#( i tried to portray this as best as i possibly could.

[altruisticalastor]

↳˗ˏˋAlastor x Readerˊˎ˗ ↴

☒ Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six

☒ Summary: Sure, he owned you. But just because you were contractually obligated to him didn't mean you had to play nice. Alastor couldn't force you to reciprocate those strong desires of love. No matter how hard he tried.

☒ Warnings: fem!reader she/her pronouns used, hurt with comfort! call back to some scenes from part three, crying, hugs, kisses, slight toxic themes, lovesick!alastor, happy ending, different pov's and scene jumps are separated by the boarders to make it easier to follow!

☒ Word Count: 2,672

You stumbled back to your room with an uneasy feeling pooling in your gut. Alastor wasn't a man who portrayed such extreme emotions the way he just did right before your very eyes. The sight of his smile melting off his face felt immoral. 

Your mind lamented with turmoil. 

Everything Alastor said to you was outlandish, far-fetched. Yet he spoke with such conviction, such desperation. 

This man was nothing more than a stranger to you, yet some of the things he recounted filled in those blanks you harbored through life and death.

You had been drawn to Alastor's voice since day one. Something about him did feel... nostalgic.  

And when you danced, it was effortless.

But could that just be chalked up to a coincidence?

You shook your head to rid yourself of those pestering contemplations. There was no point in dwelling on it now. At the end of the day, Alastor was a ruthless overlord. He wasn't capable of love. 

Sure, he owned you. But just because you were contractually obligated to him didn't mean you had to play nice. Alastor couldn't force you to reciprocate those strong desires of love. 

No matter how hard he tried.

And after the show he put on only moments ago... you felt more terrified of him than ever before. 

There is nothing more merciless than a man crazy in love.

Alastor stayed up all night mulling over all that transpired. He thought and thought and thought until his mind went numb.

What could he do to make you remember him?

It's not like he could leap back to earth circa 1933 with you and retrace your steps. That world he knew was long gone. 

Love is patient but waits for no one. 

Alastor lifted himself off the carpet on shaky legs. He haphazardly smoothed out his coat and tidied his bowtie. His shadows enveloped him within a moment, ferrying him to the bar located in the foyer. 

Husk jumped when he heard the radio warble in Alastor's voice. Demanding a tall glass of rye. The fluffy fellow knew better than to involve himself in Alastor's business. Husk poured his boss a fine glass of whiskey before turning his back. Continuing to scrub the pile-up of glasses. 

"Husker. Let's say you wanted somebody to remember something that was once near and dear to their heart. What do you presume would be the best possible antidote to bringing that fond memory back to life?"

Husk turned to face Alastor hesitantly. Taking note of the empty glass sitting in front of The Radio Demon. "Well, shit, I don't really know about that," Husk paused, refilling his Boss' glass. "I mean if I were the one who forgot, I guess a solid reminder of that missing somethin' would get the gears turnin'." 

Alastor's gaze was pointed, crimson eyes swirling with a sadness Husk had never seen from the feared demon. Husk cleared his throat before adding, "Like a photo or... an heirloom? Get what I mean?" 

Husk watched as Alastor's shoulders rose from their slumped position. His cynical grin morphed into something sharper, and his eyes now had that familiar gleam of assuredness. "Husker, my good man! You're not as witless as I thought. Thanks for the perspicuity and rye!" And just like that, The Radio Demon was gone. Whisked away by those ghastly shadows of his. 

Husk wasn't sure what he just unlocked for that evil man, but he hoped that whatever it was, it didn't involve him.

Husker's words replayed in Alastor's mind.

"A photo or... an heirloom?"

Husker, you mindless genius.

Alastor knew now what the key to unlocking your memories would be. 

And it was in the shape of a heart, threaded on a silver chain with a photo of him and yourself nestled inside.

The locket he gifted you for your one-month anniversary. The treasure that was wrongfully swiped by that bitch, Elaine. 

It was the catalyst for your first murder. The reason you probably sunk to hell, to begin with.

Alastor had no doubt that Elaine burned in hell along with the rest of them. She was a wretched wrongdoer. Now all he needed to do was locate her. 

Alastor had his fair share of connections in hell. One simple lift of his cane and the miserable sinners were coughing up information. A timid soul mumbled about hearing of an Elaine that fit Alastor's description. Fearfully pointing The Radio Demon in the right direction. 

Alastor chuckled to himself when he realized Elaine was shacked up at Valentino's studio— of all places. He recalls you telling him how Elaine boasted about one day becoming a picture star. 

Guess that little dream of hers came true in the most unconventional fashion. 

Alastor grimaced as the smell of sex and booze wafted past him the moment he stepped foot in the studio. Most of the bystanders turned to get a good look at The Radio Demon. Their pitiful faces were riddled with fear and awe. Probably wondering what an overlord like him was doing in a place like this. 

Alastor scanned the room begrundgly. Scrunching his nose in displeasure from the lewd displays surrounding him. Suddenly, a blonde broad caught his attention. She was sitting across the room, smoking a cigarette in her delicates. Presumably waiting til her shoot began. 

Her features were pouty and more pig than woman, but he was most certain that she was Elaine. 

Alastor approached her without hesitation, slamming his cane harshly against the dirtied floor to grab her attention. "Elaine! Oh, how unpleasant it is to see you again!" Alastor's voice was laced with faux excitement. He crossed an arm behind his back, puffing out his chest with pride. The surly woman glared at him while taking a drag of her cig. "Who the fuck are you?" 

Alastor placed a hand over his chest in mock offense. "How could you forget the face of the man who corroborated your murder? I know you weren't always the brightest bulb in the box, but I mean, come on now, Elaine..." Alastor clicked his tongue in disapproval, relishing in the fear cascading over her face.

"Look, I don't want no trouble, mister." Elaine flicked her cigarette to the side, not caring where it landed, before putting her hands in front of her chest. Her own way of waving the white flag. "Well, that's great news! Because nor do I! However, I do want my darling's locket back."

Alastor's voice became low at the end of his sentence as his irises morphed into radio dials. Elaine leaned back in her chair, trembling like a leaf, as she brought her shaky hands up to her neck. She looped her fingers around the chain adorning her throat, untucking the locket from her delicates. Alastor's eyes widened at the sight of his beloved's heirloom in the hands of this wretch. 

"Look, I didn't mean anything by it when I swiped it from your little princess. I was just jealous, alright? Now, just— take it and go!" She tugged at the chain, breaking the locket off her neck before shoving it in front of herself. Dangling it right before Alastor's very eyes.

Alastor studied the piece of precious metal before flickering his gaze back to the cowering woman. "Tell me this, Elaine. Why did you keep the locket all this time, going so far as to bring it to hell with you after death?" Elaine looked taken aback by the inquiry. She scoffed, face turning red. 

"I wanted her life, okay? She had everything I wanted. The beauty, the brains, the beau. I knew if I had this locket and had it on me always, your little princess wouldn't have been able to find it if she went snooping through my things. If I couldn't have her life— then I had to have something of hers. Something that I knew would devastate her if she lost it." Alastor let out a wicked chuckle from Elaine's confession. He swiped the locket out of her grubby paws. 

"Elaine, you... could never be her. And you are quite lucky that I have better things to do today than waste another second on you. If that wasn't the case, I would have taken great pleasure in killing you myself this time." Alastor turned on his heel, shooting her a hostile glare from over his shoulder before taking his leave. 

"Bye-bye now, Elaine! Glad to see your aspirations of becoming a picture star finally came to fruition for you. Ha HA!"

The atmosphere in the room shifted the second Alastor stepped past the Hotel threshold. You were at the bar with Angel, having a well-needed drink, when a commotion at the front doors stole your attention. You nearly gave yourself whiplash with how quickly you turned your head in his direction. Already dizzy enough from the alcohol coursing through your bloodstream.

Alastor lit up when your eyes met his. He rushed over to the bar, wasting no time placing his hands on the stool you were perched on. He spun your chair, forcing you to face him, smiling with more excitement than you'd ever seen from him. "Alastor- what the fuck are you doing?" 

You peered up at him, eyebrows knit in annoyance from how he rudely pulled you away from the drink you were nursing. Alastor fell to his knees and leaned forward, face only centimeters from yours. "On our one-month anniversary, I gave you a locket..." Alastor's voice was laced with merriment, and you couldn't help but roll your eyes.

"Not this again- Alastor, please! Give it up." You pleaded, not noticing how Angel and Husk began to back away from the scene. Not wanting any involvement in this lover's quarrel. 

"But your bitch of a friend Elaine stole it from you, and you never ended up getting it back from her." You watched Alastor stuff a hand into his pocket, pulling out a shiny heart-shaped necklace. "So, I took matters into my own hands and got it back for you."

Alastor's free hand reached for yours. He flipped your palm to face the ceiling before placing the locket in your hand. You examined the piece of jewelry carefully, lifting it closer to your face to get a better view. "Open it." Alastor sounded positively impatient with excitement.

You gave him a weary look before thumbing over the clasp that kept the two metal hearts conjoined. You opened it slowly, and your breath hitched from what the tiny heirloom revealed.

It was a photo of a man and a woman. They appeared to be dancing in the photo. Limbs intertwined, both smiling from ear to ear. 

You weren't sure why, but the photo made your heart stutter. And the longer you stared into this moment forever captured in time, the blurrier it appeared. 

The feeling of Alastor's thumbs swiping along your cheeks broke you from your daze on the aged sentimental photo. He cooed at you, with much gentleness pooling in his crimson orbs.

Oh... you were crying? 

Alastor slowly took the locket from your grasp. You watched him expectantly as his hands reached beyond your shoulders, delicately wrapping the chain around your neck. Alastor skillfully clasped the necklace shut, restoring it to its rightful place against your sternum. 

The moment Alastor secured the clasp, you felt a surge of euphoria. A vermillion aura surrounded you, and your heart began to pound fiercely against your ribcage, echoing in your ears. That hole you had in your center for all these years began to flood.

You were motionless as your eyelids fluttered shut. In your mind, your life began to play out before you; like one of those old-timey picture shows. 

Moments from when you were alive and well flickered in your subconscious. All the pleasant memories and promises for the future were with him; With Alastor. 

In a wink, it all came back to you. Every touch, every laugh, every dance- every kiss. A groove in your heart that was wholly irreplaceable; you finally felt it again. 

The tears continued to trickle past your lashline as the sequence of core memories coursed through your head. Distantly, you could hear that familiar radio static hum. 

Your eyes flickered wildly back and forth behind your closed lids as your personalized picture show slowly came to an end. As you flitted yourself back into reality, the radio static warble grew louder. Overpowering the sound of your heartbeat; that thumped in your ears. Unhurriedly, your eyelids fluttered open.

Your world was smiling at you, and you smiled right back. 

"Hi..." You muttered weakly, laughing through the quiet sobs. Alastor continued to thumb away your tears. Crimson orbs softened as they met yours.

"Hello, my darling." His voice sounded better than it did moments before he bestowed the locked upon you. But maybe that's because you finally knew why his voice reminded you of home. 

It was because Alastor was your home.

"You waited for me all this time? Even after I was so cruel to you- why?" You brought your hands up, cupping his cheeks with care. The feeling of his cold skin underneath your fingertips was electrifying. Your body and mind had been deprived of him for far too long; each touch pleasantly overwhelmed your senses.

"Because, my dear, you are everything to me. I would have waited a century more for you if need be. Your cruel behavior only ignited my desire to reclaim your memories further. Nothing you do could ever make me stop loving you."

A lump formed in your throat from his admission. He spoke with such devotion. Alastor gazed at you; as if you hung the stars in the midnight sky. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, sliding yourself off the bar stool. Opting to find comfort beneath Alastor's embrace.

He wasted no time pulling you into his chest, cradling you in his arms as your knees collided with the floor. Alastor nestled his nose into the crook of your neck, and you could feel his smile against your skin. "Oh, how good it is to be home." He mumbled against the base of your throat. 

You pulled back to admire his countenance, arms still weaved around his shoulders. Alastor's eyes flickered from yours to your lips. You took the hint, bearing the initiative in closing the gap. You felt heat surge through your chest when your lips touched his. Alastor's mouth moved in tandem with yours. The kiss was tender and needy; as if it was the first and last embrace you ever shared. 

Alastor's hands explored lower. Large palms smoothing down the sides of your arms, then your waist. Only pausing in his exploration when his hands met your hips. Alastor squeezed them firmly, pulling your body flush against his as he deepened the kiss. Your body felt light and airy, and it wasn't from the alcohol you indulged in tonight. 

The kiss felt like it lasted for an eternity. You only pulled away from your lover when your lungs began to scream for air. "I'll never let you out of my grasp ever again. I plan to keep you close for the rest of eternity. Just as I planned all along, my darling." Your heart lodged itself in your throat from his words. You nodded fervently in agreement as a chuckle escaped you.

"I'll hold you to it, my love." Alastor's grin softened the longer he gazed into your eyes. Slowly, he rose to his feet, lifting you to yours by the grasp he had on your hips. You let out a gasp as Alastor hooked his arms under your thighs, lifting you off the ground. He held you bridal-style, making quick strides through the foyer and up the stairs. 

"Al! What are you doing?" You giggled, holding onto his shoulders tightly as he skipped two steps at a time, all thanks to his long legs. You admired his visage from this angle, enjoying the cheerful glint that swirled in his eyes. "Taking us somewhere more private, darling. We have a lot of lost time to make up for!"

yall want smut for the next part or..............

tags; @danveration @celestial-vomit @jyoongim @stygianoir @polytheatrix @mmik3yy @littlebullofblythe @cxrsedwxrlds @lillithhearts @nogiggleonlybitter @minniemumbles @chewbrry @lbcreations-blog @nonetheartist @call-me-nyxx @zombiesnips-blog @stawberrypimpsimp @wonderlandangelsposts @villxinmiixx @persephoneblck @maxlynn17 @littledolly2345 @karolinda007-blog @falling-endlessly @greekyoghurtwithberries @bladeismine @aloraaaxcrystalzx @doctorswife221b @scaramoochiie @fairyv-ice @chirikoheina @veroneverleft @tired-of-life-86 @saccharine-nectarine @c-thegingergirl @tsunaki @geminixbunny @softangxlicss @alleystore @sirens-and-moonflowers @fairyv-ice @honey132 @alastorsaries @zenix108 @michi-keinz @fokrilove @yourdoorisunlocked @willowshadenox @izakyun @fangirlbitch02 @kyana-chan @aquariaries @sincerely-lorely @maxlynn17 @ivebeenthearchersstuff @kurinhimenezu @memospacexx @night-shadowblood-writes2 @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 @uhhhimbored @chaotic-smol @shoyosdoll @alitaar @resident-cryptid @nijiru @sunshinesetsstuff @toby33b @th3casscad3

[monstersholygrail]

I’m making a nest from the twigs the birds give me. Then I’m carving big wooden eggs and leaving them in the nest. How do the bird hybrids react?

Tell me, wise one, of the bird sluts.

That’s the the best thing anyone’s ever called me omg

You appreciated the nesting gifts the all male Bird Hybrid Colony gave you more than you could possible portray. So you tried to do the next best thing. You crafted a beautiful nest from all the twigs and decorations you had gathered after every class over time.

When it was done you placed it carefully in your office. Always wanting to remind yourself how thoughtful your class was. But something was missing. The nest needed eggs now so you made some wooden eggs to go inside it.

You hadn’t thought anything of it then. And you still didn’t think of it when you sent one of the bird hybrids into your office to get a CD for the next dance you were going to be teaching.

The bird hybrid’s eyes widen upon seeing unattended eggs in your nest, not realizing they weren’t real. Excitement fluttered in his chest and he released a series of loud chirps to alert the others that someone had finally done it! One of them had finally gotten their mate to lay eggs. But it wasn’t clear who.

They return with your music quickly, handing it to you and leaning in to nibble affectionately at your neck. So proud of you for laying such perfect eggs. Their feathers ruffle as they face the colony who’s equally as excited, all of them wanting to see and care for the eggs.

One of the bird hybrids excused themselves to the bathroom, the urge to care for the eggs too great. So they go to your office instead, settling on top of the eggs to keep them warm and make sure they’re able to hatch. But they don’t want you to worry. You already did the hard work, now it’s their turn to do their part.

It happened so flawlessly that you barely realize what’s happening throughout the class. One of the bird hybrids would excuse themselves to the bathroom, they’d be gone for a period of time, and then just as they’d return another would excuse themselves.

“What did you guys do, stop at a bird bath on the way here?" You joke as you begin to notice how many of them are going to the bathroom.

The bird hybrids didn’t know whose sperm had been lucky enough to create eggs for you to lay. But no matter who it was they all love you, their lovely mate, just the same. So they all wanted to help care for the eggs. They hadn’t realized how strange their behavior must’ve seemed though.

Looking to investigate what’s going, realization dawns on you seeing a bird hybrid laying on top of wooden eggs.

“Aw, guys, those aren’t real,” you say sheepishly. Feeling bad for having to break the news to them. One of the bird hybrids wraps their arms around you from behind, nuzzling into your hair and lovingly grooming you.

“What do you mean, mate? The eggs are right there,” he rasps in your ear, his hardening cock grinding into round bottom, already looking to fill you with more of their cum and lay more eggs. You moan, feeling his length teasingly slide between your thick thighs

“I-I made them out of wood. Humans don’t lay eggs. We have to get pregnant,” you rush out breathlessly, your body buzzing with arousal as you subconsciously meet the hybrid’s thrusts.

The other bird hybrid gets up and checks the eggs himself. Seeing you were right, all their feathers ruffle in frustration. Realizing they hadn’t been successful after all.

“Well then I guess we’ll all just have to try again and again. Filling your tight cunt with our seed till one load sticks and takes root inside of you,” he growls in your ear.

Then in a flash they’re throwing your clothes off, revealing your perfectly plump body to them. Their mouths water as their claws grab at your supple flesh. Bending you over your desk they present your soaked pussy to the colony and they all watch as you clench desperately around nothing.

The bird hybrids practically fight and claw their way to get to you first, but when one of them finally sinks deep inside you, the other watch eagerly as you cry out, your body spasming. Each of them takes their time, thrusting inside your pulsating pussy with a firm precision. Their aim to breed you clear in every snap of their hips. Before the next one gets to you with the same goal in mind.

You’re a wreck as they brutalize your fat cunt, filling you up again and again with your cum. You can feel it gush out of you and onto your thighs with each plunge of their cock, only for them to fuck what they can back up inside you and replace the load with their own.

Helpless moans and cries of pleasure leave you. You try your best to writhe against them, either trying to gain a brief break or to jerk back and meet their thrusts. But either way none of them plan on letting you move. Their claws digging into your wide hips and slamming you back on their hard lengths.

You explode over another one of their cocks, roughly clawing at your own desk to help ground you. Their love and care for you brought them to each make sure you came multiple times on their cocks, the way you clenched around them always bringing them to finish. Sagging against the desk you wait for the next to come.

But instead the bird hybrids, having been satisfied they’d managed to breed you, come up and start cleaning you up. Nibbling and kissing at your soft skin. While others nuzzle and whisper in your ears how good you were for them and how perfectly your belly is gonna look all pregnant.

The bird hybrid from earlier grins at the fucked out state of you. He crouches down, his wings flapping happily as he sees your belly already rounded full of their cum. He pushes down on it, chuckling as some spills out of you causing you to weakly moan.

“Looks like it’s beginning to take root already. But if it doesn’t there’s certainly no harm in doing this all over.” His eyes look up and down your form, already hungry for more of you.

Letting you know he is ready to have you in every possible way, spilling his hot semen deep inside your cunt until you’re finally all good and bred. Not willing to stop until they’ve don’t just that.

[beneathashadytree]

DEVOUT WORSHIPPER - SYLUS QIN X READER

Warnings : suggestive at most (but not explicit), reader has lipstick applied but still gender-neutral!

Genre : spicy domestic fluff <3

Word count : 0.7K words

Additional notes : Just for context, Sylus and the reader are living together but often go periods without seeing each other due to work🙏🏽 Also, let me know what you think of Sylus being portrayed as Italian/speaking Italian here! Hope you guys enjoy this after the gorgeous new update🫶🏽

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Masterlist

“You’re exquisite.”

Sylus’ soft mumble was not left unheard. In fact, it was impossible to not notice anything about him when he was this close; so close that they could see every blemish on his fair skin, and count every delicate eyelash that fluttered lazily with every slow, seductive blink of his eyes.

They’d never get enough of his eyes, would they?

Eyes the colors of the richest blood rubies; that bled passion and want so true it warmed them to their very core. Maybe they’d never admit that their flushed cheeks weren’t just because of his enamored compliments, but also as a natural reaction to looking into those eyes they could never resist.

