel fell in step between you and Ellie. It didn’t take long for him to regret his decision.

  “What did the grape say when it got crushed?” Ellie read aloud, a smirk forming on her lips.

  “Hmmmm I don’t know what?” You spoke from Joel’s left, your voice bright and already dancing on the edge of more laughter.

  “Nothing, it let out a little wine.”

  Joel shook his head again as the two started to laugh.

  “Oh that’s lame,” you laughed.

  “That was pretty lame.” Joel finally spoke and you stopped one, hand going to your chest the other reaching out to his shoulder.

  “Ah he speaks!! You hear that Ellie? He has a voice!”

  Joel rolled his eyes but as he turned to keep walking, he smiled.

  “Ah and he’s smiling,” Ellie smirked, wiggling her eyebrows.

  Joel caught her giving you a wink as you fall back in line next to him, smiling proudly.

  Evening came almost too quickly but Joel was counting all of you lucky. It was like an answered prayer, seeing the small building in such a rural area. Joel checked the small space on quiet feet, then he motioned you and Ellie inside.

  “Ellie you’ll take that room. There’s only one door, so if someone wants to come in they’ll have to go through us.” Joel spoke, his head nodding towards the open doorway.

  He sat down his backpack to pull out the little bit of food he had. His mind however was on anything but eating. He wanted Ellie in the other room for other reasons. He glanced at you, watching as you slung off your own pack to pull your own food from it. He watched as you set your book out and your bedroll, so oblivious to his plans.

  “We’ll eat a bit and then get some sleep,” he spoke quietly.

  The three of you sat around and mostly ate in silence. Peppered here and there with discussion of where you were and how much longer you thought it might actually take to get where you were going. All too soon dinner came to a close and Joel moved to the other room, anxiously waiting for you to join him. He let out a sigh of relief when he heard you speak your good nights to Ellie. You closed the door before turning to him, your soft smile becoming a smirk as you noticed him waiting.

*Reader’s POV*

  He looked like he was about to devour you. You felt your self growing wet as you began walking forward. You met in the middle, his hands coming up to your cheeks as he kissed you. Joel always kissed with such passion, that every time it happened it felt like the first time all over again. Nothing was ever slow with him either. In a world like this you couldn’t afford slow love making, but you didn’t mind. Having him in anyway you could was enough for you. His hands were everywhere, feeling every inch of you he possibly could. You sighed against his lips, weak within his touch. He had already laid out a sleeping bag, with your packs close by and pillows made of clothes. He wrapped his arms around you and with great care moved you to the ground. As laid you down his lips finally parted from yours and you both panted.

  “We have to be quiet sweetheart, alright?” He spoke in a whisper, so quiet you were sure you were the only person who could have heard him.

  All you could do was nod and give him a pleading look. He smirked at the way you silently begged for him.

  “Use your words,” he spoke as his forehead pressed to yours.

  “We have to be quiet now, please Joel,” you panted out, letting a small whine go at the end of your words.

  Joel chuckled as he worked to pull your jeans down and then quickly pulled himself out. He didn’t waste time entering you, and you both let out groans at the feeling. This would never get old and you only hoped, with every ounce of your being, that one day you could share a real bed and take your time. For now you took what he could give, and gave him everything you had. It was quick, hands and lips everywhere. Sweet nothings slipped past his lips as his hips moved, soft but quick. You both reached your highs in, what you swore, was record time. He pulled from you and you wished he didn’t have to. You both fixed yourselves, before he pulled the top of the sleeping bag over the two of you and pulled you close. He kissed your temple.

  “Sleep sweetheart. I’ll take first watch.”

  “Don’t go yet,” you pouted pulling him close.

  “I’m going to wait until you’re asleep. I promise.”

  He chuckled and you shook your head, curling into him. It didn’t take long, unfortunately, for sleep to wash over you and take you.

  The pencil glided gently across the paper in your lap. Morning light crept between the fraying curtains behind you. It was just enough to make out the man that slept on the floor in front of you. You had woken up several hours to take over watch. You’d kissed him lightly on the cheek as he found his own rest, before checking on Ellie. You’d settled in to lean on the wall under the window and at first light you had started drawing. It was a hobby you did before the world went to shit, but you had started doing it more afterwards. It was a way for you to cope and sketch memories. You even found yourself adding in things that were more normal, to make it look like the life you were living was not what it was.

  “How the hell can you even see?”

  “Don’t move,” a smile pulled at your lips at Joel’s sleepy voice breaking the silence.

  “I need to stretch sweetheart.”

  “Just a few more minutes. I almost have it.”

  “When are you going to let me see all your sketches?”

  “The day I die.”

  “That’s not funny.”

  “I’m not joking,” you smiled wider now.

  It had been a thing for you to keep your sketches on lock down. You didn’t want him to see until the sketchbook was full, and you had a ways to go. You hadn’t even shown Ellie, even with her begging. It was a private way for you to record memories, and you were a little scared of people seeing your work. The day you were gone from this world anyone could have at it.

  “I’m done. You may move now, my muse,” you spoke with a wide smile as Joel finally sat up.

  “I want to see.”

  “Nice try. Not happening. Plus it’s not done. I’ll have to add some more things in later. I’ll go wake Ellie. Get a move on old man and make us some breakfast.”

  You stood up, shoving yourself off the wall and opening the curtains. When you turned to leave the room Joel stretched, still half under the sleeping bag, eyes squinting, hand trying to shield against the sudden light. You bent and kissed him, that same hand coming to your cheek. You deepened it, unable to help yourself.

  “You two get a room,” Ellie’s disgusted voice broke the two of you apart.

  Joel and you looked around before shrugging.

  “Looks like we got one,” the both of you spoke and you busted out laughing.

  Joel followed and then Ellie’s face broke out in a smile.

  “You two are gross but in a cute way.”

  “Well thank you kiddo. I was just coming to wake you up anyways. Joel here has volunteered to cook up breakfast.”

  “I don’t recall volunteering. I was told I would be fixing breakfast,” Joel gave you a pointed look as he stood up, stretching and moving about to work his muscles.

  Ellie made the sound of a cracking whip, which only made you throw back your head in a laugh.

  “Oh you know it,” you spoke to her throwing her a wink.

  Joel stood there with his hands on his hips looking between the two of you, his tongue pushing against his cheek.

  “Are the two of you done?”

  “For now,” you patted him as you walked past to gather your things in your bag.

  Out of the corner of your eye you saw his face twitch with a smile, as he shook his head before squatting down and fishing food from his pack.