“That so?” they hummed, voice smaller than they thought it would come out. Somehow, there was a sanctity to this moment that meant that only hushed whispers were to be spoken between them, even if they were all alone in the safety of their own home.

Sylus huffed out a laugh that was achingly tender, all parts adoration and worship—and yet there was that same arrogance in his eyes that spoke volumes of his sheer confidence in his words. No one believed what he said more than he did. “Mm. You’ll have to take my word, tesoro.”

How sweet it was to hear from him, the endearment lilting and the syllables curling almost intimately on his tongue. Even sweeter it was, when his finger reached out to smudge at the edges of blood-red lips like his own eyes, his touch almost reverent.

“Silver tongue,” they breathed out, their gaze dropping to his sinful lips, their corners raised in an affectionate half-smile he’d only ever bare to them. Just them. It was their sacred secret to stow away between their ribs. “You’re just trying to lure me into staying at home with you.”

“I can’t say that it would be a bad idea.” The faux innocence on his face as his eyes flickered to their parted lips was almost laughable. “The place would miss you, after all.”

No matter how much they tried to play coy, Sylus could always outfox them in that game of wits—but his desires were always spelled out on his face, and this time they threatened to consume them whole.

Arching their brow at him, they reached out to clasp their hand around his wrist, tugging it away from their lips and instead taking their sweet, sweet time to interlace their fingers in an old, almost-sensuous dance that they’d mastered together, completely in step with each other. “Just the place?” they asked, a challenge hidden between every word and the next.

Something dark oozed through his eyes; a flame sparking to life behind his false composed mask. It made them feel a little smug, knowing that he’d never be able to douse that fire; that he’d always want them so terribly.

“You love making things difficult, don’t you, sweetie?” His voice was a little more gruff now, a sharpness there that reminded them that he was at his wits’ end, and that his nerves were fraying every time he was in their presence—in only the best, most delicious ways possible. “No. Not just the place.” Thumb brushing against the back of their hand, he leaned in to whisper in their ear. “Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“I can’t think of anything else that could convince me to stay,” they began to say as they toyed with the chain on his collar, “After all—”

Sylus pulled them onto his lap as he collapsed onto the bed, without even waiting for them to finish that sentence. It seemed that they’d worn out what little patience he’d had left, and he was too far gone in his amorous haze to comprehend a single word more.

“Mi dispiace,” he managed to say, though his chest heaved with the effort of restraint, and his irises were almost completely black as he stroked the small of their back with a practiced hand that had memorized every curve and expanse of skin. “I’ll come up with a better bargain next time. Now, I’m a little preoccupied with you.”

Well. Dinner could wait, they suppose.

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[lumi-nescentt]

Heaven Is A Place On Earth With You

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

Warnings: slight sexual joke at some point

Words: 1.8k

Summary: The Max everyone knows is a lot different from the Max he is behind closed doors. That's even truer when he hasn't seen you in a while and all he wants is to spend time doing nothing with his girl.

A/N: I'm procrastinating for my finals so I'm going to try to finish all the WIP I currently have :) hope you like max being hopelessly in love bc that's what you're getting here

Max was known for being blunt, sometimes rough which on track made him almost unstoppable. However, the Max you knew was way different. He treated you with such care and delicacy, it was sickeningly sweet. From the moment you two had started dating, he had done his best to show you that he wasn't what the rest of the world portrayed him to be. That he was worthy of the affection you felt for him.

Slow mornings with Max were your favourite moments. He always woke up before you but he never dared to leave the bed before you wanted to. He didn’t particularly liked laying around but there was something about being close to you that made him want to stay there forever. You looked so peaceful cuddled up against him, he wouldn’t have dared to wake you up anyway. He much preferred admiring you until you woke up and he could finally talk to you.

When your eyes started fluttering awake, the first thing you were aware of was the arm around your waist. Max's hand was on your naked back, keeping you as close to him as possible. The weight of it was comforting and it was always the first thing you noticed when he came back late at night while you were already asleep, from races you couldn’t have gone to. You liked knowing that even when he was exhausted from all the travelling, he still took the time to nestle your body against his before falling asleep with you between his arms. 

As soon as he realised you were awake, Max started peppering the side of your face with kisses which made you giggle and look up at him. There was something really special about the look you gave your boyfriend when you were slowly coming back to reality that he loved. It always looked as if you were falling back in love with him all over again in a matter of seconds. You had the softest look on your face and as far as heart eyes went, yours were probably the most intense someone ever had until Max looked at you with the same intensity and his entire face lit up, his eyes twinkling with pure adoration before he broke the silence and finally spoke.

-" Good morning schatje" he greeted you with a kiss on your forehead

-" Hi Maxie" you mumbled, still sleepy

-" Did you sleep well ?"

-" I alway sleep well when you're here so yes. How about you ?"

-" Great, I had the best human heater next to me."

-" Do you have anything planned today ?"

-" Nope, I'm all yours. Did you want to do anything special ?"

-" Just wanted to stay with you."

-" Do you want me to make breakfast and then we can go walk on the beach ?"

-" That sounds good."

-" Lets go then." Max said, trying to stand up from the bed but you had moved your body half on top of him

-" Schatje, if you want breakfast you're gonna have to get off me."

-" I thought you liked me on top ?" you winked, making the Dutch man blush

-" I do but I also like you alive and well fed so hop off please."

With a groan, you turned on your side, liberating Max who stood up. He tried to convince you to follow him in the kitchen but you needed a few more minutes so after kissing your forehead, Max went to cook breakfast alone. He didn’t mind doing it on his own. Taking care of you when he was here was one of his favourite things to do just to see you smile at him and have you kiss his cheek as a thank you. It was all worth it for your reaction alone. 

Five minutes later, Max felt a pair of arms snake around his waist and your face pressing against his back. He still hadn’t put a shirt back on after sleeping in boxers all night. He never wore much to bed since you were always warm enough for him to sleep almost naked and not freeze. So when you pressed small kisses against his shoulder blades, he almost let go of the coffee cup he was holding, your breath tickling his skin. 

-“ Behave please, schatje.” Max smiled, patting your hands that were resting on his stomach

-“ ‘m not doing anything.” you answered, tightening your grip around him

-“ Not yet but I know you might try something so if you want to eat decent food please wait until I set everything on the table.” 

-“ Can’t promise anything.” Max laughed at your answer before going back to what he was doing. 

Since you had moved in with him, Max found out that he actually didn’t hate slowing down for a bit and enjoying the little things. He just never had someone he loved to do it with until you came along. Now, he loved just hanging around in the apartment, bodies dancing around each other in the kitchen when you were both doing your own thing but still enjoying each other’s presence. He found solace in doing the most mundane things with you. He wouldn’t dare to say it out loud but as long as you were together, everything felt like an adventure. 

Enjoying breakfast together while looking out the balcony was a great way to start the day according to him, maybe even his favourite. You were apparently in a good mood too judging by how playful you were being, stealing bits from his plate with a grin and teasingly nudging his shoulder with yours. If it had been anyone else, Max would have protested a little but there was not much he would get angry at you for so he let it slide, stealing something back for good measure. 

He could have completely forgotten about the walk on the beach he had promised if you hadn’t rushed to get ready as soon as you had finished eating. He followed you with a laugh, trying not to blush at the sight of you in a pretty sundress with your hair falling down your shoulders. You looked radiant with joy and it suited you all too well. Max was glad his actions made you feel this way. In fact, he wasn’t just glad, no. Max was proud to be able to make you happy in a way no one else did because if at first he hadn’t thought himself capable of fully giving you the love he thought you deserved, he now knew that you wanted whatever he was willing and capable of giving you. 

You were more than content with the amount of love you received from your boyfriend and you made sure to make it known and to return the attention because despite his tough exterior, you had been around the Dutchman for long enough to know that there was nothing that touched him more than being loved openly and freely, without conditions. 

The car ride to the beach was spent in comfortable silence, Max’s hand on your thigh as you looked out the window, feeling the wind caress your face. Max tried to steal a few glances your way while he drove but his eyes never stayed long. He was way too careful when he was the one responsible for your well-being. You had tried teasing him about it to make him relax but he was adamant that as your boyfriend, he had to make sure you were as safe as possible. 

You couldn’t really argue with that so you let him be, knowing that as soon as he’d be done driving, you’d be able to play around again. So the moment the car was finally parked, you were bolting out the door, screaming that the last one in the water would be a terrible loser. It didn’t take long for Max’s brain to compute but by the time he started running, you already had a good lead.

However, you hadn’t considered the fact your boyfriend was a literal athlete and that his cardio was considerably better than yours. Before you could even reach the water, Max had catched up to you and effortlessly picked you up, still going towards the sea with a grin on his face. 

-“ Please Max, put me down. Don’t throw me in.” you screeched as he kept jogging lightly

-“ You should have thought about that when you cheated, you little minx.” Max responded, poking your side with his finger as you laughed 

-“ But I had to, otherwise I had no chance of winning. You’re too quick for me, Mr. World Champion” 

-“ Flattery won’t get you anywhere now, schatje. It’s too late”. Max smirked before dropping you in the water, jumping right behind you as you swam further away, your boyfriend close behind

-“ I hate you so much.” you lied, wrapping your arms around his neck, trying your best to swim at the same time before Max wrapped your legs around his waist, bringing you even closer

-“ For the record, I might have let you win if you hadn’t cheated or made me watch you undress and run at the same time.” the Dutchman smiled, pecking your lips 

-“ Who said I lost ?” 

-“ You were the first one in the water, baby. That makes you the loser of your own game.” 

-“ Maybe it was my plan all along…”

-“ y/n, you’re the sorest loser I know. There’s no way you’d plan to lose.”

-“ Well, I don’t care. I’m in your arms right now and we’re at this beautiful empty beach. I intend to make the most of this situation I definitely planned for and kiss you until you get sick of it.”

-“ Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night.” Max chuckled, his whole face lighting up “ We’re going to be here for a while then because I don’t think I could ever get tired of kissing you.”  

-“ Alright then, the first one to stop is a terrible loser.” you smiled with a toothy grin

-“ Schat… Are you sure you can handle another loss today ?” 

-“ Bring it on, lover boy. Less talking, more kissing.”

-“ You don’t have to ask me twice.” he mumbled before pressing his lips against yours, brushing your wet hair away from your face

Maybe you lost the first game but when a family arrived at the beach and their little boy somehow recognised your boyfriend from afar and practically screamed that Max Verstappen was here, Max had to let you go. He wasn’t a fan of PDA, even less when it was around fans but in that moment, he wished he was just to erase the smug grin on your face when he lost the stupid challenge you had set. 

Before heading over to see the boy, Max made sure to peck your lips. He bit your lower lip slightly, not missing the way your face flushed when he did before asking for a rematch when you were back home. You already loved how the day had started but now you were sure that the rest of it would be just as good, if not better. This was just another thing to add to the list of why being home together was your favourite place to be.

[animasola86]

F o r g e t f u l 🎀 1 / 4

Your roommate has a dirty secret - you. The only problem is: you can't remember anything about that. And there might be even more problems when you realize just what kind of relationship you have with her.

a dominant woman X a submissive girl with a memory problem

WARNINGS: F!Reader-insert! NSFW! Explicit sexual content. Mistress/pet. Domme/sub. Memory loss. Manipulation. Gaslighting. Praise kink. Dubcon elements. Fingering. Sex toys. Object insertion. Bondage. (More tags on AO3.) WORDS: 5.5k

A/N: Remember: if these tags are not for you, you better turn back now! If you know my other stories, you may be used to my very explicit writing style, but this is still some of the darker stuff, somewhat. It's rough, but there is an actual wlw story buried beneath the depravity, I swear! And: THIS IS FICTION! Nobody got hurt in the making of this series. (By the way, the header is just for aesthetics, it's up to you to decide how Mistress looks like and obviously Reader looks however you want to insert her. I tried my best to keep her neutral.) Another note on the fandom tags: I write characters who could be anyone, so I thought about some kick-ass ladies who may fit the role here. I'm sorry this is not about your favorite character, but maybe it can still somewhat fit? Give it a try :)

1 🎀 2 🎀 3 🎀 4

You're staring at the pictures with your lips parted and trembling, your cheeks warm, a strange tingle in your nape. Your hands are shaking as you file through the prints. They look weirdly professional, good lighting, even better angles, the background is blurry while the focus lies directly on...

You.

It's you in those photographs, you in various positions, you in different outfits... or with nothing at all hiding your curves. Some pictures are just showing certain body parts, some angles you've never seen of yourself, some more flattering than others.

But whatever you see, you can't hide the fact that it arouses you. It's not the subject, you're usually quite self-conscious about taking nudes of yourself (even though you gotta admit that these look quite well made, so surreal that you feel almost proud of yourself), it's actually two things that make your core throb:

One: you are in clearly compromising positions, bent over with your legs spread wide, on your back, bound to the bed with cuffs around your wrists and ankles, or tied up with soft-looking rope in intricate patterns, your body composed in ways you haven't thought possible (or comfortable).

And two: you are always stuffed. There are various objects sticking out of both your cunt and your ass, sometimes there's even something in your mouth that's held open by a spider gag. It varies too, not all holes are occupied all the time, all at once, in some pictures it's just one and it's particularly stuffed and stretched (is that an eggplant?).

Your body reacts more and more as you flip through the thick printed paper. The worst thing about it all:

You can't remember a goddamn thing!

Shame and arousal course through you as you stare at yourself. But you can't put them down, can't stop. In this photo, you're wearing a black leather harness that accentuates your breasts. You're standing, with wide legs, a spreader bar attached to your ankles. You're blindfolded, your arms tied behind your back. It's a series of pictures, you realize.

First from the front, then from the back (your ass cheeks look great with how they're pushed up by the leather straps). You notice something shiny between them: a butt plug with a sparkly diamond base. It's glowing, or blinking as you see in the next picture where the light is gone.

Your insides convulse a little, your muscles clenching around nothing. It's like looking at porn, but you can't ignore the familiarity about the body portrayed. It is undoubtedly yours.

But then again: you've never had anything up your ass, not in your conscious state at least. But here (and in those other pics) you have, and the next print even shows a close-up of the plug in your ass. It's a strangely aesthetic photo considering the unflattering motif and angle, but it certainly does things to you. Though you can't be sure if the tension in your stomach comes from embarrassment, excitement or sheer terror at the revelation that somebody took these pictures of you – and you can't even remember it.

Swallowing hard, you pry your eyes from the prints, your hands still shaking, as you look around the room. Somebody can only be one person. Your gaze scrapes over the shelves around you, full of camera equipment, old-fashioned film containers next to a plastic box full of SD-cards, various lenses and other extras, and then the cameras themselves, three at least, behind glass doors, kept away, like the pictures you found in a large brown envelope hiding in a drawer.

You've been looking for some hair ties, an innocent search, knowing your roommate wouldn't mind, but now you feel as if you've stepped into a different world, uncovering secrets you should have never known about. Even if they are about you.

Taking a shuddering breath, you look back at the pictures in your hands, your cheeks positively aflame now as you trace the blurry lines of your body before the focus shifts to a close-up of your cunt, shiny and reddened, your clit swollen, with black clamps attached to your pussy lips, thin metal chains disappearing off to the sides, holding your folds open while something black and girthy vanishes into your body.

The next pictures show a white-gloved hand gripping the base of the dildo, and you flip quicker through the sheets to create the motion, seeing the toy going in and out of your cunt, guided by the anonymous hand, spreading your core, diving in to retreat with an extra layer of shine before disappearing again, and as you stare at the prints, you can almost feel it moving inside you, a faint memory as your muscles clench and unclench, your arousal building up before it drips into your underwear.

You are torn between being very horny upon seeing these pictures and utterly disturbed. If you could only remember these scenes, then it wouldn't be as bad. But you can't. There's nothing, only fog that slips through your mind's imaginary fingers as you try to catch it, as you try to make sense of this. You feel your heart beating faster while your eyes tear up from staring unblinkingly at the prints in your hands.

This can't be real. Confusion merges with betrayal, your belly feels tense, your heart clenches in rhythm with your walls, your throat closes up as the first tear spills from your lashes.

You let go of the pictures, watching them scatter over the desk and down to the floor, every angle of your body on display, every inch captured in embarrassing detail, your holes filled or gaping, your mouth gagged or stuffed or open, there's drool, there are tears, there's wetness glistening on your skin in almost every shot. Your eyes may be the scariest part staring up at you. They're either glazed over, unfocused, or rolled back and hooded, some bloodshot, some watery, and some look almost defiant, a moment captured in time where you seemingly fought back?

The ones where you're blindfolded are the least terrifying, those are the ones where you can dissociate, where you can imagine somebody else being tied to whatever surfaces there are, tables, benches, beds, chairs, artfully presented, where it's just a body, clad in sexy lingerie and high heels, or adorned with ropes, or in the moments after where the skin is dented by the intricate patterns left behind by the ties.

The close-ups are also getting to you. You've never seen your own cunt or ass up close like this, so again, it could be anyone's holes filled and spread and used by various objects. The sheer amount and variety of them is quite concerning. But it's the unconventional ones that make you shiver, that create that tension in your stomach. The cucumber pushed deep into your ass so only its thinner stalk or whatever its called pokes out. The wide eggplant parting your labia in an obscene fashion, its entire body stuffed into your cunt, creating a slight bulge in your lower stomach.

There's another stack of photos atop a large envelope (the whole drawer seems to be dedicated to just you), and your curiosity gets the better of you after all. It's a series of pictures showing different round objects pushed into your holes. From marbles to ping pong balls to actual tennis balls, they're all shown vanishing into either your ass or your cunt, pushed by a delicate finger clad in a white glove, one after the other, and you can only assume how many would actually fit. It's not a video, you can't be sure, but you can imagine whoever did this to you didn't stop at just one.

Indeed they didn't, as the next photo shows. Another set of hands, also wearing white gloves, is grabbing your ass cheeks and pulling them apart, making your sphincter wink at the camera, before, in the next shot, your hole is gaping, allowing a strange view inside, rosy flesh stuffed with white little balls (you can see at least three, but more are hinted at behind them). You feel a little sick looking at the rest of the series of pictures, where they come back out as your hole puckers, pushing and pushing.

Your body reacts in earnest, your muscles clenching around nothing, deep shivers crashing down your spine. You flip past more of these kinds of photos, until you stop when you see white-gloved fingers poking at your cunt, spreading your lips, gathering your slick that glistens on the surface of the latex gloves, and you let out an audible gasp when the next picture doesn't show them push in, but shows only a wrist (attached to a slender arm) poking out of your stretched hole, gripped by tight skin, suggesting the entire hand is stuck inside you.

Your stomach gives a nervous growl at the sight, your breath hitching in your throat. You swallow thickly, your nostrils flaring as you force yourself to breathe through your nose to calm yourself. The stack of pictures shakes in your hands as you flip through more extreme insertions, more vegetables, some fruits, an entire apple made it up your cunt apparently, while they went from using one cucumber in your ass to at least three, stretching your rim impossibly wide. The sight alone makes your asshole clench violently, and you wonder why you never felt sore after being stuffed so full and spread so wide.

But your body seemingly adjusted, returned to its former state, unharmed, giving no hints at what actually happened to you. Strange. It's almost as if this happened to somebody else after all. But it didn't. It is your body. You may not know your cunt or ass up close, but you recognize the rest, your boobs, your arms, your belly, your legs, your feet, the birthmarks that make you you. It is you in these pictures, in every single one.

Only you.

A strangled sob escapes you as you look over the desk, seeing more and more envelopes, hiding in plain sight, more prints, some smaller, some bigger, all filled with motifs of your body being used in various fashions, one more degrading than the next. Shame settles low in your stomach, like a heavy weight that makes it hard to breathe. Your head is spinning, blood rushing in your ears so loudly you are startled back into reality as you suddenly hear the creaking of the door.

Footsteps follow, before someone clears their throat.

You whip around, dropping the last pictures you were holding, more shots of your stuffed cunt, wet and glistening as it's assaulted by more household items. Your eyes widen when you see your roommate in the door frame, a smug smile on her beautiful face as she crosses her arms over her chest.

“Oh hi,” she says in a nonchalant tone, tilting her head. “What are you doing here, pet?” she adds, and you frown at the nickname, a strange sensation crashing through your nerves.

“I... uh... I was looking for...” you stammer, taking a step away from the desk and the mess you made by dropping all those prints. “A hair tie,” you whisper breathlessly, curling your shaking hands into fists as you stare at her. “What... what are these? Did you take them?” you then ask, your voice trembling as much as your shoulders while you look from her back to the discriminating evidence you found by accident.

Your roommate sighs, unfolding her arms as she walks towards you. She's taller than you, slender and still curvy in the right places, her long hair falling over her slim shoulders. You force yourself to look into her eyes and not get distracted by the cleavage her tight dress creates or how close she is. She stops right in front of you, looking down, a softer looking smile curling her full lips.