  The day had been a slow moving one. You felt like the city had only grown bigger, and the three of you would never reach the other side. You glanced toward the sky, noting the sun was starting its slow decent.

  “We need to find somewhere to settle soon,” you spoke as you glanced back at Joel.

  His eyes connected with yours before he glanced at the sun and squinted.

  “Yeah we don’t need to be out in the open when it gets dark.”

  “Where are we going to go?” Ellie spoke as she turned and started to walk backwards.

  Joel turned around gesturing obviously around the three of you, “well there are about a hundred buildings around us.”

  They gave each other a look before Ellie stuck her tongue out at Joel, and as she turned back around caught your eye and rolled hers. You didn’t stop the laugh that passed your lips.

  “Okay children,” you glanced back at Joel, who just glanced up at you.

  His brows were furrowed and that pout was across his lips. It was honestly cute and you never stopped poking fun at his grumpiness. It was incredibly true that opposites attracted.

  “Alright let’s just pick one and see if we need to clear it before it gets too dark.” Joel spoke as he took a turn, heading for a random building.

  Thankfully it wasn’t a skyscraper, which you had always hated staying in, and aside from the usual disrepair, it seemed to be standing pretty well. You pulled your gun from your holster, gripping it in both hands, your knife fixed on your belt. You looked from Joel to Ellie, both taking quiet steps. Joel held a rifle and Ellie matched you with a small pistol. You had talked Joel into giving her a gun, after the two of you were jumped and almost didn’t make it out. You gave them both a nod and stepped forward. It was almost like a dance you had known your whole life. The three of you had fallen into a step by step sweep. It’s almost worked every time, with only very few failures. Joel went one way, Ellie and yourself the other. You breathed carefully, walked quietly and listened closely. You heard them before you stepped around the corner, at least a dozen infected. Gunshots fired behind you somewhere and you only prayed it was Joel as chaos erupted.

  The infected moved quickly, screaming as they charged for you. You shot as quickly as you could, trying to take down any that came your way. Ellie moved next to you, panicked words coming from her lips, but you couldn’t completely hear what she was saying. You heard more footsteps behind you and a scream, but you were far too late. The infected woman has you down on the ground in moments and the two of you started to roll. Your gun clattered across the ground, and now your knife was your only option. You tried to get angle it to stab your target but it wasn’t working. You let out a scream, trying to pull Joel or Ellie to you, but they both fought their own battles. Complete fear took you over and you became frenzied. Pain shot somewhere up your side and you ignored it as you stabbed blindly. Then a gunshot. You jumped and the infected slumped against you. She started to tip forward, blood oozing across you, as you shoved her off. You panted, sitting there for a beat, before a hand reached out, Ellie. You took it and she helped you up.

  “You okay?!” She spoke.

  “I think so, yeah. Thank you. Did we get them all?” You spoke the question as Joel ran up panting.

  “Are y’all okay?” He looked between the two of you frantically.

  “Yeah I think so,” you breathed. “Do you think we’re clear now?”

  You felt the adrenaline pumping through your veins start to fade, and fatigue began to take over far too quickly.

  “I think we’re good. I found us a few rooms we can stay in, toward the back. I’m going to set some traps real quick.”

  Joel motioned, and you followed him with Ellie on your heels, to a few rooms towards the back of the building. Only one window between the two. Ellie took the room to the back with no entrances, and Joel and yourself took the other so you could keep watch and take anything out before it could get to her.

  “I’ll be back,” Joel spoke and you gave each other a nod, before he was gone.

  Ellie had already went to her room to settle herself and you stood there looking around. You pulled your pack from your back and jumped as pain ripped up your body. Your brows furrowed and you looked down. You felt your stomach sink and bile rise up your throat. There on your side, under a now blood covered shirt, was a bite. You stared at it for a long moment, your hands trembling as you held your shirt to check the damage.

  “Fuck,” you uttered with a tremble, voice cracking.

  You had to pull yourself together. You had a few hours and you needed to figure out a plan and, worst of all, you had to figure out how to tell Joel. You looked towards the door he had left out of moments before. Your sadness was not for yourself. You knew this was how most stories ended, and you had always been prepared for it. Mostly content with leaving this world, but since Joel it had been harder. No your sadness was not for yourself, it was for him.

  The sun hadn’t completely set yet but your lantern made shadows that danced across the walls around you. The three of you had decided to eat and you nibbled at your food, nerves raw and on edge. You kept staring at Joel taking him in, memorizing him. Ellie too. It was time. You needed to tell them both before it was too late, but you needed to tell Joel first, and alone.

  “Ellie can um, can you give me and Joel a minute?” Your words were soft, shaking.

  “Sure,” Ellie spoke just as softly, her brows furrowed.

  You gave her a look and knowing passed over her features. She thankfully didn’t say anything or give anything away as she walked into the other room. Joel looked at you with concern, and you felt like you were going to be sick before you could push the words out.

  “Joel I…” you paused, closed your eyes and took a deep breath. “I got bit.”

  It came out in a whisper and you couldn’t meet his eyes, as silence wrapped around the two of you. You were trembling again, tears gathering in your eyes. You finally looked up, and the sight you were met with shattered you completely.

*Joel’s POV*

  This wasn’t happening. Not again. No. No no no. Joel refused to believe it, even with the look on your face. He wanted to scream, he wanted to break something. Why did he continue to fail the people he loved? Sarah. And now you. Not you. Anybody but you. The cruel world Joel had been living in just became the true villain in his story. Stealing away the brightest light he had in his life. He thought everything had been okay. You said you were okay.

  “Joel, please, say something.” your voice pulled him back and his eyes shot to yours.

  Tears spilled down your cheeks now and the sight was something so rare, that it only broke his heart more.

  “This…it can’t…I…I don’t understand.” It was all he could say.

  Then he broke. Joel was a man that didn’t cry often, and he had only done it a handful of times in his life. He couldn’t find a way to care in that moment. You were up on your feet coming to him, as he stood and pulled you to him. The two of you stood there for a long moment sobbing into each other.

  “Is it true?” Ellie’s soft and broken voice made Joel look up.

  You turned in his arms and he watched as you gave her a simple nod and then she was reaching for you. She shed her own tears, as Joel watched the two of you hold each other.

  “Listen to me Ellie,” you spoke through tears, as you gently pulled Ellie away and bent to eye level with her.

  Joel just watched on. His little family broken again by the darkness of death.

  “You have to promise me to keep going, okay? You have to take care of him. He’s an old man so he’s going to need you,” a small chuckle from the both of you. “But you keep going and you save this world okay, kiddo? You are so special Ellie, and I’m so thankful to have known you.”

  “You’re the one that’s special,” Ellie sobbed out. “This is so unfair.”

  Joel watched as you pulled Ellie back to you for a bone crushing hug, he knew had to hurt you, but he knew you didn’t care.

  “I love you kiddo,” your words were soft and muffled in Ellie’s hair, but Ellie spoke them back with another breaking sob.

  “I’ll leave you two alone,” Ellie spoke as she pulled away.

  Joel watched as you stopped her, grabbing her hand.

  “Thank you.”

  The words were almost too soft for even Joel to hear, but they were full of knowing. Ellie gave you a nod and then turned and went back into her room, shutting the door that still hung on it hinges. Then you turned and looked at him.

  “How long do you think you have?”

  “Not much longer,” your words were soft.

  “How do you want…” Joel let his words die on his tongue, unable to speak the truth of the matter.

  “You still have all those pain pills?” You asked and Joel just nodded.

  “I’ll take them and then once I slip away you…”

  You couldn’t finish the sentence, but Joel knew what you needed. Even though the thought broke him, he knew that you didn’t want to pass from this earth by the hands of anyone else. He would give you every last wish you desired.

  “And I…I want you to hold me. I want you to be the last thing I see.”

  The words fell from you more sure and Joel just nodded, swallowing back more tears. He fixed the bedding against a wall so you could be more comfortable. He tried not to think too much as he moved, but failed as his mind raced. He glanced over, seeing you pull a full bottle of pills from his pack and your knife. He settled against the wall and you sat to his left but you didn’t lay down yet. Your eyes locked with his. They were so beautiful, a sight he always loved. They were always so bright, so full of laughter, light, life. Even now, through the tears, even with what was happening you still held that light there. Joel always knew you were impossibly happy in a world like this, and it seemed death wouldn’t even dim that completely. You gazed at him for a long moment, before reaching out to cup his cheek. Your touch sending that electric shock through him. Making his heart rate jump. It was a feeling he never thought he would experience again, until he met you. He fell in love almost instantly, and even tried to push you away, but it didn’t work and he finally surrendered. Joel leaned into your touch, memorizing it.

  “Joel Miller you listen to me okay?” Your words shook as you held back tears, but he nodded all the same. “Please keep going. Don’t stop living okay? You have to keep going for Ellie. Get her where she needs to go, but don’t let them…don’t let them do anything cruel to her okay? You are a good man Joel. No matter what you think. You came into my life like a whirlwind and you took my heart. It’s yours, it has been and always will be. If you find someone else, please take the jump. Love them as much as you did me. You and Ellie are going to change this world and I hope you find somewhere to settle. I hope you get to do the things you’ve alway wanted. I’ll always be here.”

  Joel took your face into his hands and pulled your forehead against his.

  “I’ll never love anyone the way I loved you. You were the light I needed so badly in this dark world. I promise I’ll keep going, if for nothing else but you and Ellie. You are such a bright light in this world, and it’s not going to be the same without you. I’m not going to be the same without you. I love you so much,” Joel broke again and you were right there with him.

He pulled your lips to his and kissed you deeply. He put everything he could in this kiss, wanting to make your last moments the best he possibly could. Then you moved away too soon and he pulled you to lay in his lap. You curled into him and let out a sob.

  “I’m scared Joel,” you spoke in a whisper, as you looked up at him and the look in your eyes he would never forget as long as he lived.

  “I promise it’s going to okay. You won’t feel anything.” He spoke through his own tears.

  After, you curled back into Joel’s arms, and he held you as close as he could, your limbs all wrapped up in each other. You kept your eyes on him and his on you.

  “I don’t want to go,” you spoke softly.

  “I know. I don’t want you to either. I’m so sorry.”

  “There is nothing to apologize for Joel, I promise.”

  “Just look at me okay? Keep your eyes on me.”

  You simply shook your head and the two of you feel into a silence that ate Joel alive. He wanted to keep talking, to take in your voice as much as he could.

  “I guess this means you can finally look at my sketchbook.”

  Your words slurred now, but you cracked a smile, a chuckle falling from you. Joel couldn’t hold back an answering smile, didn’t stop his own chuckle. It was just how you needed to go out. Smiling and laughing, one last special shared moment. Joel watched as your body fell slack, your eyes closed. Even as your face relaxed, there was still a trace of that smile left and it was all so perfect. You embraced death the same way you embraced life. With a smile. So beautiful. Joel let out a sob, his whole body shaking as he rocked you, his fingers pushing your hair away from the spot he needed to reach. He couldn’t stop the sound of his crying that echoed through the empty building. Once your breathing stilled, he pulled you into him, against his chest and sobbed. Ellie was there a few moments later. She was on her knees in front of him, sobbing as well. Joel and Ellie held you for a long moment, till neither had anything left in them.

  “We can bury her in that small clearing behind the building,” Ellie spoke after several long moments of silence.

  Joel only nodded. Then he stood, taking you with him. He buried you by lantern light. Then sat there the entire night staring at the dirt covering you. When the sun finally made its appearance, it was only fitting that the light seemed to hit your grave first. Ellie appeared and stuck a make shift cross at the head.

  “I thought this was a good place, because the sun will always rise behind her. Illuminating her just like it always did.”

  Ellie’s words were soft and she ran her finger over your name before standing. Joel glanced up at her and Ellie outstretched her hand to him, which he took. He walked a few steps before he looked back at your grave.

  “Goodbye my sunshine.”

  Joel took his first steps out of the building, back on the path he had chosen, without you. He knew it was going to hurt for a long time, but as he and Ellie walked, he knew things would eventually be okay again. You had said that you would always be with him and as the warmth of the sunshine fell over him, he felt your warmth along with it. Joel found himself stopping and facing into this sun, eyes closed and a smile pulling at his lips. You were right, as long as the sun still shown, you would always be here along side him.

Tagged: @jimmythegirl​ @arcadianempress​ @discogrrl​ @immundusspiritu​ @someplace-darker​ @thisis-theway​ @ohpedromypedro​ @scribbledghost​ @fioccodineveautunnale​ @princess-and-pedro​ @phoenixhalliwell​ @littlevodka​ @all-hallows-evie​ @mack4676​ @perropascal​ @audreyshepbvrn​ @mswarriorbabe80​ @kaqua​ @novemberrain221​

[gingiekittycat]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. spread the self-love ❤

@ineffabildaddy tagging you too because you sent me this ask as well (omg thank you both! I love asks 💜💜💜). Like most of us I'm bad at self reccing but I guess that's what this ask is forrrr

It's hard to pick favorites of my babies but I will try....