“You know I did,” she says quietly, reaching up a hand to caress your cheek with the back of her finger. You shiver under the touch, but don't flinch away. “You agreed to this, remember?”

“No,” you breathe out, blinking quickly as you feel tears welling up in your eyes.

She clicks her tongue, shaking her head. “Shh, it's okay, pet, don't worry. You did. I would never do anything to harm you,” she whispers, leaning closer until you feel her hot breath on your lips. “You wanted to be my muse, you begged me for it,” she adds, biting her lip sensually before leaning in to press her warm mouth to the corner of yours.

You stiffen, eyes widening, your heart nearly exploding in your chest. You can't remember any of this. Why is she saying that? She is just your roommate!

You moved in only a few months ago, replying to an ad you saw on the bulletin board of your college dorm. A cheap room in a good neighborhood, your own room, away from the distractions of having to live with people you don't like or know that well, it sounded too good to be true. But it was true, and the woman looking for roommates was so nice, so enticing. You met her at a neutral place, to get to know her (fall for her charm), before she showed you the apartment, and you moved in later that week.

It was perfect. Until it wasn't. Not that you noticed it right away. You just never saw her. Now that you thought about it, you can only (barely) remember going to your classes (you are still going to your classes, right?), while the rest of the day is somewhat of a blur. You can't, however, remember going to your job at the coffee shop (do you still have a job? How are you paying for this place?), and the more you try to remember, the more holes come up, black and all-consuming.

You frown as you stare at her. She leans back slowly, watching you. Her hand is on your face, the pointy nail of her thump scraping over your bottom lip as her long fingers caress the shell of your ear.

“No need to worry, pet,” she says quietly, her voice a low soft thrum, rich like honey, that tickles something inside you that you've fought all your life. Why does she keep calling you 'pet'? And why does it affect you so much? “Everything is just fine. And I'm not even mad that you just went into my room like this. I told you you shouldn't, didn't I?”

You swallow as she lowers her hand and closes it around your throat, giving it a gentle squeeze. You feel your pulse throbbing against her palm. “I'm sorry,” you gasp out.

She smiles at you, moving her hand even lower, teasing her fingertips along the neckline of your shirt. “It's okay. You know the consequences. It'll be fine.” You furrow your eyebrows, breathing harder, not understanding anything. “Not the first time, hm?” she adds, giving you a wink. Her words make no sense, your head is hurting with how tight you pull your eyebrows together, and with all the thoughts and questions whirling about in a wild dance of confusion.

“I... I don't –”

“Shh,” she shushes you, her hand gripping your chin. You freeze. “Be a good pet and go back to your room. I'll clean this up. Put on the clothes I chose for you. Wait for me when you're done. Do you understand?”

You stare at her, your body tensing up, your cunt clenching hard around nothing. Her words, the cadence of her voice, the dominant tone, it all brings you to do one thing, your mind emptying as words spill from your trembling lips. “Yes, Mistress.”

You don't even know where these came from. Mistress? Pet? What is going on? But your body moves on auto-pilot, your mind swirling, still fighting the confusion, but also easing into a strange void, triggered by words you've heard before, or so it feels, commands you've answered many times in the past.

She lets go of your chin, giving you a warm smile, even though her eyes are dark and somewhat cold, and you nod, bow your head and shuffle out of the room, your legs trembling as you make your way back into your bedroom across the hall.

For a moment you're wondering how you got here, why you're here, but then your gaze falls onto a pile of clothes on your bed. You walk closer, picking up item after item. A short black skirt, pleated, barely long enough to not be considered a belt. A tight tank top, white and almost see-through. A set of fancy black underwear, a lace bra with an intricate flower pattern, a thong of similar design. There's also a pair of sheer black stockings, a garter belt and straps to attach each piece together.

Your stomach tenses at the sight. You've seen these pieces before, in the photos you shouldn't have seen. It's a blur how you put them on, your head spinning, your hands shaking, but you still somehow manage to dress in time before you hear footsteps on the floorboards outside your room. Your heart beats faster, your chest heaving, tight in the bra and top, straining, something cold crashing down your spine before it gathers hot and pulsing right between your legs.

Before the creaking of the door announces your roommate, you suddenly fall to your knees, your feet tucked under your rear, your hands automatically finding purchase in your lap, folded neatly as you stretch your back and square your shoulders, breathing deep as you train your eyes straight ahead, waiting for the door to open. You have no idea what made you assume this position, why it feels so familiar, so safe in a way.

Your roommate (your Mistress) enters your bedroom, her high heels thudding over the carpet as she walks up to you, tilting her head as she watches you closely. “Stand,” she says, and you do, your legs moving seemingly on their own. Once you stand, stiff with your arms pressed to your sides, chest pushed out, your neck straight, eyes wandering over the tall frame in front of you, she nods. “See? You haven't forgotten. Good girl,” she says, and the praise shoots through you like a pistol shot, straight into your clit, making it throb and ache, your heart beating in the same hurried rhythm.

She walks around you then, her long fingers brushing over your bare arms, around your shoulders, down your spine, until she gives your ass a soft slap, making you gasp quietly. She repeats the motion, but this time, she leaves her hand on your cheek for a moment, squeezing it, her fingernails digging into your soft skin. You stiffen, breathing a little harder.

“You're so beautiful,” she whispers as she leans into you, looming behind you, her breath ghosting your jaw. “My perfect little muse.”

You feel her lips brushing against the soft spot behind your ear, a hot kiss that makes you shiver, while her hand gropes your ass, fingertips teasing at the thin fabric of your thong tucked between your cheeks.

Suddenly she leans back, lets go of you, and you hear her walking a few steps before she stops, a deep sigh echoing through the room. You turn around slowly, unsure if you should, but when you do, you freeze as you watch her pick up the glass of water on your bedside table.

“Baby, I told you to drink more,” she says with a tilt of her head. “You always forget, hm? So busy, head always in the clouds...” She walks back to you, holding the glass in front of you, her eyes boring into yours as she waits for you to grab it. You do, your hands shaking. “Drink up, pretty girl. You know you need it.”

She's so caring, you think as you bring the water to your lips, holding her gaze, but as soon as you feel the cold liquid running down your tight throat, an image flickers before your eyes. Your roommate (Mistress) sitting on your bed, moving a clear glass straw in a stirring motion, swirling the water, making a faint sheen of powder disappear. You feel as if you've watched her do that many times. What is that? What did she put in here? Vitamins? Or something else?

But you can't even question it further, can't find the courage to ask, when you realize you've drank the whole thing, every drop of water (and whatever else was in there) now in your stomach. “Good girl,” she praises and smiles at you, before she takes the glass from your clammy fingers and puts it back on your bedside table. “Now let's get you ready for our big night out, yeah?”

You frown, another faint memory peeking through the fog in your head. It seems to be getting thicker now. Strange. But this image, you still see somewhat clearly before you. You had plans tonight, you remember now, you wanted to go out. Where? No idea. But you needed a hair tie. Yeah. That's why you went into your roommate's room in the first place. Some details are blurry (were you supposed to go out with her? Have you done that before? Why would you? You barely know the woman...), but somehow they don't matter anymore.

She steps back in front of you, her fingers vanishing in the cleavage of her dress before she pulls something from between her breasts. You blink in confusion as you recognize the shape. It's a metal butt plug. And she stored it between her boobs? Interesting.

“Open wide, pet,” she tells you, and without even questioning it, you part your lips and let your tongue roll out. She looks pleased as she puts the rounded object into your mouth. It's warm, and the taste triggers something else in you. Another familiar sensation. It's her, you know without knowing, her taste, sweet and a bit salty, exploding on your tongue, sinking deep, causing soft shivers to crash down your spine, something hot gathering low in your gut.

You've had your face on her chest before, huh? Must be. Your cheeks burn up badly, your breaths loud through your nose as you suckle on the butt plug between your lips, your eyes scanning the pretty face looking down at you. She keeps her fingers on the base, pushing the object in and out, and you find yourself licking around it, coating it in your saliva. Like you've done before. You think.

She watches you before she lets go of the plug and puts her palm over your mouth. “Keep it nice and warm for me, okay?” she says, leaning closer until her nose brushes against yours. You give a jerking nod, tightening your lips around the narrowest part of the plug while its body rests hard and heavy on your tongue. “Good.”

You feel saliva pooling in your mouth, and the urge to swallow becomes stronger. But you focus on the woman in front of you as she straightens up again, her hands on her hips. Her whole presence, her aura, has you in its grip, you feel, it's impossible to fight it, to protest, to do anything except the things she demands of you. All it takes is a look, a word, her voice driving through you like an electric current that controls your every limb.

And so you move when she tells you to turn around and bend over, and as you rest on your forearms on the edge of your bed, she nudges your legs apart and steps between them, her hands sliding under your skirt and pushing it up. You stiffen slightly, breathing harder, your heart thundering inside your chest, but you can't object, you don't want to. You just endure.

And a tiny part of you, through the fog in your head, lights up, a growing heat that creeps down your spine, tenses in your stomach, seeps lower until it gathers in your core, scorching, wet, and it's all you feel when she pushes your thong aside and moves her fingers along your slit, dipping gently between your puffy lips and into your slick, the loud squelching noise making your ears burn.

She prods at your entrance, teases your clit, but then she moves up again, and without warning or command or reassuring words pokes right against your puckered hole, and as you gasp around the plug in your mouth, flinching slightly, she stretches your rim and pushes into your ass, a slim finger, a pointy fingernail, digging against your tense muscles. In and out it goes until there are two fingers, then three, and it burns, the friction too much, like little daggers poking at your nerves.

“Come on, pet, relax,” she says from behind you, moving her fingers deeper, curling them, pushing and prodding against protesting muscles. “You've done this before. You're a pro at this, remember?”

Her words bring up the hazy memories of the pictures you saw, of the various items wedged into your tight ass, and some just don't make sense. Three cucumbers? Really? While it already feels like too much when she 'only' has three slim fingers inside you? How did you manage that? Your stomach gives a distant growl as drool slips past your tight lips and onto your bed.

“Fine, I'll lube you up this time,” she sighs and removes her fingers with a strangely wet pop. This time? She doesn't usually? It's almost as if you can remember the pain of the dry friction, but then why can you never remember any soreness afterwards? Confusion lingers on your mind as you hear her footsteps leaving the room.

You remain in your bent-over position, your hands clawing at the sheets as you suckle mindlessly on the metal plug in your mouth, trying to make sense of it all. You come to no conclusion whatsoever when she eventually returns, and you hear the squirt of some liquid before you can feel it. Large dollops of something cold pressing against your tight hole. You groan against the object between your lips as she pushes deeper, her fingers, slick and cold, sliding in and out again.

This time she stretches your hole by scissoring her fingers, knuckles digging into your tense muscles, and you hear another squirt and something cold lands on your hot skin, slipping right into you. You shiver, goosebumps breaking out on your exposed skin. She keeps doing that, filling you up with more and more lube, you assume, her fingers pushing it deep, coating your insides. It's a strange sensation, but again, this feels somewhat familiar, and triggers more memories you seem to have suppressed before, or forgotten.

You see yourself strapped to a reclining chair, your legs raised up in some sort of stirrups, ankles tied and wrists bound to the armrests. You're naked, and she is kneeling between your wide open legs in front of a large plastic bucket or something like it, and there's a tube inside your ass, something cold (water?) pressing through it and into you, and you see and feel it filling you up, your stomach bulging, and you feel sick, your insides cramping, but you can't say anything, there's a gag in your mouth, so all you can do is squirm in your restraints, until you feel a different sort of pain as she slaps your mound with a force that makes you cry out, makes you flinch remembering it, and she keeps at it, hitting your clit with precise blows until it's all puffy and throbbing badly, and you throw your head back and whine helplessly, your belly still bulging, filling up, while her voice coos into your ear:

“You want to be clean, pet, don't you? So we gotta clean you up properly. You don't want to be dirty for our guests, now do you?”

You frown deeply as those words echo in your cloudy head. Guests? But the question vanishes slowly, replaced by the sensation of her fingers digging deep into your ass, spreading more lube, and in the back of your mind you're just glad she isn't giving you another enema. A strange thought to have, but it makes sense in the dizziness that holds you hostage. Breathing harder, you press your forehead into the bed, swallowing hard around the plug in your mouth.

As she works on (in) your ass, you start to feel a tingle in your neglected pussy, a spasm deep within, a little clench, a needy little urge, and instead of holding still, you find yourself grinding your rear into her hand. She stops immediately, a deep sigh escaping her as she pulls her fingers out of your ass and grips your nape with her wet hand. You shiver and stiffen, holding your breath as she pulls you into a standing position.

Her free hand grabs the base of the plug and pulls it out of your mouth where it clangs against your teeth, causing you to flinch. You swallow the excess spit and take a shuddering breath as you feel the warm metal pressing between your ass cheeks. With how she worked you open, it slips in easily enough, and your muscles clench slightly around its narrow neck, but it's only after she smacks your soft cheek a few times in rapid succession, making you whine and shudder as your skin tightens, that you're tensing up enough to hold it in place.

She lets go of you and spins you around, then holds out her hand to you, her fingers glistening in lube and your own wetness. “Clean,” she says, and even though your stomach makes a loud grumble of protest, you find yourself leaning in and closing your lips around her slim fingers. A strange taste of artificial strawberry and something else, something tangy and your own, floods your senses, but you close your eyes and flick your tongue around her digits, focusing on the task and not on the taste and the origin of it.

Eventually she pulls her hand away and pats your cheek, leaving a trail of saliva on your warm skin. Your eyes flutter open as she leans around you and adjusts your thong, pulling it back in place, then pushes your skirt down again. Her eyes meet yours, the gaze intense, creating another soothing wave of heat that rolls over you gently, that makes you clench around the plug in your butt. A smile grazes her full lips, and you find yourself smiling back.

“Alright, now put your hair up, get your shoes and your coat, and wait by the front door,” she tells you as she steps away, holding your gaze until you nod obediently. Your mind is reeling at this point, confusion and arousal warring inside of you. What is happening?

You don't know, and you don't seem to care too much either as you start moving, following her orders. You end up on your knees again, right by the door, waiting like a dog, and the image couldn't have been more fitting when you see her approaching with a strange leather band in her hands. You blink when she crouches down before you and fixes what you can only assume is a collar around your neck. It sits tight enough to notice it, but you can still breathe freely and swallow against it without it restricting you in any way.

You're still confused why you need this (and why you accept it so easily). Your roommate (Mistress) cups your face and looks at you with a warm gaze that makes you bite your lip, her hands rubbing over your cheeks before she tugs her thumbs under your chin and lifts it so she can lean in and press her lips to yours. Your eyes flutter shut as you part your lips and meet her tongue, the kiss deep and soft, gentle gliding of tongues and lips, a warm gesture, sending sparks through your nerves that make you throb with a need that feels both familiar and eerily unknown, frightening.

A single thought ricochets through your empty head: You would do anything for this woman.

“My beautiful pet,” she whispers against your tingling lips, the tip of her tongue tracing the corner of your mouth. “Are you ready?”

Without thinking, without wondering what for, you nod eagerly, a breathless “Yes, Mistress.” leaving your swollen lips. She gives you another peck and stands up then, snapping her fingers in a way that leaves no room for interpretation. You stand immediately, swaying slightly on the high heels you were told to wear. You're still smaller than her, but having to look up only amplifies the sensation coursing through you. Your devotion for her.

She grabs a large bag and shoves it into your hands, and you know by the weight and feel of it, that it holds camera equipment. A distant memory shimmers behind your glassy eyes, of stumbling into her room, finding those envelopes in the drawer of her desk, of flipping through countless pictures of your naked body, of your holes being stuffed and stretched, of being tied down, of letting her do with you whatever she wants. What has disturbed you earlier is barely worth a flinch now.

It's what you do. It's what you are. Her muse. Her pet. She chose you and you obey. It's what you do, it's what she does. She's your Mistress, after all.

1 🎀 2 🎀 3 🎀 4

End notes: Yes, our dominant lady here is indeed inspired by a character from my other (m/f) Dom/sub story: Infatuated: Mistress.

By the way, a little disclaimer at the end here as we go to the next (heavier) chapters: I am not a BDSM professional or expert, I am a writer with a dirty mind and access to the Internet. This is fiction, gaslighting people is bad, consent is very important, but when a hot lady tells you to do something, you gotta do it, that's the law (jk). Please see this as what it is: a fantasy and nothing more.

Thank you for reading! Next chapter on Saturday!

MASTERLIST // AO3 // ORIGINAL WORKS

[cloveroctobers]

CUT TIES — Terry Richmond [Fall Crumbles] 🤎

A/N: There’s enough Terry to go around right? This is inspired by two things…OFC a song + taking another chance at writing something influenced by Love is Blind. Who saw that wasteful reunion?! Anyways that is what this is so get ready for angst.

WARNINGS: Reference to a intimate moment but a line at best?

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11:32pm

FROM: T. Richmond

I Need To Hear Your Voice…Can You Call Me?

Was the text message he sent you, which made you let out a long exhale.

11:43pm

TO: T. Richmond

I’m at work T [Deleted] Terry.

11:44pm

FROM: T. Richmond

I’m Aware. I’ll Feel Better When I Hear Your Voice…And I Know You’re Probably Saying That I’ve Got A lot Of Nerve To Say That To You Right Now…Yet This Will Always Be True, No Matter How Things Ended.

You were glad Terry can acknowledge that he did in fact have nerve requesting a call from you, when the both of you already had that final closure conversation weeks ago…however here he was back again, entering your life whenever he pleases.

Picking up your phone, after watching it ring for a while you debated about letting it go to voicemail honestly. You really didn’t need to hear many more angles about whatever situation Terry got fucked over in. Things seemed to be going well lately though, at least that’s what he tried to portray on social media…which was also new for him.

Always the type of man to be lowkey and out the way but after the exposure of being contestants on a certain love show, he stepped out just a little. It was never too much, Terry wasn’t the type of man to be in your face about his blessings but if things went south, then he had no problem stepping to you if common ground couldn’t be located.

“Hey,” He starts, his deep tone sounded as if he was ready to go to sleep, possibly lying down, whereas you were wired on your night shift, “Sorry for bothering you—

Rolling your eyes, you couldn’t help but to let it slip through your lips, “Are you though?”

He hummed, “Nope, can’t say that I am, to be real with you.”

“Well, can’t ever say you failed at honesty.” You replied with a hint of sarcasm which made Terry chuckle humorlessly, “What’s up? What was so important that you needed to be on my hotline right now?”

It was Terry’s turn to roll his natural underlined eyes but he’s not trying to pick a fight or even think about you with someone else, “…the house is too quiet and I couldn’t sleep. The first person I wanted to talk to, to ease the loud silence…is you. I believe that’s how it’s always gon’ be.”

Not long after you called it quits, Terry closed on a house that he’s been eyeing long before he decided to go on the show. It was meant to be if they couldn’t get it sold. He of course talked to you about it once you were out of the pods, saying how some rooms needed Reno and asked your thoughts on if that could be your main home once married. Thankful that you already had your home that you owned at such a young age, You spoke about how much you already invested in your home and how you had no plans of selling just yet even if you two chose to get married.

Which isn’t something that he wanted you to do but questioned how this would work. He wasn’t down with sleeping in separate houses, although Terry knew it would take time to get everything right, the house he bought was livable and he wanted that with you.

Something that Terry always admired about you is, that you had your own mind and drive to do what you felt was best for you. He respected it, had to really learn how to when you said you two needed to put some distance between you after a final argument got too heated.

“…I’m sure you’ll get used to it at some point.”

“I don’t know if I agree with that.”

Terry listened to you sigh.

“I’m going to say something you won’t want to hear but I’m saying it anyway,” you start as you lightly flick your feathered pen back and forth at the desk, “You’re going to have to get comfortable being alone in that house, Terry. I know you’ve been used to being a lone wolf majority of the time…but you officially settled somewhere now and you’re building a life outside of the danger you once knew. Which I’m proud of by the way but you’re going to have to start finding comfort elsewhere or with yourself because I’m not going to provide that to you anymore.”

Terry was afraid that you were going to say this one day. Usually you both were good at having balance when your relationship was solid, giving each other the space needed and showing up when needed. Everything just took a turn once the chaos showed up again at Terry and his cousin, Mike’s business. This was the first time Terry ever lied to you and that came at multiple costs. It blew up in his face because leaving you in the dark and not communicating with his fiancée? led to being stalked and a home invasion that still haunted you.

Terry would always be sorry for that.

From bliss to passion to heat to closure to yearning. It was all stages of what this relationship was, for Terry it was the process of your love story whereas for you, it was part of your origin story.

“What if I say…I’m finding that’s not what I really want?” Terry speaks, “…That I don’t see much of a future without you in it? We talked through that hurdle, we wished each other the best after the reunion but what if that’s not enough for me? What if we’re each other’s best?“

This was another side you predicted would happen. One thing about you is, your mind was always turning just like the earth spinning on its axis. Which took another turn in your argument, speculating things that weren’t true once you found out that Terry lied about some new men targeting him. You predicted that once you both tried to move on and live without each other, the other would crack. It happened before, a month after the reunion when his aunt invited you to her forty-fifth birthday party. Your friends told you not to go and that night made you weak for Terry Richmond.

So weak you couldn’t feel your legs for days, Terry knew your body so well, had no problem burrying himself deep downstairs in his aunt’s basement, green hues trained only on you, while having your legs in the perfect V over his shoulders, and that man was a mountain.

A dangerous one.

Now it was your turn to fully stand on business and the year was coming to a close so you didn’t need Terry to find new ways in.

That was supposed to be understood but you both fumbled that at the party.

You had enough time to figure out what was best. Of course you experienced the what if’s yourself, been as loyal as they came but a structured life of constantly looking over your shoulder was just not it to you. To no longer feel safe with the man you thought you would grow old with. Now you had the world weighing in on what they’ve seen on their tv’s and online—you can handle challenges—you worked as a nurse on the oncology floor, however you have to be smart enough to realize when it was too much and that was enough to walk away.

“At a time we were,” you finally answered before reassuring, “Everything you’re feeling is valid. I hear you. I’ve been there and got through that. You will too.”

Terry’s silence was as potent on the phone as what he probably felt like the inside of his home was. The scratching of the branch that was too close to his bedroom window was similar to the clawing you were doing to his heart. He didn’t want to lose you for good, call him selfish but he didn’t want to just forget the unique connection you built.

Although he felt disrespected with the way you spoke (yelled) to (at) him during your breaking point, he was willing to come back and work through it but ultimately it felt like there was no trust there anymore. Terry did feel like you were looking for a way out because you two were “too” good together, unfortunately this was too big of a situation to come back from.

The stubborn one out of the two, Terry can sense that you already had your mind made up. Two tough conversations were had, one behind the scenes and another for streamers to dissect and formulate their own opinions on, should have been enough but Terry always kept his cards close. You were his most precious one, yet you were telling him how to store it away back into the deck for good.

“Is this really what you want? To fully walk away?”

A hint of annoyance hits you and could be felt as you start, “We went over this—

“So us going two rounds that day meant nothing?”

Sure it did.

“Terry that was goodbye, you had to have known that. The last hurrah. So let me make it clear this time without raising my voice because I know you hate that—and I’ve been working on it—I’m cutting ties.”

Half expecting the line to go dead, you still find yourself holding your breath as the quiet goes deadly silent. Until you hear shuffling on the other end, Terry’s sitting up on the edge of the bed now, feeling a stress headache arrive right on both sides of his temples which then radiate to the back of his neck.

“I don’t want this to come off the wrong way…but I love you. I need you to know that.”

That was obvious but again, sometimes love isn’t enough.

“Don’t do that.”

“What’s that?”

“Trying to find other angles to make this work. We tried after the big argument—that spark isn’t the same and would never be the same.”

Terry huffs, “Maybe we didn’t try hard enough.”

Grasping at straws, was not necessarily in Terry’s nature. He also knew that statement was just not true. Both of you put your hearts on the line and this was something the both of you would have never taken so lightly.

“…don’t let your loneliness overshadow what can’t be managed. We been made our decision but this is me finally enforcing a boundary.” You inhale air through your teeth before continuing, “You are headstrong, very structured and lived a life that I know nothing about if it comes knocking at our door again. What happens if we brought kids into that? It’s not that I don’t believe you couldn’t keep us safe, it’s the fact that our lives would always be at risk even if it’s not something you intentionally brought to the table.”

“We take risks every time we step out the door. That’s what life is,” Terry tried to reason, “I tried to leave the life I lived prior behind me, which is why I like to keep to myself and not open up. You changed that. I know we’ve been over this countless of times…I just don’t know if I’m ready to completely cut the rope. To never have you around is…a scary thought.”

In a minute, it wouldn’t just be a thought.

“It’ll be as if before we met. I’m not saying it’s easy by any means but I’ve accepted the art of letting go. Ending access to each other for real this time, does not automatically mean we never loved each other or there isn’t any more love there. If we fell back into each other, it would be a repeat of all the pieces we wouldn’t want to live with. It’ll be hard to fake and deal with.”

“Deal with?” Terry echoed in a tone that oozed frustration, “I’d be willing to be a team.”

“Then why wasn’t that taken into consideration when those men shot up your business? Or me being stalked by one of those men at work? Then being followed home.” You felt your blood pressure rising at what you thought you forgave—but everything is a process, “Or when Summer and I went out to lunch, just to find out that she knew about the drive by before I did? Or how I almost got ran over on purpose in the parking garage at work? That didn’t feel like team work. I was in the dark when we needed to continue to be a piece of each other’s light from the damn sun rays. Being the last to know often, did not make me feel like a priority. I feel like that part of you, you wanted to shield me from all the time…so now I’m going to be a shield on my terms.”

Terry Richmond never wanted to be responsible for changing the trajectory of someone’s entire life in a negative way. Although you said the love shared wouldn’t just vanish, it did feel like you thought about it and had time to sit on it.

He could make this easy and give you what you wanted, should have and it was once something he actually agreed to. However people change their minds all the time and he never saw himself falling out of love with you.

It wasn’t about being trained, it was about being in love.

He clears his throat, “I had no intentions on making this conversation out to be difficult…I knew I’d get push back, it’s one of the things I love about you,” Terry says, “I just wanted to let you know that I miss you, that your voice is actually what makes me feel safe and probably always will. And that I hope I’d get the chance to love you more in every lifetime. That was part of what I wrote to you in our vows by the way and I still stand by those words. If I had more time, those words would be actions. I’d make up for it, if you just let me.”

Him saying that over the phone, did make you feel a way. It made the back of your eyes burn but the shield was already in the works of being fully up. You didn’t need to hear this, you never doubted Terry’s love for you but it was over, you had the scissors slowly running along what kept you connected. Terry didn’t get the choice to go back on the agreement, yes people change their minds all the time but there was no time to compromise.

“There’s no use in crying over spilled milk, Terry.” Is all you can say, leaving each other to listen to each other’s breathing before the man is finally hit with the call ending.

He’s left holding on tightly to his phone, taking in the sound of autumn’s whipping air outside of his home. Tossing the phone behind him on the bed, Terry gets to his feet, determination shining his in his eyes while he begins to put his mind elsewhere opposed to holding onto you.

As you sat at the front desk, you snapped out of the dissociation that wanted to creep in, to place your phone on charge. Then grabbed onto some scissors returning back to the craft project you were working on to help decorate this level of the hospital for the holidays.

Snip!

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More autumn anthology prompts here.

[look-at-the-soul]

Every little thing you do- Part 9

Tommy Shelby x reader

Series master list

Hello again! Thank you so much for the love to this series 🙌🏻 I’m enjoying so much the process for each part, and trust me, your feedback is super valuable (I sometimes take inspiration from your POV, like this part…) let’s give an amazing character the best welcome 🥰✨

Also special thanks to @blondie-22 for the gif!!!! (Always portraying what I have in mind ♥️)

Word count: 3,350

“Are you sure you don’t want my company?” Tommy asked for the third time as he pulled in front of the market.

“No, because you’ll start complaining as I go through the stands, but I appreciate the offer.”

“And what about the basket? You’ll have to carry it by yourself on your way back.” He tried again, feeling a bit uneasy for leaving Y/N alone.

“Tom, I’ll only buy cherries, apples and sugar, grandma has the rest.” Y/N gave him a deep frown in response by his overprotective attitude.

Giving up, Tommy raised his hands from the steering wheel. “Fine, but I’ll send someone to join you anyways.”

Y/N wanted to ask if something was wrong, but deep down she knew Tommy wouldn’t tell her much, so she decided to just thank him for the ride and step down of his vehicle.

“I’ll meet grandma at the Garrison and then we’ll go over your house.” She announced leaning down.

“Looking forward for that pie.” Tommy smiled right before driving away towards Watery Lane.

The market wasn’t too crowded as she expected, people trying to sell a bit of everything invaded her personal space, Y/N tried to keep the basket in front of her tummy, in an attempt to protect her baby. She just kept walking to the fruit stands since they were in the middle…

Passing by the stand with the rugs, another one offered jewelry, the sellers were shouting, inviting everyone in, making special offers to get the customers attention.

Reaching the fruits and vegetables stands, she closed her eyes relishing in the smell for several seconds, it was hard to hide she was mouthwatering so Y/N decided to hurry up to get the items she needed and go back to start baking as soon as possible.

“Do you need anything else?” The kind woman offered, making the count in her head.

“That would be all, thank you.” Y/N noticed as more and more people started gathering at the market.

She was now aware of her surroundings, especially after Tommy explained that he didn’t trust Father Hughes. That she needed to be more careful

“Actually… do you’ve any sugar?”

The woman shook her head. “A few stands down they might have though.”

“Wonderful, thank you so much.” With a smile, Y/N paid for her items and as she was about to move forward, she almost bumped into someone. “Lee-Anne!”

“Y/N!” Her sister squealed in delight, arms wrapping around each other immediately. “What are you doing here?”

“I needed some ingredients for a pie.”

“How’s the baby? How are you feeling? Grandma just keeps me updated with bits.”

Y/N couldn’t help but look down, she should have been a role model for her sister.

“We’re both doing okay, Tommy and the Shelby’s had been nothing but kind to us… Although, I wish we could be together and I’m sorry for the way this happened.”

“Mum and Dad shouldn’t have kicked you out.” Lee-Anne stated.

“Don’t blame them, I embarrassed them…“

But before her sister could protest again, their mother’s voice resonated.

“Mum it’s fine, I was just happy to see Y/N.” Lee-Anne explained.

“Happy? How could you be happy? She doesn’t even care to keep a low profile, she’s showing her sin proudly.” Her mother’s words cut like a knife.

“Look, I know this isn’t ideal or what you wanted for me, but this is my reality now.” Y/N tried to keep her voice down. “And I’m trying to do my best.”

“Is it the speech that gánster prepared you to repeat?” Her mother shook her head slightly. “Being so close to him only confused you, to see right what is wrong by all means.”

“Why are you even blaming him now? Tommy has been nothing but a real friend to me.”

“You don’t even care that people have been talking about you hmm? Your honor rolling from mouth to mouth, having everybody in Birmingham whispering about you and him, I thought your reputation would be over as the word would spread about Scott not marrying you, but now people are wondering if the baby is a Shelby.”

Y/N gasped too shocked by what her mother just said.

“What are you talking about?”

“Please don’t even try to hide it anymore, all of that secrecy between the two of you, going out for a ride in his horse since you were younger… he acting so protective the day he took you from YOUR house without your father’s permission.”

“He was defending me!” Y/N exploded.

“That’s what they call it now?” With a scoff her mother looked away. “I overheard one of the women that washes clothes, she was talking to someone else who works for I don’t know who and basically they were gossiping about you… and him.”

Y/N was trying to process her mother’s words, taking her time to let it sink in.

Where the hell did that rumor came from? She had been so engrossed in the foundation project and her baby that barely had time to have tea and gossip about anyone.

“I never thought you’d be someone’s mistress.”

The disappointment in her mother’s statement was like a punch in Y/N’s gut, she felt anger raising inside of her.

“Who said that? That’s not true!”

Y/N felt so upset, but at the same time she tried to remain respectful of her mother, wherever she was in the wrong.

“I made a mistake, but my father shouldn’t have hit me like that, I was bleeding, had marks all over my back for days.”

“The way you behaved, what did you expect?” She found tears in her mother’s eyes. “Can you imagine how your father felt for a second?”

“And what about me? What about how I felt?”

“Don’t talk to me like that!”

Y/N let out a shaky breath slowly, trying to regain control of her emotions.

“Think whatever you want Mother.” Y/N adjusted the basket in her hands, while a tear slipped down her cheek. “Tommy saved me and my baby that day… what people think or say about me isn’t my business.”

Walking past her sister, Y/N gave her a half smile, wishing they could get the chance to spend more time together, but she understood Lee-Anne still had to obey their parents and live under their rules.

So now people just assumed she was Tommy’s mistress? How easy it is to talk about someone else behind their back and destroy the good things they had done in a few minutes. Just because Tommy decided to support her and her baby.

As if Tommy would see her differently…

Leaning against the wall after walking for a couple of minutes, Y/N finally allowed herself to crumble, the facade of strong, independent woman was slowly overshadowed by the truth, her mother was right. She wasn’t able to push away the tears any longer.

“Are you alright? Can I help you?” A soft voice called after her worryingly.

“Yes, just getting emotional over something silly. Thank you.” Y/N lied at the stranger wiping the tears with the sleeve of her dress.

The woman looked at her not buying her answer, but decided to change the subject. “I might just take a break, do you mind if I wait here?”

“Not at all.” Y/N replied absently, her mind replaying her mother’s words over and over.

She was right though, as much as she wanted to pretend that everything was alright, that she could take anything life decided to throw at her, not having her parents by her side was a consequence she never imagined, she had failed them terribly and their distance was understandable.

“Is someone you know around? You look pale.” The woman studied Y/N’s features.

Y/N shook her head. “I just feel a bit dizzy, it should pass in a minute.”

The woman looked around not really knowing what to do, what if she got sick? What if something happened to the baby?

“I’m Frances, what’s your name dear?” The woman asked trying to think of something in case she needed help. If she knew her name, at least she could look for her family.

“Y/N!” Scudboat shouted from a few feet away. “There you’re.”

“She isn’t feeling alright.” Frances explained.

The blinder took off his peak cap and started rolling it in his hands nervously.

“What’s the matter?” Polly intervened as she joined them.

“She’s dizzy, I was just keeping her company ma’am, in case she needed help.”

Polly stared at the woman for a second, before fishing inside her handbag and retrieving a small flask. “Here, smell this.”

The strong alcohol aroma hit her immediately, Y/N was fighting a silent battle within her heart. The truth that slipped from her mother’s lips, her own reality she couldn’t deny, everything came at her suddenly.

Polly wrapped her arm around Y/N, poor thing looked so lost.

“I think you need to lay down.” Polly suggested in a motherly tone, but she regretted her words, Watery Lane was full of cops searching every corner for evidence, they took Tommy and John as a warning, scared the hell out of Esme, the place was now a mess and with Tommy out of the picture, she knew Y/N couldn’t deal with that right now.

A worried look crossed both Scudboat and Polly’s eyes.

“My place isn’t far away.” The kind Frances offered shyly. “It isn’t much, but she can rest for a while.”

“Yes, wonderful idea.” Polly exclaimed relieved.

“You’re an angel.” Y/N added knowing she really needed to calm down.

“This way, please.” Frances smoothed her skirt, before offering her hand to Y/N. The blinder following their steps carrying the basket.

And it was indeed very close, the kind woman immediately offered Y/N to lean against the cushions and lift her feet up.

“Can I offer you water or some tea?” Frances asked walking towards the window to let some air in. “My home is modest, but there’s always food and tea for anyone.”

Polly thanked her for her thoughtful gesture but had to turn down the tea offer.

“Sorry for the inconvenience, but I really need to go out right now.” Polly apologized, thinking she needed to sort out everything at the betting shop.

“Oh, she can stay here, I live by myself.”

“Polly I don’t want to give Frances any troubles, I’m fine.”

Polly shot Y/N a knowing look. “You need to rest.”

And with that, Y/N knew she wouldn’t win that argument. Polly was the boss and she had to obey.

“What were you buying if you don’t mind me asking?” Frances asked Y/N with interest once that Polly and Scudboat left, she brought the girl a biscuit, the last one she had for the week.

“Some cherries and apples, my grandma and I would bake a pie but I forgot the sugar.”

“I could give you some.”

Y/N lost it in that moment, she started crying inconsolably.

Without asking anything else, or pushing her to talk, tentatively Frances rubbed Y/N’s back in a comforting motion.

“Sorry.” Y/N sobbed, embarrassed by the sudden outburst. “I’ve just been holding it for so long.”

“What is it?”

“Moments before we met at the market, I had an unpleasant encounter with my Mother, she doesn’t approve nor support my pregnancy. I hadn’t seen her for several weeks and I know, I know this is far from the ideal happy family but there’s nothing I can do to turn things around, we had a disagreement and I guess that made me feel sick.”

Y/N took a deep breath and looked at Frances through her wet lashes. “I’m just touched by your generosity, a complete stranger offering me a hand when my own blood doesn’t care about me nor my baby.”

Frances studied her for an instant, then covered her hand in hers.

“I’m sure your mother loves you and this baby, but she’s tied to strict society rules.”

“I wouldn’t bet on that, she does just as my Father’s says, she breaths if he says so.”

“Why don’t you tell me about this woman, Polly?”

Y/N’s eyes sparkled. Polly had always been like an aunt to her, she always had a comforting hug to offer and a word to say when things were wrong.

“She’s Tommy’s aunt, they’re my chosen family now.”

Taking a bite of the biscuit that Frances offered, Y/N adjusted herself to face her. “May I ask about you Frances?”

“We’ll I’m just a newly widow, I went to the market get the ingredients to make jam and tomorrow I’ll go from house to house to sell it.”

Y/N swallowed hard, she was only noticing her completely black attire. How hard it must’ve been to lose her partner and finding a way to make money.

“I’m really sorry to hear that.”

“Thank you. There are good and bad days, but I need to do something to have an income.” Frances let out. A heavy sigh. “I’m running out of my husband’s savings.”

Y/N gave Frances a smile full of sympathy, thinking of a way to help her.

“Can I help you to make the jam?” She offered.

“Only if you’re feeling better.”

“Well if you’ve the courage to make and sell jam, the least I can do is try to help you.”

She always wanted to learn to make jam actually and this was exactly what she needed right now to clear her mind and focus on something to find some peace.

“Do you mind if I ask you who is Tommy?” Frances asked with interest as she started cutting the fruits she’d use for the jam.

A genuine smile spread rapidly among Y/N’s lips. “He’s the best man I know… picked me of the ground and provided me with more than I deserve.”

Frances noticed how the young girl’s eyes lit up as she talked about this man, she assumed he wasn’t the father but a very close person to her heart, but decided to not cross the line and ask anything too personal.

Hitting the steering wheel with his fists, Tommy cursed under his breath. For being so weak, for not anticipating his enemies moves.

The moment that Hughes mentioned Y/N and her baby before Tommy was released from the cell, he felt his blood raising, tensed, alarmed and scared for the first time. He didn’t like the fact that Hughes knew about Y/N, the threaten he slipped didn’t go unnoticed by Tommy.

“It would be a shame that poor Y/N goes through the same that happened to your aunt…”- he had been so close to punch him in the face and smash his head against the brick wall, but Tommy knew he was trying to provoke him.

Parking outside Arrow House, he stormed inside the property, terrified to learn by Hughes that they delivered the baby’s furniture that afternoon.

Aware of this failure to protect her, Tommy rushed upstairs, heart pumping against his ribs, worry installed on his shoulders.

Finding Y/N stepping outside her bedroom, she was telling him about the furniture delivered and that her grandma had been visiting earlier, but he went straight to the crib, frantically looking for something.

“What’s wrong Tommy?” Y/N asked not understanding his actions.

“Has someone been here?” He demanded out of breath.

“Just the delivery men.”

As he lifted the mattress, he stopped abruptly at the sight of a card.

There it was, the direct threat towards an unborn child. Tommy decided to hide it inside his suit jacket. Defeated, he walked backwards until his body found the opposite wall.

“Tommy?” Y/N’s voice trembled. “You promised to leave the illegal stuff behind.”

“And I’m trying, I swear I’m trying.”

Y/N saw his recklessness fade away, he was just a man trying to do the right thing, but it was just him against the world.

Eliminating the space between them, Y/N caressed his face.

“I know you’ll keep us safe.” She assured him. “Hmm?”

Fixing his eyes on her, he knew he’d get a bullet for her in a heartbeat.

But now he could only think of her baby, Y/N couldn’t even come close to imagine the risk she was facing.

“Listen to me…” Tommy stated breaking their embrace, taking her face between his hands. “I won’t let anything happen to you, do you understand?”

Not waiting for an answer, he kissed the top of her head softly and pulled her back into his arms. Looking around the nursery, it was slowly coming together, it now had the furniture, Y/N talked about knitting a blanket and her grandmother was making a piece for the baby.

He needed to find out who the hell leaked Y/N’s information to Father Hughes and how did they manage to walk into his house to place that note in the crib.