5) He Can't Stop Thinking About It: The first fic I wrote after GO S2 aired and one I often think of continuing. I'm really proud of the prose and cohesiveness of this one despite it being so short and not a complete plot. 

4) Until the Dreams: I have a soft spot for this fic because the world building was SO fun and because the scene in the church is extraordinarily vivid in my head. 

3) A Walk in the Woods: A wild Sherlock fic appears! Most of my Sherlock fics are so old and I've grown as a writer so much since then, so I would like... not recommend anyone read them. EXCEPT maybe this one. I was experimenting with a new writing style and I think it was really successful. It was the first fic of mine that got a legit rec and review on Tumblr and I got so many amazing comments on it that have sustained me for years. I still go back and reread them when I need a pick-me-up.

2) Gate Duty: aka the fic that was supposed to be a romp and turned into the angstiest fic ever. This was the first time I'd set out to write something humorous, which is a huge challenge for me, and I am still so incredibly proud of myself for doing that. I probably have more pride for this fic than any of my other fics. And the jokes in here still make me laugh. I really want to try writing something funny again. Perhaps the next fic... 

1) We Can't Keep Meeting Like This: Of course. The whole experience of writing this fic was something that I don't think is possible to recreate, at least not on purpose. I feel like I gave a piece of my soul to this work. And continue to give it to each person who reads it.

[accirax]

New Evidence Regarding DRDT's Chapter 2 Killer?

Hello again, everybody! As I continue on my journey of rewatching DRDT via stream, I continue to pick up on more and different things than I noticed the first time. The subject of this theory post is the letter, signed by Eden (even if it wasn't necessarily written by her), that she, Rose, and Whit put together before the second Class Trial began-- I want to take another look at it.

(CW for Despair Time spoilers through 2-10 and mentions of suicide as described in Arturo's secret)

This note is a highly important piece of evidence, and I would expect that anyone invested in trying to solve the case is pretty familiar with its contents. However, I want to highlight exactly what the killer had to know in order to put this note together.

There is someone in the cast who has a motive secret that someone was "responsible for the death of [his/her] sister."

Eden was the recipient of this person's secret.

Eden didn't mean to tell this person, but it slipped out.

This person threatened to do something to Eden.

Arei promised to be Eden's friend.

Like I said, shouldn't be too much of a shock to any of you. However, what I really want to draw attention to is the first bullet point: someone is responsible for the death of his or her sister.

Why am I drawing attention to it? Because the last time Eden or Arturo says anything even close to a family member dying is here... (11:31)

...before Arei arrives. (12:44)

(The last time anyone actually says "sister" is Eden at 11:13.)

But, why is the time of Arei's arrival such an important distinction?

The thing is, most killer theories I've seen for anyone other than Eden or Arturo account for the killer being able to write this note by listening in to the conversation through the door. What I'm trying to say is that there's a contradiction there that I, at least, didn't notice until just now:

If the killer, listening in through the door had to know that the secret Eden received was about Arturo being responsible for the death of his sister, they had to be listening in before Arei arrived, because that is the only time in which Arturo's secret is discussed in enough detail to mention a family member dying. However, when Arei arrived, she had to walk right past and through the door.

This is what the door to the outside of the Infirmary looks like. There is no way in hell that Arei wouldn't have been able to see anyone who was walking by or listening in while she was doing the exact same.

So, what would this mean? Well, it would mean that only Arturo, Eden, and possibly Arei (depending on when she got into earshot of the door) knew enough about Arturo's motive secret before the murder to include all of those details in the note.

Or, at least, that's the boldest version of the claim. However, there are some counterarguments.

The first is that other people could have known if Arturo, Eden, or possibly Arei told somebody else about what happened and mentioned the detail about Arturo's secret. However, I don't believe that any of the three of them would have done that.

Arturo very clearly did not want his secret to get out, and seemingly didn't even want to believe that the death was his fault in the first place. Threatening Eden and making an enemy of Arei also make him look really bad. Both factors combined make it very unlikely that Arturo would want to tell anyone that this happened.

Eden also didn't want to tell anyone about what happened because she was afraid of Arturo finding out, as is clear in the Class Trial. Additionally, if she did want to tell someone so that they could help protect her from Arturo, it probably would have just been Arei. Thus, the information wouldn't have spread any farther than just Arei again.

Arei is definitely the iffiest option, but I still find it hard to believe that she would have told anyone about this occurrence. Firstly, it's already debatable whether Arei heard the specifics of Arturo's secret in the first place. Secondly, Arei probably would have had respect for her new friend and not wanted to share this traumatic event and put Eden in danger. I guess it's possible that Arei could have tried to tell someone about what happened to try to rally a larger movement against Arturo, and then that single person turned around and decided to kill Arei (thus leaving no innocent person who would want to bring up that Arei talked to them in the Class Trial). But, that's... a bit of a stretch. Plus, even if Arei did that, why include the specific details of what Arturo's secret was about?

The second option is that the killer could have planted some kind of bug or other listening device into the Infirmary so that they could overhear the conversation from afar. However, given that we have been given literally no advanced warning that a device like this can even be obtained within the set, much less that anyone actually used one in that location, I'm tossing this objection out, too.

And no, I don't think J's remote could have accomplished something like that, either. Not without an actual listening device already in the room.

The final possibility that I've thought of is that someone could have overheard the conversation from somewhere other than the doorway, which holds a lot more weight. Let's take a look at what's around the Infirmary.

Based on the map, I think the only places that are possibly close enough to the door of the Infirmary are the doors of the Cafeteria or Bathroom (Wash Closet; WC). Recall that, given the private nature of the conversation and that Arei is shown pushing the doors open in the CG, the doors were probably closed. Thus, anyone listening in would have needed to hear the conversation from behind at least one set of closed doors.

Let's start by quickly ruling out the Bathroom. I'm operating on the assumption that, if you can hear something going on in the Infirmary from where you are, people in the Infirmary could hear what's going on in that location, too. If people could hear what's going on in the Bathroom all the way from the Infirmary... Well, that's some pretty shitty architectural design, pun intended.

The Cafeteria is a viable location, though. In fact, we've already confirmed that you can overhear a conversation going on in the Cafeteria from the Infirmary.

So, using the same logic I described earlier, if Teruko could hear something in the Cafeteria from the Infirmary, it stands to reason that you could hear something in the Infirmary from the Cafeteria.

However, this argument still has its issues as well. The thing that Teruko (and Xander) overhear in this scene is, funnily enough, Arei arguing with Eden over not being invited to bake with her. It is described in multiple lines as a very loud event.

While I don't deny that a panicked Eden, a shaken Arturo, and an infuriated Arei could have been quite loud, all of those things, once again, happened after the last time that Eden or Arturo said anything about a dead family member. It's impossible to tell for sure given that the prior part of the conversation isn't fully voice acted, but it's implied that everything Eden says about Arturo's secret is in a regular, or possibly even hushed, tone of voice. If someone only started listening in after things got loud, they would not have heard about Arturo's secret in detail.

Additionally, there are the logistics of who would be sitting in the Cafeteria. Given that nobody else has stepped forward and shared that they overheard this conversation as well (even under potential penalty of death), it seems reasonable to assume that no innocent student overheard what happened in the Infirmary. Therefore, conversely, if any student(s) did overhear the conversation, they were probably involved in the murder somehow. I'm sure you could argue some fringe cases, but this is the general rule.

Unfortunately for this argument, though, the majority of scenes in the Cafeteria have many people present in them, whether due to partaking in a meal or a fight. Overall, that makes it unlikely that someone would be in the Cafeteria by themselves or with only one or two other people. That's not always the case, though, so we can't rule out only a few people being in the Cafeteria!

Can we try to further pin down the time period when this confrontation occurs to try to figure out who could or could not have been in the Cafeteria?

Eden tells us that this confrontation happened on "the day Nico tried to kill Ace" and "the day that Arei and [Eden] had a falling out," which, by my notes, is Day 6. Arturo never challenges this notion, and it also lines up with Eden being afraid that someone is following her on the night of Day 6, so I think that this is true. The canonical events that Teruko takes part in during Day 6 are:

Teruko plays with cacti and gets caught by Eden

J and Arturo, Nico and Ace, and Arei and MonoTV fight

Charles' secret is revealed

Eden tries to host a clock decorating event

Arei has her breakdown and David comforts her

Teruko confronts Rose about her secret

Nico threatens to kill Ace

Nico's secret is revealed and Hu and David comfort them

J drags Teruko into a closet to get away from Arturo

Teruko runs into Eden in the Dress Up Room

Ace is nearly murdered and tries to confront Nico afterward

The events highlighted in green are the only ones of the day that none of Arturo, Eden, or Arei are in. Given that all of them were present for the confrontation, it could not have happened simulataneously with any of the other events.

If the confrontation occurred while Teruko discussed Rose's secret with her (and Nico was there), the killer could really be anyone other than Teruko, Rose, or Nico. Anyone who we didn't have eyes on theoretically could have been in the Cafeteria at that time.

If the confrontation took place while Nico was threatening to kill Ace, however, I doubt that anyone would have been able to listen in on the Infirmary conversation over that cacophony. Therefore, for the sake of someone listening in, that option should also be eliminated. If it took place while Hu and David were comforting Nico, things would look bad for Levi and Rose, as they were both still in the Cafeteria after Teruko left. I know what I said about multiple students in the Cafeteria probably all needing to be collaborators in the murder, but if it was Levi and an asleep Rose, perhaps Levi could have gotten away with eavesdropping by himself?

Despite all of that, though, I think that Arturo's relatively calm and normal (for him) demeanor during the closet scene would speak to the notion that he hadn't just heard that Eden knew about his sister's suicide. Therefore, I believe that the confrontation likely occurred between Teruko's two trips to the Dress Up Room, when she "spent the rest of the day in her room resting." That would line up both with Arturo's claim that he was just "in the middle of something with Julia" (Teruko saw them together just beforehand), give Arei more time to cool down and reflect after her big afternoon, and put the time of the confrontation very close to when Eden is worried about someone following her. (Although, it does give Arturo less time to have "been following" her, assuming that comment was about him.)

That would also give pretty much anyone the chance to have been in the Cafeteria, because Teruko wasn't with anyone at that time. However, it may have been during a pretty dinner-y time, which decreases the odds that anyone would have been in the Cafeteria alone or nearly-alone.

If all that wasn't enough, here's one final wrinkle: whoever witnessed all of this happening would have overheard Arturo threatening Eden and decided not to get involved themselves. It's not a total nail in the coffin, given that I would assume most theories in which the killer overheard the conversation require them to have not attempted to help Eden for one reason or another. But, it is something to consider. Personally, I have a particularly hard time believing that J, #1 Arturo Hater, and Levi, adventurer on the quest of being a good person in the same vein as Eden, wouldn't have tried to stop what was going on if they'd heard.

So, in summary, if the person who wrote the note is not Arturo, Eden, Arei, or someone working very closely with them, they have to be someone who was in the Cafeteria probably alone at the time of the confrontation (assuming Eden's words were even loud enough to be overheard from across the hallway through probably closed metal doors), who decided not to step in to save Eden.

What does that mean? Well, I think that it means that it's very likely that Arturo or Eden is the killer, because having all of those dubiously possible clauses happen to fire off all at once seems implausible to me. But, I already thought that Eden was the killer, so it may just be confirmation bias. Otherwise, since we can't pin down the exact time of the confrontation, I don't think it actually helps us to fully eliminate anyone from the running-- other than, arguably, Teruko. I do urge everyone who thinks that someone other than Eden or Arturo is the culprit to consider this data when coming up with their theories, though.

However, I will end this on the note that all of this deductive reasoning is... incredibly nitpicky. At the end of the day, the crew behind DRDT is very small, and I would understand if the exact details of where and when what parts of Arturo's secret were said or what exactly the Infirmary door looked like were things that they didn't take into account when planning out the murder.

I've seen some critics say about recent YouTube indie animation shows that the long hiatuses between episodes give the shows an unfair disadvantage. That's because the long gaps allow fans to scrutinize every detail of the worldbuilding and characterization and find their holes for far longer than a network television show would between episodes. While DRDT is not exactly one of these indie animation pilots, it is a YouTube show created by a small team of independent creators. I can only imagine that they may be facing the same thing with having to take a break mid-trial. If that's the case, and what I've presented here contradicts what actually happened in Chapter 2, know that I don’t hold it against DRDTdev at all, and don’t think you should, either. I would apologize for pointing out this “mistake,” if you can even call something this minor that.