And he needed to do it before they could hurt Y/N and her baby.

Two days later, she was back to thank Frances for her kindness.

“I won’t take long.” Y/N announced at Tommy’s driver. He had been adamant about her not being alone for a second so now she had a chaperone watching her every move.

It had been a busy day at the institution, Y/N had lots of work to do, unfortunately she had been feeling sick most of the morning, so she gave up and decided to get some air. Heading to the market, she bought a sack of flour, vegetables, eggs, milk, a couple of fresh baguettes and headed towards Frances’ house.

It wasn’t her intention, but since the window was open, she overheard the conversation unfolding inside.

“If you know what’s best for you, you’ll accept my proposal.” A man said before walking outside.

Y/N tried to pretend she was knocking on the house next door and waited until the man was out of her eyesight to call out for Frances.

“Frances, are you alright?”

Y/N rushed without waiting to be invited inside, leaving the basket next to her feet.

“No… that man says my husband, my Bert gave him the papers of our house in exchange for some money he needed, but he didn’t get the chance to pay for the loan.” Frances cried.

A gasp escaped Y/N’s lips, this was a mess.

“Take a deep breath.” Y/N proposed not knowing what to do. “Do you’ve someone who can help you?”

“No… I’m on my own.”

With a sigh, Y/N took a look around the small unit, Frances came from a harder background than her, her whole house was the size of her living room, and she had everything there; kitchen, bathroom, bed and the living room. Pondering in the options, decided to do what Tommy had done for her; help without asking questions.

“Why don’t you prepare a bag with your essentials and we’ll figure out the rest later.” Y/N proposed straightening her back.

“But I’ve nowhere to go.” Frances explained.

“You do, I’m taking you somewhere.”

Eventually, they arrived at the Institution, Y/N explained Frances she could stay there while it started operations, it wasn’t properly a house, but there was a sofa to sleep on, and a kitchen with the utensils she might need.

“How can I thank you for this?” Frances needed answers, feeling overwhelmed.

“No need, you helped me the other day… I’m just returning the favor.”

She would see later if there was an open position that Frances could take either at the Institution or the betting shop with Tommy, but for now, she had the day covered.

Next part

🥰 I hope you enjoyed reading this part! Let me know in the comments what you think? ✨

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[wickjump]

What's ur opinion on ink neglecting/forgetting his children (paperjam, gradient)?

I personally hate it

awful. you are so right, asker. everyone be more like katyalice they know what’s up. its literally the worst thing this fandom has made and im only partly exaggerating. do you think he wouldn’t be fucking ecstatic to have made something alive? if ink can remember the names of his parents whom he doesn’t see every day he would remember the names of his kids who he raises. even if the other parent isn’t in the picture he would try to be the best parent he could be.

like. kids come with so much possibilities. he’d go overboard making the best room he could even if they’re an infant who doesn’t need that many clothes or decorations. he would have a calendar in every room so he has something to remind him of events like birthdays and holidays he otherwise wouldn’t remember to celebrate. kids are interesting, they’re something he would spend so much time adoring. he gets to participate in the life of something he created? he would fucking love that!!!!!

he would be so involved in their lives because he probably didn’t even think he’d ever get this chance. he can’t create aus, he can’t create life. and then suddenly this baby exists?? and it’s HIS??? he’d love being a parent. he would have photos of his kids on him and brag about them even if he might mix up names from time to time. he would be ink-level of weird about it—a kid would come home being all angsty and ink would clap and say “ooh, now we’re in the edgy phase!!! i mean. go to your room.” he treats the kid more ‘real’ than he treats people from aus because this kid, in his eyes, is just like him. there’s no au that made them, no script, they were born outside of the multiverse with no story planned for them as far as he is aware!!! this kid is real.

and im not saying his memory loss just wouldn’t exist. i can see him mixing up names and/or faces. i can see him occasionally missing events or mixing up dates. i can see him forgetting that his kids, unlike him, need to eat until they remind him and then making food for them later than normal. but if he has an other parent there (which would definitely be the case with dream or swap, 50/50 for error depending on interpretation) they would help him with those things. they would help because that’s what partners and parents who give a shit do. his memory loss being portrayed as the trait of a villain is weird to me.

if he has kids and his memory issues are so severe that he cannot remember they exist or to take care of him, then he also shouldn’t remember the names or faces of friends or his parents or literally anyone else. his memory would not suddenly fail for specifically his kids because you want shipchild angst. it’s just. not good writing to completely mischaracterize one character for the sake of building up another.

and making ink abusive is just. no??? in his faq it says he tries to solve issues with words first and this would not change especially in a home environment??? if he doesn’t attack strangers because he wants to see if there’s another way to get around this, then he is definitely not someone who would hit his kids or partners. who do you think he is because your ink privileges should be taken away if you think this

[acoraxia]

What are your thoughts on shadowpeach?

Fandom wise? I do not care for it.

Canon wise? I believe in men committing crimes while forming the most toxic, unhealthy attachments to one person could lead to such a dysfunctional relationship that it, eventually, turns into a functional one. And also they’re trans and aspec.

Disclaimer: this is all my opinion and people can do whatever they want, i simply have my gripes with some of the fandom stuff. this is just me explaining what i like and dislike about shadowpeach.

I think the most common thing people fall into when it comes to ships—or shipping in general—is how to domesticate these two characters without fully addressing their flaws, personalities, behavior, and their overall choices throughout the original media/show they come from. 

Macaque and SWK both suffer equally through this mischaracterization: Macaque is often painted as this shy or “edgy” character with little to no ties to his actual character in canon and, more often than not, he is perceived as this “dad” type of character when, in fact, he should not be allowed near children for I fear he will bully them nonstop until they sit there in the corner feeling disheartened and miserable about themselves; Sun Wukong is often portrayed as this dumb himbo with little-to-no means of understanding social cues, not understanding emotions in a way that’s very frustrating, and be this yearning, pining idiot who’s still longing for his childhood crush when he did not hesitate to punch this guy in the face multiple times throughout the show. So when they are paired up together it’s this weird mash of people believing Macaque is the better dad with more understanding of human behavior and Wukong is his dumb, doting husband who’s doing his best and cannot stand up for himself when confronted about things.

The amount of times people choose to make Macaque sympathetic by having Sun Wukong’s family side with Macaque when it comes to Wukong’s actions/choices is so vast I could not count them all on one hand. The common trope of having Princess Iron Fan (Sun Wukong’s sister-in-law) become Macaque’s sworn sister is so disheartening to see for someone who read through Journey To The West and thought of how silly the overall family dynamic of the Demon Bull Family and Sun Wukong’s troops was. Removing Iron Fan as Sun Wukong’s literal sister just to have someone backup Macaque and sympathize with him is funny and a bit silly. 

That being said… the canon version of Shadowpeach and its possibilities are, in fact, very delicious.

Canon wise this is what we know about Sun Wukong and Macaque’s history together: 

Sun Wukong and Macaque meet

The brotherhood is formed after Azure meets Sun Wukong, Macaque tags along with Wukong (note: Macaque is not addressed as “brother” by the characters, only Wukong is)

Macaque tries to warn Wukong about how dealing with Heaven might be a bad idea

They share a peach under a tree; Wukong reassures Macaque this plan will work

Wukong carries on with Azure’s plan anyway (yes, azure lion’s plan, not wukong’s)

The brotherhood is defeated and Wukong gets trapped under a mountain

Presumably no one comes to visit Wukong, only Macaque

During his final visit, Wukong is angry that Macaque is free and can’t see the fact that Wukong was trying to do everything for them and his kingdom

Macaque snaps back at Wukong and calls him an obsessive demon before leaving

They have another fallout and fight

Wukong ends up killing Macaque in the aftermath

500~ years later, Macaque and Wukong fight again with Wukong being more apathetic towards their reunion than Macaque is

Macaque obsesses over Wukong continuously (coughs)

Macaque is biased in his retellings of his and Wukong’s relationship (see: all of shadowplay and the scrolls memories)

They fight (again) throughout S3

They somewhat reconcile by the end of S4

We will address the fact Sun Wukong was groomed into going to war by this former celestial warrior instead of having it be because of his own want to protect his family and friends after Heaven refused to pay him the respect he wanted when he first joined their ranks later. Right now we focus on the fact that Sun Wukong is canonically a person people easily fall in love with (platonically) and have a tendency to want to stay close to regardless of what his future actions will be like and Macaque is sequentially obsessed with him throughout the show.

“The hero and the warrior were like the Sun and the Moon. Their light, a protective glow, shining upon the world. Together, there was nothing that could stop the two of them. Either in the Celestial Realms or on Earth. As time went on, the hero attained power beyond comprehension. As the hero's light grew, so too did his shadow. And soon, the warrior was cast in that shadow. In the darkness, the warrior was forgotten by the hero.”

Fun fact: Macaque is never going to be on par with Sun Wukong’s power and he works best as support than he does a duo-attacker along side Wukong. Wukong is on his own power level and Macaque, while being able of holding his own against enemies, could be stomped to death by Xiaoijiao is he crossed the line.

Macaque’s obsession with Sun Wukong comes from the inability to move on from the past; Macaque wanting things to go back as they were is a subtle theme going through the show — he keeps latching on to biased memories and avoiding the actual problems that caused their relationship to fall apart and it isn’t until Season 3’s big confrontation with Long Xiaojiao’s Samadhi Fire ritual. He realizes he abandoned Wukong during a time of need and proceeds to flee, abandoning him again. 

Macaque has issues. More often than not people call out on Sun Wukong for abandoning Xiaotian or the Monkie Kid Crew all while ignoring the fact Sun Wukong does not purposefully leave Qi Xiaotian, he tries his hardest to make it back in time and is visibly scared/horrified when LBD attacks in his absence. Sun Wukong tries his hardest to comfort Xiaotian while Macaque tries to torment him. 

Regardless, Sun Wukong and Macaque’s relationship is unique to most media’s portrayal of friends turned enemies. Because Wukong does not see Macaque as a threat up until he teams up with Lady Bone Demon — he is only scary by association, not by anything he has done up until that point. You can tell with the way Wukong mocks him and calls him something akin to a puppet during their interaction in Season 3 when Macaque trapped him and Nezha in the ice. 

And even then Macaque doesn’t even bother trying to engage with Wukong in a friendly manner because kindness is for losers HA i’m not apologizing for anything, bye Sun Wukong, you big old LOSER [proceeds to possibly live on the streets and stay homeless until wukong allows him to return to ffm under certain house rules]

You’ll notice that Sun Wukong barely has any opinions on Macaque.

This is because Macaque is favored by the narrative more than Sun Wukong is so we have very little context as to how Sun Wukong genuinely feels towards Macaque. 

Sun Wukong sees Macaque as an annoyance, a bother, a threat, a coward, an imposter and then, finally, an ally. 

But all we get from that is Wukong handing Macaque a peach-flavored ice cream pop as a parallel to him sharing a peach with his old friend back when they were young monkeys before he was trapped under a mountain for 500 years as a result of his abuser’s power hold on him that forced him to fight heaven as a way to “make the world a better place”. 

We love to see it.

Macaque and Wukong’s relationship goes from mutual interest and a supportive friendship established years prior to the original building of the brotherhood to a very weird, uncategorized type of dynamic. The only way to characterize Sun Wukong’s “affection” towards Macaque is, possibly, the same way most people would characterize Macaque to be towards Wukong. Y’know the slightly judgmental actions and eye rolls and scoffs of affection most people write about Macaque when Wukong does something stupid? Yeah.

“But Macaque said “this guy” when Wukong was presenting his plan to defeat Azure—“ yeah have you considered Wukong does a lot of masking in the presence of the entire Monkie Kid Crew and Macaque has a tendency to present himself as this cool persona when in fact he’s just a homeless monkey who’s been crashing on his ex’s couch for the past weeks since the ending of Season 3? 

“OK…. but why QPR Shadowpeach?”

Sun Wukong throughout the course of Journey to the West and all its past and future iterations have always had him be uninterested in both men and women. There are multiple instances where he’s capable of courting women and he instead backs away or does not pay it any mind; aside from this he’s heavily implied to only care about familial love and friendships. He does not see his pilgrim brothers as anything more than family and he views Tripitaka as a mentor rather than someone whom he was chained to. And Azure was his idol and he was groomed by him, and everyone else was viewed to him as a troop — or, y’know, a family.

This and the fact that— both Sun Wukong and Macaque are over a thousand years old. Why on earth would they have a normal type of relationship? Giving them a checklist of what passes on as romantic and platonic when to them the line is so blurred it’s barely existent to them is amusing. 

Sun Wukong and Macaque having their own weird relationship where it changes from frustrated best friends to partners to angry middle aged demons to the tired traumatized immortals who sometimes cuddle while still beating each other up is so deliciously interesting and unhealthy to the point where it is healthy. 

Also Celestial bodies are not the same as mortal bodies; canonically Sun Wukong has transformed into women before and people have addressed him with female-leaning pronouns before. my personal headcanon of sun wukong being genderfluid lves on and now we can have sapphic shadowpeach with transfem macaque.

also im still feverish so if this doesnt make sense then too bad damn im sorry

[ayrtonswnna]

ʚïɞ "OSCAR WINS!" OP81

↳ masterlist ↳ drop a request! ↳ more osc! <3

✧₊⁺ oscar piastri x renée smith (autistic!female oc)

✧₊⁺ summary: renée gets too overwhelmed at the abu dhabi gp; her boyfriend has to work it out.

✧₊⁺ warnings: overstimulated character, character pushing past her own boundaries, self-harming regulation methods, verbal stims, the ending could be a bit better.

✧₊⁺ a/n: i wrote a few autistic characters before but i am well aware this is not my ground to step in, have in mind that i am an educator, i study for that and have and had neurodivergent students, i took several classes and courses under the theme, a lot of researches and studies. i tried to portray renée as accurate as possible and took my time reading from neurodivergent people, but in case you know better, feel completely free to talk to me and let me know any possible mistake!

Oscar and Renée have been together for eleven months now; they're nearing their one-year anniversary. By this point, they have found their way around each other's routines and ways.

He understood her in ways few people did and as fast as he drives. Having a neurodivergent girlfriend brought a lot to the table for the sweetest boyfriend. He knew she wouldn’t mind the paddock if she could arrive early and miss the crowd, dodge the attention and hang out in the box, the papaya headphones wrapping her curls, and the fidgeting toy hanging between her fingers. It would work just fine.

They'd have lunch together, and she'd stay around with his sister, who was also very kind and made it easy to just be. But it's Abu Dhabi, it's the title race. Of course, the box would be heated, and of course, she had to keep it together. It was Oscar's moment; he worked towards that and deserved a perfect night.

So by the last lap, everyone is going crazy. The mechanics and engineers were all so happy and excited. She found it incredibly amazing how they were all just family and bouncy. But it could never be her. Even though she tried. The headphones couldn't keep out the noise, and the corner she found herself in started feeling only smaller and smaller.

As the noise in the paddock rose, Renée felt the familiar pressure building in her chest. The sounds were like an avalanche, each one crashing down and piling on top of the last. She squeezed her fidget toy, trying to focus on its texture, but the edges of her vision blurred. "Just a few more hours," she told herself, her mind racing to find an anchor in the chaos.

She just had to make it out alive and wait until it was time to go back to the hotel.

"Put on a shirt, Miss Piastri! It’s a world-champion’s environment!" one of the mechanics said, throwing a papaya piece of fabric she had to focus on to catch. He was just being nice, trying to include her in the celebration.

"Thanks," she tried, unfolding the shirt and cursing herself once she saw the tag in the back of the collar.

Alright, just a few more hours. So she put on the shirt, watching as the people got ready to welcome the drivers back in the box.

Oscar took longer to show up; it was a tough race. He was received in the crew's arms, and Renée just focused on the happy moment. He might be feeling so many things right now she couldn't just interrupt that. The thing is she also couldn't unravel her mind from the unsettling feeling, and the tag at the back of her neck kept tickling her skin.

"Heeey, baby! World champion, huh?" he said, approaching with open arms, a wide smile on his face as he put a cap on. "Look at you! All in papaya!"

She smiled through her thoughts, wrapping her arms around his waist before pecking his lips. But he noticed, he always did.

"Congratulations, baby. I knew you'd make it. Best in the world."

"Your words, not mine," he smiled, fixing the headphones over her head and touching the shirt so casually it felt natural. "Are you alright? It’s so noisy out here," he said nicely, while twirling the piece of harder fabric before pulling the tag off like it was a thin piece of paper.

"It's alright," Renée smiled again. "I am just happy. Really happy. I know how much you wanted this. How are you feeling?"

"So great! It’s better than I thought it would be; I can’t even describe." His bunny-teethed smile almost made her forget how overwhelming it all felt. "Really, really happy you're here with me; I don’t think I’d make it without you."

"Of course you would, you're Oscar Piastri! F3 and F2 back to back, McLaren driver. It's you," she shoved him softly, unconsciously flinching when she heard the team screaming over something.

"Love you."

"I love you too, baby. Are you sure you want to stay? I can dodge it for a bit if you want me to."

"No! No, it's ok. You're a world champ! You gotta celebrate."

"But I can always—"

"Oscar! You can celebrate with your girlfriend later! Pop more champagne, you know? Now come here!" Of course, Lando Norris.

A fun one.

"Go, baby. I'll be here, ok? It's your moment."

"Are you—"

"Yes! Yes, I am. Now go!"

"Alright, but if you need to… We can head off. Alright? Promise you're gonna tell me if anything happens. Please," he insisted, kissing her lips once again.

"Yes. Promise."

"Great. Love you, bub. I'll be back." One more kiss, and then he's off. And Renée can only hold herself together for the next few hours. The fidgeting toy couldn't handle the job anymore, and by the end of the night, her skin had bruises all over her hands from picking it between her fingers repeatedly for self-regulation.

At this point, she was already non-verbal, and the small cuts around her hands were being overcut. Oscar cursed himself once he saw his girlfriend sitting on one of the couches in the corner, the cold wind almost unnoticed by her numbed brain. Like she could just disassociate.

He knew she couldn't, though. He knew her mind was racing too fast, and they should've left hours ago.

"Hey, bub. Hey. Let's go, ok? I am taking you to the hotel, alright? Yes or no?"

Oscar could guess everything at this point; she probably wouldn't talk, but they worked just fine with yes or no questions and head nods. So she nodded her head yes, and he offered his hand, now noticing hers were just too busy.

"Baby, hey. It's alright. Let's just… Just leave. Do you want a paper sheet?"

He knew some alternatives for the self-harming stims; paper for her to rip into small pieces, a warm bag. He took his time finding out what worked better, and when she didn't react, he knew it had to go his way. She was not going to answer, and he wouldn't let her keep hurting herself. So he just wandered off to the engineering table and grabbed any sheet of paper, putting it in between her hands. A sigh of relief left his chest as she accepted the paper.

"Great, there you go, darling… You're doing great. Let's go? Take a shower?"

Now she nodded. Renée got to her feet, accepting being cooed until they were on their way to the car that awaited them, making him remember he had to deal with Lando, who was also going to take the ride.

"Lan, look. Renée isn't ok, I think she's overstimulated. Can you take another car? I need to take her back, and she needs to calm down," he said, making sure to let his teammate get close enough before talking.

"Oh—sure!" He glanced quickly and automatically at the girl, getting the situation right away. "It's just fine, I can go with Andrea or one of the guys. It's alright, go. Call me if you need anything."

"Thanks, mate. You're the best."

"I know." He broke the ice his way around, stopping halfway to give them some space. "See you tomorrow!"

Oscar nodded before opening the car door, still cooing his girlfriend inside and exchanging a few words with the driver. The piece of paper was now shattered and missing parts, so he improvised with a bold one, his own hand. Renée was always cautious when he offered her that, not wanting to hurt her boyfriend.

So she just kept moving his fingertips up and down, looking out the window until they were at the hotel room.

Finally, there was silence. Oscar closed the windows and emptied the bed, knowing really well Renée would be lying on the floor as soon as he turned around.

"Doing great, bub. Really great. I'm taking your shoes off, ok?"

She nodded. Fingers still fighting between themselves, her mind just too clouded to process anything. Damn, it was Oscar's night; it was supposed to be his moment, and she felt like she ruined it all. Such a bother, an inconvenience.

Oscar would never think of it like that, though. He was just too focused on taking her shoes off and checking on her properly, just to make sure she was not hurting herself.

"Do you want to stay on the floor? It’s pretty chill, right?" His patience was always one of his best virtues. It’d allow her to get comfortable, and it’d be one less pressure.

"Yes," she managed to say, her boyfriend smiling softly as the word left her lips. "Oscar wins!"

Renée had some verbal stims; she made her way around them often, and Oscar could be surprised sometimes, once she saw a TikTok video about his contract story with Alpine and kept saying, "I understand that… Without my agreement…" every now and then.