However, I also think that all of this might be possible, perhaps even on a coincidental/subconscious level, because Eden or Arturo is the killer, and DRDTdev didn't think too much about the logistics of how someone else would overhear the conversation. So for now, I'm considering all of this logic as reasonable theorywork.

If you have any rebuttals though, whether about a specific character or the premise in general, I'd love to hear them! Or, if I missed some detail in the story in general that blows this theory to smithereens entirely, I wouldn't love to hear that, but it would probably be good if I did.

Otherwise, thank you for reading, and have a lovely rest of your day! :D

[serenescribe]

Bit of an odd request but I was listening to a bit of music and I was hit by an idea-

Idk if you know the tale of the Snow Queen, but essentially snow queens powerful ice mirror shatters, all but two pieces are recovered. One shard lands in a boys eye making him turn icey and Queen snatched him up.

However consider- Snow King Silver dragging a “mortal” who has a piece of something that was his. Unaware said “mortal” is actually a fae whose intrigued by this King’s combination of harshness yet tenderness.

the snow prince Twisted Wonderland | 3.9k Summary: A mysterious spell afflicts one Lilia Vanrouge, encasing his heart in frigid cold. AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51960883

FREED FROM UNI, I AM! I actually had this written for a while, but put off posting it to save it for a more appropiate season. I really love Snow Queen retellings and AUs, so this was a LOT of fun to write! Thank you, Olive! :D

(An aside: There are extremely minor spoilers for TWST CH7 in here; they're all under the cut and mentioned in passing. If you're trying to avoid every little detail of CH7, I'd suggest passing up on this!)

In the heat of a sweltering summer that sweeps Briar Valley like a storm, Lilia feels a prick of something sharp enter his eyes.

It happens so fast, so swiftly, that had Lilia not been one of the fair folk, he likely would not have noticed it at all. If he were a human, for example, with their sluggish reflexes and oblivious tendencies, lacking a natural affinity for magic in comparison to the fae, Lilia would have chalked up the prick in his eye to a stray lash falling in, rubbing around until he feels as though he’s flicked it out before moving on with his day.

But Lilia is not human. He is fae.

He knows, at once, despite trying and failing to dig out whatever it is that has entered his eye, that it is not a stray lash or a speck of dust. There is a strange magic emanating off of the tiny sharp splinter, an aura he picks up on in an instant. It’s peculiar, the way it makes him shudder as he brushes against it, the sensation likened to the cold of a dead winter. It is unlike anything he has ever felt before.

But gradually, Lilia has to put a pause on his efforts. He is out on a journey to meet with humans for talks of peace, for their centuries-long wars are slowly crawling to an end. His soldiers look at him in concern, clicking their tongues as they ask him, “General, are you alright? Do we need to stop for a while?”

“I am fine,” Lilia says, waving his hand in dismissal. “I simply got something in my eye, is all.”

It is not wrong to say that, for it is not a lie at all. But Lilia knows as well as anyone else that the strange prick of magic infesting his eye warrants further inspection.

Later, he tells himself, as they continue on with their journey on horseback, for the stalemate in their war has allowed for easier travel through ways of steed.

Time ticks by, the lazy heat of summer dipping into the beginnings of a chilly autumn. But despite the changing seasons, the months that have passed since that fateful summer day, Lilia comes no closer to discovering what it is that ails him so deeply.

He is not oblivious to the changes occurring to him; quite the opposite, in fact. Lilia has carried about him a strange self-awareness about his shifting attitude, only realising the differences in how he’s been acting when he reflects on the changes in hindsight. He’s never exactly been the pinnacle of warmth, and especially not after his beloved friends died, but he’s always held a fondness in his heart for the few he opens up to — namely his second in command, Baul Zigvolt, and the young heir to the throne and son of his deceased friend, Malleus Draconia.

But now?

Lilia stifles a sigh as he reminisces, trudging through the gardens of the castle. The leaves are shifting to warm hues, leaves fluttering in shades of vermillion red and golden yellow, and the fallen leaves give a satisfying crunch when his boots stomp into them.

He exhales, twisting his lips as he raises his head up to the world around him. It looks as it always has, Lilia knows that well. And yet… something about it has felt different since that day.

Everything has begun to feel… boring. Banal and bland at best, wickedly ugly at worst. The crunch of the leaves irritates his ears, the drought of the autumn air makes his nose feel too sore. He turns his nose up at the food the castle staff serve, wrinkling his nose at the pungent smell of a dish he used to love, and he turns down whoever offers him a mug of beer, the foam that guzzles over the rim leaving his hands sticky and gross.

Lilia knows he’s changing. It’s not just his emotions, but also in the way he sees the world — everything is so intimately different in the worst way, and every waking hour he spends feels like a chore, an obligation he drags himself through. Where he used to spend time with Baul and his fellow men, or with Malleus most of all, being the one to raise him since he hatched, he now spends it all… alone.

But knowing something logically is different from knowing it emotionally. There are only so many apologies he can force out with his insincere tongue, schooling his expression into a facsimile of sincere regret. At the end of the day — of each day — Lilia truly feels nothing at all except the vacant void of a howling gelidity, frostbite nipping through his very veins.

At the very least, his men have respected this change, regardless of how perplexed they seem to be. Baul had pulled him aside once or twice to ask if he was feeling fine, but had he not been so preoccupied with his daughter’s sudden interest in the Valley’s newest dentist, a peculiar human who’d chosen to move here, of all places, he would have surely pressed the matter further.

On the other hand…

“Lilia!”

He sucks in a breath at the sound of that familiar voice. Once, it had lightened his heart to be greeted to such a cry upon returning to the castle from one of his many campaigns. But now?

“Hello, Malleus,” Lilia greets, making a deliberate effort to soften his voice as he turns to greet the young prince. Malleus has grown a great deal since he first hatched, now towering slightly above Lilia. Still, the boy has an inclination for continuing to call out to him childishly — something that had endeared Lilia in times past, but now only serves to irritate him by no fault of Malleus at all. “Is there something you require of me?”

“Not require, per se,” Malleus answers, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. He toys with the chain of his cloak with one hand. “I was merely hoping that you could spare the time to join me today for some tea. It has been quite a while, after all. I understand you’ve been busy as of late, but you do not appear to have anything on today, so I thought—”

“You’re rambling again.” Abruptly, Malleus’ mouth snaps shut. Lilia winces internally at his misstep; why had he interrupted the prince like that, in so cold a tone? He sighs. “Apologies. I have been under… a great deal of stress recently.”

“It is no matter, Lilia.”

Well that’s good, at least, Lilia thinks. Averting his gaze, he says, “Unfortunately, I do not believe I can join you today.”

A pause.

“Truly?” He hears it, the surprise in Malleus’ voice, mixing in with a forlorn misery. “I was certain that you had nothing to do today, given your schedule…”

“I—” Pressing his lips together, Lilia thinks before he says, rather stiffly, “It is true that I may not have anything on. But I would like some time to myself if you would be so kind, my prince.”

Ah, another slip up of his. To refer to Malleus by his title rather than his name… the gap between them only widens, and the only reason why Lilia worries about it is because he fears that he may go too far, say the wrong thing when it’s far too late to take anything back. But what’s done is done; Lilia raises his head in time to see Malleus recoil, hurt glimmering in those chartreuse eyes of his.

If Lilia stays longer… will he continue to mess up so miserably?

Before Malleus can speak, Lilia cuts in. “If there is nothing else that requires my attention,” he says, “I would like to return to my walk. Good day, Malleus. Give my regards to the queen.”

And, abruptly, he turns on his heels and leaves.

Oh, Lilia knows that Malleus is displeased. He knows it because, within mere moments, there is a gentle flutter of snow wafting down from the skies. He raises his head, blinking up at the fluttering snowflakes — so delicate and fragile, a byproduct of the prince’s tumultuous emotions, his magic far too powerful for him to properly handle when his emotions explode past his limits.

And yet, when he sets his eyes upon the swirling snow, Lilia feels…

Something.

He raises a hand, watching a snowflake land on his finger — so tiny, so delicate, an eight-pointed speck weaved into such an elegant pattern. It melts almost instantly against the warm flush of his skin — and yet, Lilia is transfixed, mouth parting slightly as he steps back, watching as the snow begins to flurry down faster and faster, cascading through the skies. How long has it been since he’d felt anything other than such apathy, such revulsion, such irritation and disgust? Now, Lilia only feels a sense of childlike wonder.

When was the last time he stopped to stare at the snow as it fell? He cannot remember. Has he ever stopped to observe it like this? Or had war stripped away such inconsequential pastimes from his life?

Lilia does not know how long he wanders around, watching the snowflakes dance until he goes numb, so numb with the cold. He only knows that his fingers are frozen and his lips are blue when he finally returns to the castle in a daze, barely cognisant of the way his entire body is battered, pushed past the natural limitations of his faerie strength.

Winter crashes into Briar Valley like an enemy ambush, a sudden attack spurned from the shadows of nothingness. It is the worst winter they have had in an eternity, everyone says, peering outside the frost-tinted windows as they bask within the toasty walls of the castle grounds; the fire-spells keep everyone warm for as long as they stay inside.

With the thick layers of snow barring any method of safe travel, the ongoing talks of their peace treaties with the humans have been temporarily suspended — more for the children of men’s sakes than that of the fae. If she so willed it, Queen Maleficia could wash away the snow with a flick of her wrist, but such matters, in her opinion, are trivial; nature is not something to be fixed at an instant, so why should she expend her energy for such things?

So during those days, cooped up within the castle walls with little to do, Lilia winds up lounging in the cushioned nook of a window, a little alcove tucked away in a winding tower towards the murky corners of the castle. Few fae ever roam here, save for a scant few servants pattering about cleaning the dusty hallways, and Lilia spends many languid hours with his head pressed against the cool glass, so intensely transfixed on the dancing snowflakes outside.

They are beautiful. Perhaps they are the last bits of perfection he shall ever witness in his life.

He has found no information about the shard that pricked his eye, nor has he found any sort of cure. Lilia has spent many a month searching, sifting through the treasure trove of books in the castle’s library to no avail. He had, at one point, considered going to the queen and telling her of his predicament — “In the month of summer, I believe a magical spell of some kind has afflicted my eye.” — but his own apathy stops him every time; there is simply no point in dragging others into this matter, not because Lilia does not wish to trouble them, but because, try as he might, the larger part of him just doesn’t care.

So, with his head pressed against the cold glass, Lilia closes his eyes and sighs.

The winter solstice is approaching, the longest night of the year. As nocturnal fae, creatures of the night, it is a joyous cause for celebration for their kind. Despite the blizzard that rages across the Valley night and day, many servants, guardsmen, people of their kingdom have been looking forward to the events; the castle town shall be open to all, shielded from the elements. All fae, young and old, can look forward to a night of dancing and festivities, dining on the finest food at the banquets, and celebrating the longevity of the night.

In years past, Lilia would have looked forward to it. But now, like everything else in his life, he feels nothing at all.

“Lilia? Are you here?”

He stifles a groan at the sound of Malleus’ voice. Again and again, the boy continues to scour for him, to seek him out and spend time with him. Lilia tries to indulge him, he really does! But each occasion spent together, needing to force himself to fake sincerity the whole way through — “Oh yes, Malleus, I would like to try the new blend of tea! Thank you kindly for the offer. How is your grandmother doing? I heard she has spent some time with you as of late—”

He can’t stand it. He can’t. It gets harder and harder with each passing day, the chill that permeates his skin sinking deeper and deeper, turning his heart into one carved of ice. His eye prickles with pain whenever he grits his teeth in a false smile; across the table from him, the young prince looks detestable, a selfish beast with far too much time, uncaring of what his servants are subjected to in their indulgence of him.

So he avoids him. As soon as Lilia hears him, he flicks his wrist, a swell of magic surrounding him. Bat-formed, Lilia takes to the rafters, huddling away in the corners of the ceiling as he listens to Malleus come and go. It is only when he hears that familiar voice fading away that he dares to leave, flapping his little wings as he makes a break for another isolated corner of the labyrinthian castle.

The day of the winter solstice arrives, and with it comes the worst blizzard the valley has ever seen.

Cold winds lash against the fortifications of the castle, howling and rattling. Snow crashes from the sky, piling higher and higher upon the dead ground. And yet the castle is alight with the buzz of festivities — the many servants bustle about, wrapping up the last of their preparations, ensuring the banquet is ready with food for all, that the decor floats about in place, that the spells wrapping the castle and its town in a bubble of warmth remain solidly intact.

Throughout the day, Lilia sticks to the shadows, hovering out of sight. Today he feels… he doesn’t know how to describe it. Cold and dead as usual, his heart no longer the warm, affectionate thing it was before — but beneath the thick layers of apathy, there is something nestled beneath: the barest twitch of a muscle, a flutter of something. Lilia finds himself distracted with it the entire day as he meanders about, waiting for the clock to tick to a point when the festivities can start.