But the "Oscar wins!" was the cutest; Oscar loved it.

"Yeah, sometimes he does." He chuckled. "Are we ok? Do you need something?"

"Hu-hum." She hiccupped. "Don’t want to bother."

"You never bother me, bub. Is there something I can do right now? Or do we like the floor?"

"We like it," she kept the few words dynamic. "And Oscar wins!"

"Oscar wins, yes." Again, he let out a soft chuckle, looking around for what to do next. "Can I take the headphones off? It’s quiet in here."

"Yes, it's fine." Renée did the job herself, taking the piece away and letting Oscar grab it. "I'm sorry, okay?"

"Nothing to be sorry about, baby. We need to rest anyways." Oscar wanted to say he's the one who should be apologizing; he imagined she'd get overstimulated and overwhelmed inside the garage and still, he let her stay, trusting her words even knowing damn well she wouldn't want to interrupt his celebration.

So he just understood he had to try to make it up. Renée was all about space, he knew she'd come around for contact when she wanted to and it was just them on a regular basis. She loved cuddling, but Oscar would just wait until she approached by herself. Always making it clear when touching, always asking. The kindest of the kinds.

"Oscar wins!" she repeated, taking a bit of impulse until she could flip and lay on her belly, making a pillow with her arms. "You are amazing, Osc. I don't deserve you, you can't do all of that for me."

"Don't say that," he mouthed, keeping the tone serious but trying to be chill. "Don't say that, I love you and you deserve every care in the world. You deserve every bit of my time."

"Love you too," it was the first thing her mind caught. "Not every bit… Because Oscar wins! And I can't be with you inside the car."

"Yeah, bub. Unfortunately, you won't fit inside the car." He chuckled, laughing at how simple this talk could be. "But you fit right into my bed! Do you want to shower so we can sleep?"

"Yes, I think I have champagne on me. Can we have a cold shower?"

"You can have your cold shower and then I can take my warm one. No cold water for me." He kept the chill voice tone, giving himself the job to grab her clothes and towels. "Let's go, baby. We are exhausted."

"Because Oscar wins!" she stimmed her way around as she stood up.

The verbal stims are usually her least favorite ones, they were noisy and they caught more attention. But this one was just a way to let Osc know she was really happy about the world title. And he could get that pretty easily.

"Oscar and the team win," he laughed, waiting for her by the bathroom door. "Go for your cold shower, I'll keep you company."

"Yes. Osc, you're the best boyfriend."

"And you are the best girlfriend."

ʚïɞ ayrtonswnna, 2024. requests are open (: reblogs and feedback are always welcome (:

[newbiespud]

I'm sure it's been said before but I'll say it myself because why not

The game In Stars and Time makes for a revealing contrast to the movie Groundhog Day in how they treat their final time loop and how that reflects on the main character. (Even though, if I remember right, the dev largely wasn't aware of Groundhog Day when they came up with ISAT.)

Spoilers for both after the break, I guess.

In Groundhog Day, Phil starts out narcissistic and self-centered, has the realization that he can live life without consequences, gets depressed after having tried and done everything that he's got everyone and everything memorized so that nothing can delight and surprise him anymore, and finally escapes when he performs a loop that proves that a better, happier world is within his grasp to make, not something owed to him, and that he is happy with the life he has today, not always pining for his ambitions for the future.

In... In Stars and Time, Siffrin starts out deflecting and aloof, has the realization that they can do this perfectly - 'this' being not only the impossible challenge of defeating the King but navigating their relationships with their party - gets depressed after hitting wall after wall and repeatedly fumbling into faux pas after faux pas with their party, and finally escapes when they perform a loop where their true feelings come out, no matter how ugly, and they're honest about their own desires and wishes rather than trying to keep up an ideal façade.

Plenty of people have pointed out that In Stars and Time subverts the 'escaping on the perfect loop' time-loop trope that Groundhog Day largely codifies. Not only does the 'perfect' loop completely fail, Siffrin escapes on arguably the 'worst' loop, the one where they rightfully worry that they've hurt and alienated their loves ones forever and cannot escape those consequences anymore.

But I don't think this contrast is as direct as it seems, even though one could say that Phil got away scot-free compared to Siffrin and that In Stars and Time is the superior story for portraying a harsher outcome. (I do think that exploration and advancement of tropes is just inevitable and even healthy over time, and Groundhog Day came out in 1993 so of course it and the tropes it spawned deserve modern critique, but I digress.) I actually think that it reflects how both stories and the mechanics of their time loops are built around their main characters. (There's also something to be said about how genre shapes narrative since GD is an existential comedy and ISAT is an action-adventure focusing on interpersonal drama, but that's another digression.)

ISAT makes an impact on the whole time loop genre with its clever subversion, but like all the best subversive stories, it's couched in strong characters that embody its themes.

And to take a broader perspective, the best time loop stories are allegories for the real-life situation of making the same mistakes over and over again caused by your own deep-seated personality flaws, and being forced to finally confront your inner demons and overcome them and become a better, healthier person. (Relatable, much?)

Phil is a man who's never happy with his lot in life, so he needs to learn to find the eternal richness and beauty of what he has within his grasp, and that a better, happier life is something he can make for himself. Thus, he escapes on the 'best' loop.

Siffrin is a person who refuses to share their true feelings and problems with others to the point of self-destruction (and complete reinvention in one aspect), so they need to learn that no matter how ugly and twisted they think they are, being open and honest doesn't mean their loved ones will care about them any less, even when Siffrin is seen at their lowest point possible. Thus, they escape on the 'worst' loop.

It's not just clever subversion, it's holistic circular story structure!

...Though maybe I'm just drawn to these stories because I, too, would like some extra time to Figure Some Shit Out and have that time come with some superpowers along the way, even if it nearly destroys me in the process.

[tyunkus]

perv

pairing: bf!huening kai x fem!reader summary: maybe kai is more of a pervert than he lets on. maybe you like it.

wc: 2.2k 

warnings: reader is fem!bodied and referred to as a girl multiple times!!! dont read if that makes u uncomfy pls! there is also: established relationship, both of you are horny af Thus the references to being a perv and whatnot, making out, LOTS OF BEGGING from both reader n hyuka kinda, dirty talk (praise with elements of degradation n humiliation), pet names (baby, angel, good girl), penetrative, No condom (practice safe sex lovelies), not rly breeding but breeding-adjacent (hyuka comes inside u <3), some stuttering i guess cuz kai is nervous n opening up his sexual horizons but it’s all cute and mushy, kai talks a lot in this he can’t shut up ur pussy’s too perfect babe

note: less plot than amazon wishlist sorry hehe i just wanted to write cutesy kai trying his hand at dirty talk with his perfect sexy gf (you)! i love him so bad guys i tried to portray him as best as possible but i might have failed miserably and if i did you’re allowed to egg my house ALSOOOO kinda rushed and not proofread and unbeta-ed im so sorry the ending SUCKSSSS

ALSO! if you were wondering why it seems familiar i based this ask off of the draft for this

“Can I kiss you?” Kai asks.

He always asks first, even though he knows you will always say yes. And you always feel so fluttery whenever he does, even though you’ve kissed him so many times now his lips feel familiar when they nudge against yours. It usually starts out like this—just the two of you on his bed, straddling his hips as he looks up at you. He says it’s his favorite perspective of you, which you’re not sure you understand. But Kai is always firm in his opinions of you, so you don’t mind.

“Please, please,” you say, and so he does, lips slotting against yours, soft, soft. Kai makes a quiet noise, reaches up to brush away your hair. His hands, so large and warm where he keeps them on your waist, just above your hip. 

“So pretty. My pretty baby,” he murmurs, and your heart sings. You bunch your hands up in his shirt, breathe him in. You want to bite him.

“Kai. Kai.”

“Yes? Hm?”

“Please. I want—I want—” The worst part is you can’t even verbalize what you want, either, but you’re squirming and panting on his lap, lips slick with his spit, and there’s honestly not many messages that those movements could possibly allude to other than I want your cock. “I—please, Kai, ah.”

“Gonna make me crazy,” Kai says, voice teetering on a whine. “Your noises. So cute. Want more, pretty? More?”

You kiss him again, drinking in his words, running your hands through his hair. Cute, cute. He’s breathing heavily, nose bumping against your cheek. Hours, you could spend hours just kissing him. Cute. You don’t realize you say it out loud until Kai makes a high noise at the back of his throat.

“Angel—so beautiful—I wanna—ah, can I, please—”

You take his wrist, guide his hand to the waistband of your pajamas. “Can you?” you ask, almost beg, your fingers trembling where they fold around his wrist. “Kai, please, I want you to touch me.”

You trail off when you see Kai’s expression, tentative and unsure. “Baby,” he whispers, tipping you down towards him so he can press a mountain of kisses against the column of your throat. His hand brushes over the hem of your underwear, soothing the divide between skin and bright pink lace. The warmth of his hand ghosts over you, where you ache the most, and you try not to sound too pathetic when you whine. “Baby, baby, shh, you know I want to.”

“Then do it,” you plead, your legs practically shaking with how badly you want it. Need it. You could hate him for not giving it to you. You could, but Kai likes good girls, and that’s what you are. What you want to be.

“Be a good girl,” Kai instructs, gently, his voice wavering still. There it is—Kai’s kinks slipping through the cracks. Finally, after you had to go through all the work to shatter it yourself. He’s still so shy about it, sounding so unsure when he talks dirty to you, but you can tell he finds it hot, with how red his cheeks get. “Not now, baby. Be good for me, don’t you want to be good?”

“Please,” you plead, completely ignoring him, inching the tips of your fingernails up and down his chest, his shoulders, his throat. You lean down until your face is practically buried in his hair, and you can feel his breath hit your tummy, his hands pressing down on your waist. “Kaaaaaiiiiii.”

But he only giggles brightly, face breaking into a smile against your skin. He loves this, gets off on this dynamic—you are normally the one taking the lead, but in here, like this, it’s Kai who gets to play with you the way he wants, coax reactions out of you with every touch. Treat you like a princess, be in charge, because it’s only in bed that he wants to. You can order him around during the daytime as much as you like, as long as he gets to fuck you up the way he wants.

“Want it that bad, sweetheart?” he murmurs, planting a kiss on your tummy. “So bad you’re practically gagging for it, huh? Want something else to gag on?”

You squeeze your eyes shut. “Shut up,” you cry, heart fluttering at the way he giggles right after. “Fuck me first, please, I want it so bad.”

Kai coos at you, rubbing his hands along the sides of your thighs. “I know, baby, I know. Let me flip you over, sweetheart, I’ll take care of my cute baby.” And so he does, gently lifting you off of his crotch and letting you land softly on your back; he slides you a glittering smile, then settles his hands between your legs once again. “Want me to finger you first?”

You nod. “Anything, want anything. Please. Just you.”

Kai hums. “Anything? What if I made you get– get off on my thigh, hm? I…” He trails off here, steadies his breath. You can see the way his gaze trails down your body, hungry, wanting. “What if I used one of your cute toys on you, took it away right before you came? Would you… would you still want that?”

“Don’t care, Kai, just want you—you can do anything, anything, please—”

Kai groans and buries his face in your neck, thumbing over your clothed cunt. “F-fuck, baby,” he rumbles against your skin, feeling his fingertips dip inside you, slippery with your wetness. “So worked up over— over just a bit of touching, fuck, what a cute baby. So horny for me, for my cock, right?”

You let out a moan, your hips bucking up to meet his fingers. “Mhm, yes, Kai. Give me, give it to me.”

“Okay, okay, I will.” Kai presses a kiss to your cheek, so unfitting and filthy compared to his fingers rubbing over you. He pulls back slightly to look you in the eye. You can sense the flicker of nervousness underneath. “I’m not gonna last very long. Probably. ’S that okay?”

“That’s fine,” you breathe. “I don’t care. Just… I just want you inside of me.”

“I can do that,” Kai chokes, and you laugh. “Could I– could I fuck you like this?”

“Like what?”

Kai pokes your waist. “Missionary?” he says like it’s an offer, the corners of his lips rising when you squirm. “I want to see your face while I fuck you. You always look so pretty like that.”

Your cheeks heat and you look away. “You’re a perv. But okay, sure.”

“You’re the perv. Got all horny when we we’re just making out.” He presses a wet kiss to your cheek. “What if I had just wanted to kiss you, huh? Just some pure, innocent making out.”

“Sorry. You get me all worked up.”

Kai giggles. “I know. Love hearing you say it.” He hums while he takes off his sweatpants, and you do the same—you’re still tugging off your shirt when you feel his fingers brush against the clasp of your bra.

“You desperate?” you tease, letting him take it off for you.

Kai nods solemnly, moving down so his bare hips are parallel to yours. “Hell yeah,” he says, but you’re looking so intently at his cock that you forget to laugh. “Quit staring, perv.”

“You’re so annoying,” you shoot back, but there’s no bite, and he only smiles, taking the base of his cock to align himself with you. There’s a bare second of quiet, where you can hear both of your breaths, bated and waiting, and you can see the desperation—the hunger—in Kai’s face.

“Can I put it in now, baby?” he breathes. “Please? F-fuck, please?”

Shit. You might go insane if he keeps this up, begging prettily for you before he even gets his cock inside. You whine and nod, breath hitching when his fingers graze your tits. “Please, Kai,” you whimper. “Please, yes, please.”

Kai grabs the base of his cock again and eases the tip past your folds, his heart beating wildly. He breathes heavily, his other hand steady on your hip, so large compared to your smaller frame. “Jesus fucking Christ. You feel so good,” he says, trying not to sound too whiny when he barely put it in, but you don’t even notice, trembling beneath him. His brows furrow, lost in your warmth, but he manages to muster a smile. “You okay, angel?”

“Yeah.” Your voice is high and reedy. Your hands bunch up in the sheets. “Put—more, more, please.”

“Sure, sweetheart,” he responds, sounding on the verge of tears, because he quite honestly is about to cry with how tight you feel already. He eases more in, slowly, letting you take it in inch by inch, relishing in the feeling. A few moments pass and your hips finally meet; you let out twin sighs of relief. Kai leans over to mouth at your shoulder, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Shiiit, baby, you feel fucking good.”

You only moan in response, almost drooling onto the sheets. Kai stays still for a while, letting you get used to it, marvelling at how wet you are.

“Shit, I could be inside you forever. Oh, fuck. W-would you let me? Hm? Ah, would you let me—shit—fuck this t-tight cunt everyday? Want me to be inside you all the time, right? Isn’t that right, baby?” Kai taps your cheek and you just sob, backing your hips against his desperately. Kai lets out a giggle, and it’s so high-pitched and out of place you would probably scold him if you were in any other state of mind.

Alas, instead you’re trembling beneath him as he pounds you, whining and drooling on the sheets because his cock feels so good. It should be embarrassing. It definitely is. But you can’t find it in yourself to care.

“You’re a f-fucking pervert,” you whine.

Kai breaks into a smile, so wide and so fucking proud of himself. You can tell, even through your hazy mind, and it makes your heart swell. “Shit, I must have a good fuckin’ cock if I got you all f-fucked up like this,” he murmurs, using his free hand to play with your nipples. “I love you so much, angel. Love making you feel good.” The filth falls so easily from his mouth that it’s hard for you to believe that not one hour ago Kai was struggling to even call you a good girl.

“Luh—fuck, love you too, Kai,” you wail, bringing your hands up to splay across your face. “Please, please keep going, f-feels so good—”

“You’re so shy,” Kai whispers, his expression melting into a grin. He reaches up, pinches your cheeks. “How are you still so shy, hm? Your pussy is weeping onto my cock and you’re acting like this? So cute. Wanna fuck you so hard.”

“You already are,” you whine, reaching up to slap weakly at his chest. “Fuck, why are you t-talking so much?”

Kai giggles again. “Feels so good, that’s why. Your pussy’s making my brain melt. Fuck.” He gives a particularly hard thrust here, then moves his hand to rub over your tummy. “’M gonna come soon. Love you—I love you so much. Where do you want it, angel? Inside?”

“Mmm—yeah, fuck, please.”

“Gonna fuck you til your pussy’s all white and mine, alright? Fuck it back into you so it stays there, ffff-fuck, baby, I love you, thank you, I love you so mu— fuck—”

Wet heat inside you and a soft breath against the side of your neck—you feel his head drop onto your shoulder before his hand reaches over to your clit. His hips shift and he pulls out, only to move down between your legs and give your pussy a soft, almost kittenish lick. “G’na come f’me, too, angel,” he murmurs around your pussy, and you can see the hints of a smile gracing his face when your legs close around his head and muss up his hair. “Come on, please, please, want you to come—”

He lolls out his tongue and buries his face deeper in between your thighs, and it only takes a few mor licks, sucks, and the steady pump of his fingers before you’re coming, legs trembling around his ears and hands tangled in his messy hair. Your hips buck up into the air but his lips still follow, chasing the taste, and you whine from the overstimulation.

When he pulls away, a string of spit follows. He can’t move far before you’re grabbing him and pulling him into a kiss, smiling against his teeth when he lets out a small oof. He’s on top of you now, hand cupping your cheek. 

“Love you,” Kai murmurs, kissing your forehead. “Love you so much. You okay? You’re making a face.”

You are. “Sorry—one of your plushies—Molang, I’m like, sitting on it—”

“Oh!” You lift your hips and Kai reaches underneath your torso to retrieve his blue penguin Molang pushie. He smiles down at you. “Were you on it the entire time?”

“No, I think it fell while you were eating me out and somehow ended up underneath me.”

Kai grins and nuzzles his face into your neck. “You were arching your back that much? Did it feel that good?”

“I think this concerns the amount of plushies you have, not your stroke game—”

“My pussy eating game, actually.”

You throw another Molang plushie at his face. It’s soft, just like his cheeks when he smiles at you and they get all squishy, just like his lips when you tug him down for another kiss.

[katerinaaqu]

What's your opinion on how Telemachus was handled in Epic (so far) ? I'm curious 😀.

And what is different from his Odyssey portrayal ? Not counting the fanart that infantilizes him, I'm strictly talking about the musical itself.

Hahahaha you guys definitely wanna put me against a wall one of these days! XD But I absolutely LOVE this question! Hahaha okay here goes;

Absolutely I wasn't gonna talk about the fanart and all that is part of the designing process and arguably that is part of every person to do. They could easily choose the depiction more Odyssey-accurate and still use the musical sound so yes you do well to mention it because yes I myself wouldn't touch the design part in this ask

Anyways long story short; I don't like it.

Storywise it is overly-simplified and shows only one portion of his possible emotions; the one that tries to connect with his father. That part is genuine and I see where the portrayal such as the song "Legendary" came from. Arguably Homer himself also touches the subject of glory through one's deeds and I see where the musical came from when Telemachus says what he says but the song was too bbbly, too naive portrayal of Telemachus and in a way completely disregarded the true depth of sadness and depression in Telemachus.

In the Odyssey Telemachus never connected to his father because his father was never there. To the point where he was even doubting whether he was his son or not. He basically says that "everyone calls me that but how can I know? The dude was never there. Possibly never will be here again". His whole energy was the total opposite than Epic.

Epic portrays Telemachus in a manner that reminds me of Disney's Little Mermaid in "Part of your world"; a bubbly teenager who dreams to start his life or to be making a legendary name for himself like his father and in childish naive energy says "bring me all these monsters to fight them!" while in his childish naive nature was also making him afraid or worried to face the bullying of the suitors (the way the suitors were portrayed as if Jorge wanted to make them EVEN MORE evil also had me cringe like Antinous calling Penelope "tramp". Antinous called Penelope more or less "divious" because of her scheme against them but that was all. In here they are competing for her hand while calling her names without reason? Yeah right....). He seemed like the average teenager that needs the adult to get him to realize video games is not the life and that he needs to do something about his future! Does he also seem low-key sad? Yes. But just like Ariel in the Disney movie was pictured as a dreamer that wanted escape from his confided situation through bubbly and childish dreams.

Odyssey Telemachus was both emotionally and psychologically exhausted; his mother was taken down by grief and endless waiting and had confided herself in her chambers, trying her best to avoid the suitors that were at her home for FOUR YEARS, constantly crying at this point. Telemachus also saw his grandfather lose his mind in sorrow and his grandmother melting away by desperation and sadness and dying or potentially killing herself by it. The last thing he wanted was "to be legendary". In fact Telemachus gave me the exact opposite energy than a dreamer. He was very down to earth and his main goal was to get out of this nasty situation, trying to grow as a person to set himself free from this torment. He had so much in his plate that the last thing he wanted was to dream. In fact he gave me the impression of a person with no more the luxury of dreaming. He almost seemed crushed to the point of breaking himself almost like every other member of his family. (He gives me the impression of a person that after spent years of trying and fulflling their dreams now they are forced to work in a work they hate for survival and think that "dreams are for fools. No luxury for them!")