And when they do begin, the many residents of the valley teleporting into the castle en masse… Oh, how does Lilia even begin to describe them? Laughter rings freely, the merry melody of music from a string band sweeping the air as dancers circle across the floor. Wine glasses clink as people toast to prosperity and magic, hoping to see the weather ease up soon, and even the queen herself is out and about, walking amidst the crowd, a smile on her face as she mingles with the few faeries bold enough to approach her.

But Lilia—

He feels nothing watching all this. Nothing at all.

And yet… there is something else. That peculiar emotion buried underneath… it sings to him, calls to him, as though someone’s voice were tugging at a string. It only strengthens as the night goes on, likened to an unbearable itch; it is the first blissful thing he has felt in what feels like an eternity, and Lilia—

He misses it. He misses being able to love, to feel something other than apathy at best, and all these horrible, miserable emotions at worst — a repugnance, a rage, an irascibility that sparks every time someone tries to converse with him. Lilia misses being able to love freely, his heart softening as he grows older, brought on by the loss he’s experienced, and the love he mustered up to be able to raise Malleus into the man he is today.

So who can blame him for slipping off, for finding a way out of the castle grounds? Lilia answers the call, sneaking past guards who are far too drunk on wine, laughing and shouting as they play games at their stations. He does not bother with whisking up thick clothes for himself; Lilia merely plunges into the blizzard, battered at once by shrieking winds and a pelting of snow against his face, of a storm so deadly chilling that it would ravage even the strongest of faes.

And yet, he does not feel cold.

He grits his teeth as he presses on, dragging his legs through the thick boughs of snow. Lilia knows not how long it takes for him to trudge, only that it feels like forever — but he knows he is getting somewhere, because with each step he takes, the tugging in his chest grows and grows, the intensity of the emotion exciting him for the first time in months.

Is this the answer to his ailment?

Is there a cure tucked within the heart of the storm?

Lilia takes one step, and then another. He takes a third, and—

All at once, everything stops.

The wind dies away. The blizzard softens to a gentle snowfall. Little flakes of snow dance through the air as Lilia walks forward, head turning to and fro. How peculiar this is! He raises a hand, watching a flake fall into the open palm of his hand and rest there, and it is only the sound of hooves clumping against snow that snaps him out of his reverie.

Lilia turns his head, and sees a child.

A boy, who gazes at him with wide eyes that reflect the northern lights — auroras of shifting veins tinted shades of pink, purple, and blue, lights that Lilia has only gotten the chance to see once during a journey across the world. His hair sweeps across his forehead, locks of the purest silver as though spun from the nighttime stars, streaked with white like the pristine paleness of snow. He sits on a white stag, ice-spun crystals hanging from its glacial antlers, and around him is a fur-lined cloak and hood that swallows him whole, far too big for his tiny body.

Lilia’s breathing hitches—

Because the boy before him is the most beautiful thing he has seen in a long time.

“Hello,” the boy says after a while, a glimmering curiosity in those wide eyes of his. His mount trots forward, bringing him closer. “I’ve never seen you before,” he says, looking at Lilia closely.

At that, Lilia laughs. “I could say the same to you, little one.” He rests a hand on his hips, relishing in the joy, the curiosity, the emotions that flood him in full force; it has been so long! “It is a rare sight to see a young boy riding a stag in a storm like this.”

The boy’s face falls, and Lilia feels… worried. Did he upset him somehow? “I’ve been trying to stop the storm for a while now,” the boy explains, auroral eyes flicking to the storm that rages outside the bubble they’re within, continuing to ravage the valley to no end. “B-but it’s my first time really trying such a thing, and I don’t… really know how.”

Ah, Lilia thinks, finally coming to understand. A lost child. A boy with power over the very elements itself, who can control the season of cold and snow. And yet, who would place such responsibility upon a child, one so very young? He feels the fervent urge to lean in and coddle him, to reassure him that it’s alright, you’re trying your very best, I can help you if you just let me.

And why shouldn’t he do such a thing?

“I can help you, if you would like.”

In a flash, those pupils lock on him. “Would you?” the boy breathes. “I-I wouldn’t want to trouble you, mister—”

“It’s no trouble at all!” Lilia insists, stepping forward with a beaming smile on his face. He reaches out for the stag, feeling the beast nuzzle against the palm of his hand as he strokes it gently. Why should he return to the castle, to that unyielding, endless void of apathy and misery? Here, with the boy with eyes like the auroras and hair like the stars, Lilia feels something — the warm glow of parental affection, already growing so attached to such a young child.

“Then…” the boy mumbles, “would you come with me?”

Lilia only smiles. “Of course.”

And as he clambers onto the back of the steed, he asks, before they leave, one final question: “Pray tell, little one, what is your name?”

“My name?” the boy echoes, furrowing his brows. “I… I don’t know. I can’t remember.”

Lilia arches an eyebrow. What kind of a lonely life must this boy live, if he has not even considered his lack of a name? “Then would you mind if I gave you one?” he offers. Oh, it is such an incredibly forward move to suggest such a thing, with how important names are to his kind. But already, he is attached, his very soul bound to this child who gazes at him in wonder at the possibility of wielding his own name.

And the boy nods.

“Silver,” Lilia says, the name coming to him at once. Like the shine of the gleaming moon, the glitter of the stars, the wispy fall of the snow around them. Love blooms in his chest, the warmth cradling his very soul; Lilia curls his arms around the boy, his body so cold even through the chilling fabric of his cloak, pulling him against his chest into a hug. “That shall be your name.”

“Silver,” the boy echoes, testing it out on his tongue. He tilts his head back, a small smile gracing his rounded cheeks as he looks up at Lilia. “Thank you, mister. Could I ask what your name is?”

“It is Lilia, dear one,” he croons, relinquishing his name without a second thought. The two of them are bonded in mere moments, Lilia filled with a fulfilment he has not felt since that prick of a shard entered his eye.

There is nothing left for him here. That is what he tells himself as Silver leads them away, commanding his steed to take off into a prancing gallop, bursting from the tranquil heart of the storm into the raging blizzard, whisking them back to their home.

(Lilia fails to notice the figure that bursts through the clearing, chartreuse eyes widening in horror as a mouth parts to scream his name. He does not notice the horned boy who shivers in the cold, eyes wide as the wind whips at his long hair, watching the stag prance away, the boy who leads it ripping his guardian away from his grasp.)