Like I said Menelaus described Telemachus as a spitting image of his father including his eyes, which is something I find the most important. Menelaus compared Telemachus's gaze to Odysseus; a man that fought a war with him! A man exhausted by the evil he saw and caused. Telemachus's profound grief was so intense that his look was equivalent to a man Menelaus fought a war with! He was the opposite of what we see in Epic! In fact we know that Telemachus was also very much silent and tried to keep a low profile so he didn't need to face the humiliation of the men that were literally plundering his wealth and harassing his mother and himself. The last thing he had in his mind would be to "be legendary". He was also plundered by the fact that not only was he doubting that Odysseus was his father per se but also he was in doubt that this Odysseus that everyone named his father would be alive or dead. He didn't know that. He was actually almost certain that Odysseus was dead but that part in the back of his head was not yet leaving him in peace which is why he needed Athena's guidance

Which brings me to the next part; Athena In Epic Athena appears to...give Telemachus the boost to fist-fight the suitors for some reason and mind you he still gets his ass handed at him! It made it seem as Telemachus's only problem was that he didn't have the guts or skills to fight the suitors and Athena gave him a solution! (potentially a message to stand up against bullies for teenagers? Perhaps but still I felt it massively undermined Telemachis's situation in the book) As I have answered to another person around here, Telemachus's problem was that the suitors claimed the law of hospitality and named themselves ODYSSEUS'S guests. Telemachus could not yet take over as king and he had no power to send them away. Plus he was plundered by doubt about his own inheritence. What Athena did was not to make Telemachus a fighter for he already was (we see how well he stands against them at the side of his father in the Odyssey) she came to encourage him to find out on his own.

Arguably the trip of Telemachus was a mirror counterpart of Odysseus's but instead of a trip that makes you lost like Odysseus was lost, it was a trip for self-discovery. Mind you, both the trip of Odysseus and the trip of Telemachus are cognitive trips; both characters learn in them and come in contact with places. Psychologically the trip allows Telemachus to escape this boarderline toxic grief in his home and explore the world. Also find out on his own information about his father. Now, arguably he never really finds out about his father's whereabouts for certain apart from Menelaus's vision but there is something he definitely gets out of his trip that is not talked about enough;

He finds out he REALLY is the son of his father and he gets information about what kind of man he was!

He hears from friends that fought with him how similar he looks to him; not just from his closed and secluded environment but of people outside his circle and his known people that he looks like him and they also give him information about him. No more the random comments the suitors he hated say or his sad mother who could either idealize his father to escape her grief or the loyal slave Euryclea who adored the family naturally like a mother; now it was also friends and known people of Odysseus that speak about him Telemachus is double-checking his information! Thus coming home much more confident on his inheritence and his own destiny and duty

Arguably the Odyssey is as much Telemachus's story as it is Odysseus's. Telemachus was in one way a spectrum of Odysseus; fighting a different type of war; losing himself in a different type of sadness. His story was a story of coming of age not a story of a goddess that teaches him how to stand up against bullies. Telemachus already does that in the Odyssey by calling the council. Arguably he was alays standing against the suitors but his position did not allow him to do something drastic! I think just like many things Epic missed this by a mile; reducing Telemachus's profound grief, sadness and uncertainty to an average teenage escapism story rather than the fact that Telemachus had no luxury or energy for escapism, Athena's advice for self-discovery to the average "raise your fists and fight your bullies" story ignoring the deep cultural details that led Telemachus to that tight spot in the first place and of course it completely abandoned the importance of Telemachus's trip which could be a subject of a movie on its own! (Quite frankly Telemacheia covers more chapters in the Odyssey than Odysseus's own flashback! It covers 5 rhapsodies of the Odyssey while Odysseus's story covers 3-4)

I hope this answers some questions! I will be happy to elaborate more.

[biancadoes1]

I just want to share my thoughts about the dancer and L. If they are genuinely together as she like to portray, we could have seen a single acknowledgement from L aside from the grid likes that seemed to be obligatory in my opinion. But, nothing. Aside from the likes and her seemingly photos that is alluding that they are both in the same location when in fact she was caught red-handed before to be insinuating such. Sorrento, yep. Group trip. GQ? Another group trip. Both times that they are with each other. Spain? Possibly. But I do not think so. We can say that maybe they are, but why do you think L tried his best to show us that he is hinting he's alone in the trip, if A is with him? Privacy? Yes possibly. But why erase the narrative that A is with him? He is really determined in my opinion to be seen that he is alone in Spain.

The thing that really is certain in my opinion in in the past few months is that, L really made himself clear that he is SINGLE before, not until we got the crumbs from both N and L that screams WE ARE TOGETHER SO LISTEN TO US type of sm activities. Not in a relationship with a dancer. And September, we both got the word marriage from N and L, although L seems to be indirect.

Guys, please listen to N and L. They really are trying to tell us something. Maybe they are pulling their hairs now because this fandom likes to give a certain someone a attention that was truly unnecessary.

.

[sillysowa]

Ok I have a request :) could maybe guess who this is but AHDBSH

The fem reader is a villain while Hobie is the “hero”(not rlly but I forgot what it’s called) that’s been tracking down the reader. But, during the day the both live their normal lives, the readers day job being a barista at the local Cafe. Of course during the night her identity is hidden so she isn’t recognized during the day, which leads to the one morning when Hobie goes to the local coffee shop to order a drink and unknowingly ordering it from his masked nemesis.

What’d ya think? <3

I LOVE your brain anon! Sorry for the wait and if it seems rushed!

BEHIND THE MASK

pairing : hobie brown x fem!prowler!reader

genre : fluff, slightly suggestive

word count : 3k

warnings : violence

authors note : reader is the prowler but i have incredibly minimal knowledge on the prowler lol

synopsis : hobie has a date with a cute barista who just so happens to be the prowler

—

“And what exactly do you think you’re doin?”

Spiderpunk’s agonizing voice cuts through the silence of the night and you freeze in your tracks. You knew he’d find you tonight—always chasing after you like a moth to a flame, or a fly to a spiders web.

He drops down from the wall, thrusting his hands into his pockets and clicking his tongue, his loud boots slapping against the ground behind you,

“What’ya got in that bag of yours? Up to something you shouldn’t be?” He questions, coming right up behind you and whispering next to your ear. You turn around, your hands up as you look at him through your mask,

“Bold of you to assume i’ve done anything, I could just be out for a midnight stroll.” You shrug slyly, toying with him. You know just as well as he does that he could have tried to take you down by now, he’s clearly just wanted a little foreplay as usual.

“Oh, is it now? You’ve got this guilty air about you.” He asks, completely prepared for any attack that you might have up your sleeve, “You really want me to believe a dirty little liar like you, hm?” As he provokes you, his gloved hands reach up to your face only to get smacked away, but he only smiles harder—he expected it. A scoff can be heard from under your mask,

“Miss me, Spiderpunk? You seem awfully excited.” You sneer, voice muffled a deeper more menacing tone. His animated mask portrays his every expression, a squinty smirk plastered on his face,

“How’d you know?” He smirks, coming closer. You flex your fingers, claws baring menacingly before you rip a smoke bomb off your belt and slam it down, making Spiderpunk stumble back before you lunge at him through the cloud. His senses go wild, and he web shoots to the wall, swinging around and pulling his guitar out while you’re down. Your momentum landing you on your knees after he dodged, and you can’t react fast enough for his attack. He’s got his guitar above his head before he slams it down on your back,

“Ah!—Fuck me!” You grumble, rolling over and jumping up, shaking your head with your hands in front of you defensively.

“Only if you ask nicely, gorgeous,” He’s got his guitar out on display as if it’s a sword, making you scoff,

“In your dreams.” Your crack your neck and lunge at him, grunting and swinging wherever you can reach from your stance. You’d never admit it, but his height creeped you out and excited you all at once. Never in a million years would you get with a person like Spiderpunk—a loud, obnoxious, wannabe ‘hero’—but the fact that he towered over you like he did made you nervous in the best way possible. You tried to ignore the feelings deep in your stomach and focus on the way that made you feel about your fighting, afraid that he could overpower you if you let your guard down even slightly—which you did. He had used his fucking guitar pick—the small object somehow slicing your arm. You gasped and he hurriedly backed up, nearly tripping over his feet. At first he was dodging your punches well until you threw a right hook in, your knuckles meeting his jaw with as much force as you could muster,

He had no time to react as he stumbled down. You kicked him across the face and pinned his hands down under your shoes. You knew you had to act fast and get the hell away from him,

“Couldn’t have wined and dined me first?” He quips, his wrists pinned beside his head and his legs spread under you. It’s quite a sight—the city’s hero sprawled out under you like this at your mercy. You shake the thoughts out of your head,

“Catch you later, Spiderpunk.” You rasp, reaching to your belt and popping the cap off a homemade bomb. His eyes triple in size as you throw it, your boot shoving his face down before you flee. He scrambles and slings away before the bomb explodes and the walls surrounding it crumble.

He watches from across the street as the damage ensues, cursing to himself when sees the faint glow of your suit as you disappear into the night. You were such a pain in his ass—but couldn’t keep away.

—

—?” You yell out the name of an order, setting a drink and pastry down. You smile at the customer who walks up and thanks you, giving them a quick smile before returning to the register, swapping out with your coworker,

“Thanks again, Y/N.” They sigh. This isn’t typical behavior from your coworker, they’re typically very hard working but they told you a chunk of their apartment complex was blown up last night. Of course, you had to sympathize with them and help make their shift a little easier—it’s the least you could do after being the unknown cause of their distress.

“Yeah don’t worry about it.” You wipe off your uniform and put on a smile for the customers of the small café you work at. It had been an exhausting shift—only 30 minutes in and it already felt like hell. You looked up ready to give your best customer service voice when your words caught in your throat…

The man in front of you was absolutely breath taking. He had these high cheekbones and pretty eyes, full lips with a ring to compliment them, perfectly styled hair and jewelry all over—god his fashion too. He had this punk rock thing going on, and he was absolutely killing it. Even his body language was attractive, the way his hands were on either side of the table, leaning over slightly to reach your level,

“Mornin’.” He starts, his deep voice only spurring on your attraction towards him, “Could I just get a…” He looks up, biting the inside of his cheek before sighing, “Having a hard time making a choice—wide selection you’ve got. What do you recommend?” He asks with a curious expression, bending down close to hear you over the machinery, clanging dishes, and customer chatter.

You’re stunned, not expecting you’d have to think. After a little stuttering, you can finally think,

“W-Well we have this Persian tea. It’s a black tea base with cardamom and rose petals?” You suggest, your face heating up when he smiles because of course he has the lost beautiful smile you’ve ever seen, “It’s my favorite.” You add, voice coming out oddly quiet and now you’re incredibly embarrassed for reasons you can’t name,

“Sounds perfect, gorgeous.” He eccentrically squints his eyes and shakes his head as he speaks, half lidded eyes locking with yours again.

“And the name for your order?” You ask, tapping in the details on the screen before making eye contact with him,

“Hobie.” And of course, there’s something about the way he says his name that has you melting, but you desperately try to ignore it and pull yourself together. He whips out his wallet and hands you a large bill, your fingers slipping against his as you take it into your hand. You ring him up and gather his change, which he adamantly refuses to take,

“Keep it.” The stunning man winks, walking away and waiting in the line of others who have ordered. For a moment, you stand there completely appalled. When you turn to look at your coworker she’s already staring at you,

“…Oh my god?” She mouths, her hand over her mouth, “You better go make his drink and write your number on his cup, girl—move over i’ve got the register.” She laughs in disbelief, just as flustered as you,

“Thank you, thank you.” You hurriedly giggle, feeling guilty almost at her eagerness before moving out of her way and fumbling around, steeping his tea immediately. You were extra meticulous when crafting his order, wanting it to be just perfect. You caught glimpses of the rockstar-like man over the counter a few times, and almost every time he was already looking at you. You had to bite your lip to fight back the smile that tugged at your lips. When you poured his tea in a cup and clicked the cap on, you pulled out your sharpie and wrote his name messily, scribbling your number under it. With a cheeky smile you set the cup down,

“Hobie?” You call out like you have no idea who he is despite holding eye contact with him. He walks over, pulling a hand out of his pockets and wrapping his long fingers around the cup,

“Thank you, doll.” He rasped, scanning you over one last time when suddenly he squints,

“Y’alright? Doesn’t look like just a little scratch.” He asks you with his eyebrows furrowed, pointing low and squinting in concern. You’re just as confused as he is for a moment, looking down with your heart stopping as you realize it’s the cut from when Spiderpunk sliced you with his guitar pick, the memories of last night flooding into your brain and causing a panic in your nerves, your adrenaline pumping in a flash,

“Oh this? I got this from a clumsy accident the other day, it’s really no biggie.” You brush it off, covering the cut with your hand and cursing internally. You want to hide and never show your face again, the worst possible outcomes clouding your thoughts. He doesn’t seem concerned about your response, taking it for the truth,

“You better be more careful then, yeah?” He playfully chastises, turning to leave, “See y’round, pretty.” And with that, he walks out of the café, humming in delight at the flavors in your favorite drink. He’s almost done with his drink when he finally notices your number on the cup, laughing to himself and freezing in his tracks.

—

You got a call that night after your shift—you knew you would. When you picked up the phone and his deep voice was on the other end you just about melted into your bed.

“Hey, Hobie.”

“Hello, lovely—never got your name.” He mutters on the other end, background shuffling and movements loud enough to reach your ears. He sounds like he’s flipping switches and plugging stuff in,

“It’s, Y/N.” You chirp. Hobie feels a smile take over his face as he learns your name, repeating it a couple times,

“Such a pretty name you’ve got.” He coo’s his voice low and sultry. You smile widely, stupidly giddy over this

stranger,

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” He says smugly. On the other side of the phone you can faintly hear what sounds like a guitar, an electric guitar, “How about we go out sometime, yeah? When can I see you?” He asks, his voice charismatic.

You think, caught between wanting to see him tomorrow and wanting to be careful about who sees you that day. Tomorrow you had shady plans, and you didn’t want to get him roped into it, “Hm…it sounds weird but can I see you at nine?” You ask with a questioning tilt in your voice, “I understand it’s late but—“

“No worries, hun, works f’me.” He insists, causing you to sigh in relief.

“Okay great! thank you, Hobie.” You smile, fidgeting with your clothes anxiously. He hums and you feel your heart race,

“See you then, Y/N.”

—

Tonight would be the craziest heist of your life if you could pull it off. Keyword, if.

You didn’t know, but Spiderpunk had been following you the entire night. He had to keep a close watch on you after that stunt you pulled last time. You had somehow managed to outsmart him and he couldn’t let it happen again. You were currently in an alleyway, your pace fast and your head down—you honestly couldn’t look more suspicious as you walked towards the bank.

“Don’t think so.” He mutters to himself, slinging down and following you stealthily. He crept along the walls, keeping a watchful eye on you as you literally sawed open the wall, following close behind.

You on the other hand had a lot of tasks you were juggling all at once—you were texting Hobie telling him you’d see him in 15 minutes, sawing the building open, and watching your back simultaneously.

Spiderpunk, who couldn’t yet see you well enough to notice you were texting with your other hand, jumped when his phone vibrated with a notification. He pulled it out and quickly checked it, his heart racing at your name lighting up his screen. He just had to take you down to make it to the date on time—easy peasy.

He crept into the bank, catching a glimpse of you breaking into all their stashes and safes, literally stuffing cash into your bag. You look rushed and panicked, not as tactful as your usual self. He find it entertaining and comical decided to mess with you a little,

“In a hurry?” That low and taunting voice makes your skin crawl, whipping your head around, fingering tightening on your bag. Of course he was here, how could you have missed him? Or more importantly, how could he have not missed you? You knew it was a shot in the dark to just assume he wouldn’t find you this night as he always does—you bet he has some kind of affinity for you. A gravely sigh tumbles from your lips, shaking your head and slinging your bag over your shoulder,

“Look—I can’t fool around with you tonight, let’s skip the small talk.” You grunt, clicking your claws into readied fists, staring him down with precision. Spiderpunk liked fighting you when you were playful, but there was something about fighting you when you were annoyed that really excited him,

“What’s got your panties in a twist?” He teases with a low whistle, webbing towards you feet first. You dodge, grunting and lunging at him, both of you rolling until he’s got you under him, attempting to restrain you. You bring your knees up and kick him off of you, jumping up and circling him. He stares you down for a while, that messy painted mask squinty-eyed,

“Come on.” He sneers, beckoning you with his two, very long, middle fingers suggestively. You laugh at this, lunging at him in a series of calculated movements. He fights you off, throwing out quips and sly remarks to fire you up. You swing at him, your claws out, and he struggles against you when you attempt to stab him with them, pushing your wrists against the wall and grunting through the struggle. You’re shaking under him, hissing and squirming in an attempt to free yourself when he webs you to the wall.

“Fuck! God—“ You groan, frustrated and beyond pissed at what this means for you. Hobie’s face flashes in your brain and you cringe at the idea of standing him up like this,

“Please! Please just let me go this time…” You grunt, the webs holding you down like a barricade as he pulls your bag off you, spilling the contents out onto the floor—your phone, your outfit for the date, and all the money scattered across the cool tile,

“What’s with the dress? Got a date tonight?” He hums, picking up the fancy garment before dropping it back in place when you just scoff. Hobie reaches down to gather up the money when he notices the time on your phone, straightening up and pulling his own phone out,

“Shit—it’s that time already?” You watch as he hurriedly texts someone, his thumbs dancing across the screen. You slump against the wall as much as you can being restrained, sighing in pure frustration when your phone buzzes.

You both freeze—you because you’re deathly embarrassed and Hobie because his heart drops into his stomach. Directly after he sent a text to Y/N, your phone lit up. He looks at you, trying to decode your body language as he bends down and picks up your phone, confirming his suspicions.

Sure enough, there’s a text from him, or ‘Hobie,’ right in the middle of your lock screen. He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger, laughing to himself with his shoulders shaking in tandem.

You on the other hand are completely and utterly unaware of what just happened, still stuck to the wall and helplessly watching the scene in front of you. He stuff his and your phone into his pocket, muttering something to himself that you can’t quite make out before he walks towards you, the soles of his boots echoing in the dark empty bank,

“What the—why did you take my phone? What are you-“ Your rambles are cut short as his gloved hands come up to your mask, removing it despite your protests. After tossing it to the ground, he simply takes it all in. It’s you, his date—the prowler. You’re obviously still completely oblivious to what’s transpired and therefore furious,

“Answer me asshole! What good is seeing my face gonna do for you?“ And now, it’s your turn to be completely speechless as Spiderpunk pulls his mask off. Hobie’s dark hair springs out, his pretty face glowing in the low light and a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as he watches you swallow the same truth as he did,

“Cant say I was expecting this.” He whispers coyly, eating up the way you instantly grow quiet and flustered, this extra layer added onto your relationship clearly only exciting you more. You gulp nervously, your heart racing at this sudden turn of events,

“Me neither…” You whisper, simply unable to be mad or upset when now you’ve got your cake and you’re about to eat it too.

Hobie doesn’t do much thinking when he unties you and kicks the money aside, or when he tells you to put on that pretty dress and let him take you out properly. You’re completely stunned, staring down at your prowler claws before stuffing them in your bag and walking out the hole you cut into the bank, Hobie waiting against the wall for you,

“So…about all of this?” You awkwardly chuckle, motioning to the bank, the money, and the mess. Hobie being the anarchist he is simply shrugs, extending his palm for yours and clasping it when you place it against his, slinging away into the night to finally go on that date,

“Not my problem.”

—

@ohxx @luxxtuxx @fatenpara @hobesbf @defnot-bri

[strzlun]

PARADISE

// lee heeseung //

pairing: best friend!heeseung x femreader

word count- 5.1k

genre/cw- fluff, angst, profanity (one time), unrequited feelings, fake dating, jealousy, confessions, kissing, heeseung falls in love harder each second, realization, heeseung helps reader, heated arguments, slight violence (heeseung punches someone)

summary- Heeseung wants to dive into the paradise of his best friend

________________________________________________________

Heeseung was simple person, he loved his family, he loved his friends, he loved playing basketball, he loved singing. And he also loved you, his best friend.

Now, Heeseung doesn’t know when he fell for you, but it didn’t even matter. When he realized, he knew it was too late for him, he was in your world and he was more than grateful enough to live in it.

But there was a downfall for his love for you. You didn’t feel the same way towards him, instead you liked one of his close friend.

You tried endlessly to get to know his friend and possibly have a relationship with him, but he was someone who simply didn’t like commitment. And his friend wasn’t going to change that for you even if he was interested in you.

Heeseung on the other hand wanted to curse his friend out, how could he not fall madly in love with you? He called his friend stupid endless of times for not taking your chances in trying to get to know him.

His friend didn’t realize how much Heeseung would kill to be in his position. To have you portray for your feelings for him, it sounded nothing but a paradise to him.

Heeseung wouldn’t hesitate to give you the world if you asked for it, that’s just how much he loved you. But he was forced to heard your rambles on how you talked to his friend today, trying to get to know him more.

Every time you talked to Heeseung about his friend, he swore he felt a piece of him vanish into the universe. Oh how much he would love to be the one you had feelings for instead.

“Heeseung, what do you think I should do?” You asked your best friend as you laid on his couch face down

You had just talked to his friend and he said he would give you a chance but he needed a little more of a push to pursue you. He didn’t know how much it struck your heart with pain as you heard his words, but you only smiled and nodded your head.

You don’t know why you put yourself through this path and pain but you just liked Heeseung’s friend so much that you couldn’t just simply let go of him.

Heeseung wanted to tell you to drop his friend and go to him, that he would treat you better, he would give you endless love. Instead, Heeseung only patted your back that faced him in comfort.

He didn’t know what he could do that could help you realize that his friend is the most stupidest person out there for not realizing you’re everything his friend could ever want.

He could hear your groan against his couch as he sat next to you. He tried to hold in his laughter, he knew this wasn’t the time but he couldn’t help but admire you. When you had your mind set on something, it wasn’t easy for you to let go of it.

There was a comfortable silence that casted over the two of you. You and Heeseung had been best friend for years, you remember when you first met him, you swore he was the perfect boy next door. It was bound that the two of you would be closer as the years pasted by, and you were glad you had him as your best friend.

You didn’t like Heeseung having to see you like this but you wouldn’t anyone else to see how you were truly feeling if it wasn’t him, you best friend.

He hated always having to be the one comforting you after you had a conversation with his best friend. It wasn’t because he actually despised helping you, but rather he hated it because you shouldn’t be feeling that in the first place.

You deserved to be treated with such love, to never have any doubts in your mind and live happily ever after with someone who loves you dearly, like him.

That was when an idea came to his mind, was it the best idea? Definitely not, but it was an idea that could help him dip his existence into a paradise with you if you allowed it.

“Let’s date” You lifted your head to face him wondering if you had heard him right, when you weren’t saying anything, he realized he may have been too straight forward

“I mean let’s fake date, maybe seeing you lose interest in him will cause him to finally chase after you” When Heeseung explained, you were quick to sit upright and look at him with a sparkle in your eyes, oh how he adored seeing your eyes sparkle

In your mind, his idea was the best idea you’ve ever heard of. You thought his reasoning was perfect too, if his friend realized you were losing interested that would be the perfect push he needed to pursue you. Yet, when it finally registered in your mind that Heeseung would be the one you would have to fake date.

“But are you okay with helping me? I don’t want it to seem like I’m just using you. You know what no, we aren’t doing it. I’m not using you like that Heeseung” Your soon agreement switched to a disagreement when you realized you would have to use Heeseung in order to do this

He was your best friend, he wasn’t someone that you would just use to help you with your desires. You would figure out another way to have Heeseung’s close friend look your way.

Heeseung on the hand wanted you to use him for this, he was allowing you to use how ever much you wanted. He wanted you to know that he was all yours for you use.

“Listen it’s okay, you’re my best friend. I’ll be more than happy to help you” Physical touch was normal between the two of you so he grabbed your hands into his as he gave the smile you found comfort in

You found yourself smiling at him and you felt your heart swoon. You just assumed that it must have been because you were just so thankful he was willing enough to help you.

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to feel obligated, like you have to help me just because I’m your best friend”

“Just let me help you and in no time, you’ll be in a loving, happy relationship” The way your smile plastered onto your face sent him to the moon and back, he gave you a bright smile

Suddenly, you tackled him onto the couch for a hug and he wasn’t expect it, you laughed once you realized this and got off of him, reaching your hand out to help him sit up again.

There was glint in Heeseung’s eyes that you didn’t know what it meant but he only smiled and reached for your hand. Once your hand held onto each other, he was quick to pull you back down, you squealed as he gave a hug.

Out of context, the situation may have seen romantic but to you, it was simply two best friends being appreciative of each other. Heeseung on the other hand felt like his heart was about to pound of his chest with how fast it was beating.

Heeseung knew this risky for him, he doesn’t think it’d be possible to fall more in love with you. But somehow you always showed him the impossible, so it wasn’t ruled out that he’d love you even more than he does now.

Oh what has Heeseung set himself up for?

Now you and Heeseung set up rules for this fake relationship. One, which was self explanatory, you two obviously have to keep that this was a fake relationship a secret. Two, whenever Heeseung’s friend is around, the two of you have to act like you’re madly in love with each other. Three which was the last rule, respect the boundaries of the other.

You trusted Heeseung and Heeseung trusted you, the two of you knew each other more than you knew yourselves. That was a pro about having a fake relationship with your best friend, he already knew everything about you.

It’s been a month since you and Heeseung started your fake relationship. You slowly distant yourself from his friend little by little, as you realized you have to make it believable that you were losing interest in him and giving up on him.

His friend took a notice to your sudden distance but didn’t dwell on it that much. He just assumed you’d come back.

You tried to make it known not only to his friend but everyone else that you were spending time with Heeseung over the past month. You wanted to make the impossible of being together twenty four seven every single day seem possible between the two of you.

Today was no different, you were over at his house but excused yourself because you were getting a call, leaving Heeseung in the living room to wait for your return. Now if he was asked how he was feeling the past month, he would tell you that he felt the luckiest person ever.

Even though the two of acted the same way you always acted, you could notice the small changes with the agreement of the fake relationship. Heeseung was much gentle with you, he was always by your side no matter what whether you needed him or not. Heeseung would hold your hands when you complained about having cold hands. You were grateful for him both as a best friend and as your fake boyfriend.

Heeseung knew he changed how he acted towards you, he hated how the lines were blurring between reality and the fake relationship. He always allowed you to win games so that you could cheer in celebration at winning against him. He loved the way you would admire him whenever brought you when he played basketball or whenever you heard him singing.

Heeseung was more than pleased to be able to experience the side of your world he never got to see, he was able to get a snippet of the paradise of you. With that snippet, he couldn’t get enough of it.

With him knowing that he was yours even if it was fake was able to make his heart swell with happiness. The little things were able to make him fall even more in love with you.

As he was zoning out with a happy smile on his face at the mere thought of you, he didn’t realize his friend, your crush walking into his place confused to notice the front door was unlocked. Heeseung leaves his front door unlocked, when he knows you’re coming over.

He thought it was best that you were able to walk into his place like you owned it, which in his heart you did just like everything else that was associated with him.

Heeseung was brought back when he felt a shake at his shoulder, he worriedly looked thinking it was you and when he was greeted with his friend he was even more shocked.

“You alright Heeseung? Why was your front door unlocked?” He wasn’t able to respond to his friend because you soon walked into the living room where the two were at

“You won’t believe what that call was about-“ You giggled but stopped in your tracks when you saw Heeseung and his friend in the living room

His friend looked back and forth between the two of you, surprised. You hadn’t responded to his message since three days ago and here you were hanging out in Heeseung’s place. His friend knew you and Heeseung have been best friends ever since you two were children but he thought that there would be a barrier as you two grew older.

“Oh hey” You nervously muttered, you still felt the butterflies in your stomach when you saw him and you cursed at yourself for still being nervous

“Hi? What are you doing here?” Before you could even respond, Heeseung was quick to stand up and walk over to you, after all this was the reason the fake relationship was establish in the first place

“She can’t spend time with me?” Heeseung raised an eyebrow, he liked instigating especially when it came to his friend, he knew how his friend was feeling seeing you at his place

“I’m not saying she can’t, but I’m just wondering” His friend’s tone was cold and you swore you could feel it in your bones

“Well I am currently in the process of becoming her boyfriend so I think it’s normal that she hangs out with me” He could feel your gaze whip over to him at his words but he only smirked when he saw his friend step back in shock

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” His friend looked at you and you nervously gulped, you could hear the tension building between the two of you

“Whatever you say to her, you can say to me” Heeseung shrugged his shoulders, he knew his words were adding fuel to the fire

“No it’s fine, we can talk” You stepped in, throwing a glare at Heeseung before walking outside

Heeseung’s friend had an emotion in his eyes as he looked at Heeseung before following you outside, closing the door behind him.

Heeseung knew his friend was beyond jealous and mad, and he felt satisfied that he was able to get that reaction out of him. He knew his friend wasn’t liking the fact that you were with Heeseung instead of him. Heeseung plopped himself back onto his couch waiting for you to come back.

After what felt like hours, his front door opened and walked in you. Heeseung turned his head toward you and immediately tripped over himself getting off the couch as he rushed over to you.

You were crying, your eyes were bloodshot red as tears stained your face. Heeseung cupped you face into his hands and worriedly looked at you, you were trying to put on a smile for him but it shivered every time your lips dared to go upwards.

“What did he do?” Heeseung’s voice was soft with you but there was a hint of anger in it, you shook your head and wiped your eyes

“It’s fine, I’m fine” Your voice was hoarse and soft, in all his time that he’s known you, never have you sounded like this Heeseung could feel anger rise in him every second he sees the tears brimming in your eyes again

“I think I should go home” You softly brushed Heeseung’s hands off your face, as you walked pasted him sniffling to collect your belongings

He stared at you as you have your back towards him. He had to restrain every inch of his body from walking out that door and punching his friend for making you cry.

When you walked past Heeseung to go out his front door, he softly caught your wrist with his hand. You didn’t even dare to look at him, you were on the brink of sobbing and you wanted to get home as quickly as you can to cry your eyes out.

“Stay the night” His voice was much softer, he never would show his anger in front of you, all he wanted to do was comfort you

“I don’t think it’s the best idea”

“I’m asking as your best friend, not as your fake boyfriend” The reminder that Heeseung was only your fake boyfriend wanted to make you cry even more and you didn’t know why

“You know I would never judge you for anything”

“So please stay the night” After a moment of contemplating you sighed, you gave into his words, you dropped your belongings onto the floor as the wave of emotions finally got you

You crouched and cried into your hands, you tried to muffle your sobs but Heeseung could still hear them as clear as day. He crouched down with you and brought you into his arms, you didn’t bear to wrap your arms around him as you cried into him.

As he softly rubbed your back, he whispered sweet nothing into your ears, wanting to calm you down.

You were embarrassed crying in front of Heeseung like this especially because of his friend, but he didn’t care. He promised to always be there for you and that’s what he was going to do, doesn’t matter time or place or who it was because of.

You sat up against Heeseung’s bed headboard as Heeseung sat in the far corner of his bed, you both stayed in silence. That’s how it’s been like ever since you stopped crying, you felt bad pouring your heart out to Heeseung but he told you that it more than okay.

“You feeling better?” You nodded your head, the silence once again filled the room

“You should head to bed, I can imagine you’re exhausted” You smiled warmly at his concerned words, you were getting off his bed when he stopped you

“Where are you going?”

“To sleep on the couch?” Heeseung looked at you as if you were crazy for even thinking about sleeping on the couch

“No, I’m taking the couch, you’re sleeping on the bed” You stared at Heeseung before scoffing, you both were stubborn so neither of you were going down without a fight

“No, Heeseung you’re taking the bed and I’m taking the couch” You continued to get off his bed but you gasped when you were pulled back and suddenly pinned down onto his bed

Heeseung hovered above you as you two were effortlessly close to each other, you could feel your heart start to pound against your chest almost hearing it in ear by how loud it was.

Heeseung stared into eyes and there something in his eyes that you couldn’t recognized. You both stayed there for what felt like decades until he moved away from you, without saying a word and walked out his room. You were stunned at what happened between the two of you, but soon regained your composure and went out his room to get him back.

When you went to his living room, you already saw all the lights out as he laid on the couch, his back facing you. He didn’t have any pillow or blanket so he uncomfortably shuffle around trying to find warmth and comfortability.

You were upset that he wouldn’t allow you to the take the couch but you softly walked away and back into his room to grab a blanket and a pillow for him.

You could hear his at ease breathing and realized he had fallen asleep already. You giggled softly, he must have been the exhausted one. You gently raised his head to slip the pillow underneath him as you draped the blanket over him to make sure he was warm.

You always wanted to take care of Heeseung, the same way he always takes care of you. He held such a special place in your heart that no one could ever replace, that’s just how much he meant to you.

When you woke up, your eyes were certainly sore from all the crying. You tried to adjust your eyes to the sunlight shinning on your face through Heeseung’s curtains. You went to grab your phone to check the time and you gasped seeing it.

It was already 3 pm, you rushed out of Heeseung’s room and you expected to see him on the couch or at least somewhere around but there was no sign of him. When you went to the kitchen that was when you saw a note left by him.

It said that he would be stepping out and that he didn’t want to wake you up, seeming that you were too exhausted and you needed all the sleep you could get. You called his phone but it was sent to voicemail after multiple rings, you sighed wondering where he could’ve gone.

Now Heeseung wasn’t going to get involve but he couldn’t sleep last night. When you came to put a pillow under his head and drape the blanket over him, he knew that he couldn’t let his friend get away for making you crying so much.

So now here he was banging on his friend’s door, anticipating for him to open it. When his friend grumbled while opening the door, he stopped when he saw Heeseung. He expected Heeseung to come but didn’t think he would come just the day after.

Before his friend could even greet him, Heeseung was quick to grab his collar and push him inside the house before closing the door with his foot.

“What the fuck did you say to her yesterday?” The pent up anger Heeseung had yesterday was finally be able to be released to the person that caused it

His friend shoved Heeseung’s hand from his collar, he wasn’t liking the fact Heeseung was getting angry at him on you behalf.

“I didn’t say anything wrong to her” His friend straighten out his wrinkled shirt but Heeseung was quick to connect his first on his collar again

“You got some nerve you know that?”

“Just why are you so pissed and involved with what happened between us?”

“Because she’s my best friend” His friend scoffed, tilting his head to the side hearing Heeseung’s words

“Thought she was your girlfriend” Heeseung shoved his friend away from him

“She’s my best friend first”

“Aw Heeseung getting all sentimental for her? Think about it, we shouldn’t let her get in between us and ruin our friendship” Heeseung was seething with anger, it should be the other way around, his friend shouldn’t be the one getting between you and Heeseung

“You’re the one who shouldn’t get in between us. You really think I was going to side with you after you made her cry for hours on end? You must not know me well enough then because I would choose her over you any day” His friend was angry to hear this and shoved Heeseung

“You’re really going to her ruin what we have?”

“If it means getting rid of you from mine and her’s life, I’ll be more than happy to do so” His friend scoffed loudly and poked his cheek with his tongue

“Why do you even care so much about her? You obviously don’t care for her like a best friend, you act like you care for her like a boyfriend instead”

“Tell me Heeseung, are you perhaps in love with her?” The sudden question was enough for Heeseung to freeze, he didn’t expect from his friend to ask the question about whether he loves you or not

He knows he does, he drowns himself of your world, but he never openly expressed his love for you other than to himself.

“It doesn’t matter about me, what matters is what the hell you said to her yesterday to make her cry” Before argument could even escalate any higher, Heeseung’s phone started to ring and he knew exactly who it was, he had a special ringtone for whenever you were contacting him

Heeseung angrily sighed before letting go of his friend’s collar. His ringtone for you in his ear was more than enough to snap out of his anger, you must’ve been wondering where he was.

His friend watched as Heeseung was making his way out the door, leaving the argument like that.

“Guess she’s calling for her knight in shinning armor” That was the last thing his friend was able to say before Heeseung threw a hard punch to his face

His friend stumbled back at the impact and cupped his face with his hand.

“What the hell?” His friend groaned and Heeseung only smugly smiled

“That’s for making her cry, don’t make me punch you on my behalf” And without Heeseung left his friend’s place to go back to you, who must be waiting for him to come back

Now when Heeseung arrived back, he didn’t genuinely expect you to waiting for him. When you heard the front door open, you were quick to stand in front of Heeseung. He gave you a smile but it soon fell when he saw your expression.

“You punched him?” Was the first word that left your mouth and Heeseung grimaced hearing the tone you used, it was disappointing

But he couldn’t form any sentence to defend himself, he wasn’t going to lie to you. You waited for an answer to confirm the message you received from him friend. He texted you saying how Heeseung was over and had just punched him.

“He deserved it” You scoffed and shook your head at his word

“I know he does but doesn’t mean you can go and punch him without knowing what can happened next” You weren’t mad at Heeseung for punching him, rather you were grateful for that he did what you want to do, but you were mad that he could’ve gotten hurt in the process

“You should’ve heard the nonsense he was spewing, he had it coming for him” Heeseung’s voice was getting louder, it was something he never did but he was growing frustrated with the whole situation

After everything his friend did to you, you were still defending him.

“No but that doesn’t mean you have to punch him” You matched the loudness of voice, you could already predict the inevitable argument rising

“Why are you protecting him after everything?” He wanted to heard your reasoning, he wanted to know why your reaction was like this

You groaned loudly, Heeseung didn’t realize the real reasoning behind this.

“I’m not protecting him, I’m protecting you. What if you got hurt instead? How do you think I would’ve felt knowing you got hurt by him?”

“I would’ve punched him himself for hurting you” You didn’t realizing what your words were leading up to, they were leading to an unexpected confession of your new found feelings for your best friend

Heesueng remained frozen at your words, he didn’t know whether to interpret them the way he wanted to or the way he thought you meant it as.

“And that’s what I did for you. I punched him for hurting you”

“But what if you got hurt Heeseung because of me? I can’t let that happen, I care too much about you to see you get hurt” You weren’t realizing the words that were leaving your mouth, the argument was escalating

“What about me? Do you think it didn’t completely break me to see you crying so badly over him? I’m telling you I felt my heart shatter with every tear and sniffle you let out”

“I don’t care if I got hurt by him, if it was for you. I’ll let myself get hurt for you” Heeseung knew where this was leading as well, but he couldn’t hold back anymore, this may have not been the circumstances he wanted it to be but it was now never

“Why would you allow that Heeseung? I don’t even want you to get hurt especially for me”

“Because I love you too much to see you hurt by him!“

He finally said it. He finally confessed the pent up emotions he’s being dying to tell you but was always so afraid to tell you in fear of ruining everything you both built together.

“I can’t hold this back anymore. I’m so sorry but I love you to damn much to see you get hurt by him, if I had to, I would punch him again if it meant you were happy”

“I always want you to be happy and be loved by someone who sees how amazing you are, and he was so damn stupid for not realizing the girl of his dreams was right in front of him”

“He’s so stupid for not accepting you into his heart because he didn’t want commitment”

“Even if I was scared of commitment, I would still love you as much as I love you you now. I wouldn’t hesitate to except you into my heart”

“I wanted to be his position. I always wanted to know what it was like to be so loved by you” Before Heeseung could finish his sentence he felt your lips crash onto his, he couldn’t process it at first

You were kissing him. This wasn’t a dream, but rather reality, you were actually kissing him. When he realized this was reality, he was quick to place his hand on the nape of your neck to bring you closer to him.

The way your lips fit each other made it seem like they were made only for each other. The kiss was a desperate one, you tried to put every emotion he made you feel into the kiss and Heeseung want to prove everything he said was true to you.

Heeseung always hoped to lose himself in your paradise, now he was finding himself experienced what he always hoped for.

He was finally losing himself in the paradise of you.

When you and Heeseung broke from the kiss, you both heavily panted trying to catch your breaths. You looked at each other and suddenly broke out into a feverish smile.

“In case it wasn’t obvious, I love you too Heeseung” He was quick to place another kiss onto your lips and you giggled against it

He pulled away once again and held you into a hug, the tension that was built up between the two of you soon faded away. You hugged him back and you hoped that this means you could look past what the fake relationship had brought and possible create a new one with him.

“I don’t think I want you to be my fake boyfriend anymore, I want you to be my real one” Your voice was warm as you spoke against the hugged, you could feel his smile growing on his face as he nodded his head

He pulled away from the hug and lovingly looked into your eyes. He saw the love that pooled in your eyes, and he was happy he was on the receiving end of it.

You didn’t expect that you would ever look at anyone’s way other than Heeseung’s friend but Heeseung changed that. He made you realize that there was such thing as pure love and you could have it with him.

You were happy that you accepted Heeseung to be your fake boyfriend because now he could finally be your real boyfriend.

Heeseung never knew this day would come, he thought he was stuck to admire you from afar. But now he was finally getting the honors to be your boyfriend, he wouldn’t want it to be any other way.

“Will you allow me to get lost in your paradise?”