#before you could be anybody you wanted to be. now? now your options are real fuckin limited. “old vampire’’ Usually = white in most cases.

[wickedghxst]

i’m still pissed abt vtmb2 btw. how do you go from complete player freedom in character customization to limiting creativity by locking your character to an already established backstory & minimum of 300 yrs of history. it’s insulting.

[baobaojng]

Rouge (Kim Mingyu)

(mafia & ??? mingyu) x (afab! jazz club singer & ??? reader)

themes: angst, fluff?, smut (minors dni)

summary: things only get complicated when the singer at the club who's running away from her past catches the eye of a mafia member who has more to hide than he lets on.

warnings and notes: mentions of violence, drugs, drinking and smoking, reader is a little bit of a brat lol, pet names (baby, songbird) oral sex (m and f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (please wrap it up irl, this is fiction so we can go crazy in writing haha), mingyu is huuuuuge, a little but of a size kink, creampie, i got a little carried away honestly — sex montage and all lol… there’s a sort of rewarding love making scene so maybe that can make up for it… I’m so sorry…

a/n: i do not permit the use of this fic for anything else. this work is mine and mine alone. these premises and characters are entirely fictional and do not intend to paint anyone in a bad light.

©2025

wordcount: 16,893

author's masterlist

It’s his fifth Saturday in the club.

You know this because it’s the fifth time you’d seen him from where you stood on stage. On the same table, with the same drink of straight whiskey from a frozen glass, with the same set of men you were familiar with already.

But he was new. 

New enough to pique at your interest.

You had been singing for the Rogue club for about a year now almost, a well manicured spectacle to keep the rather intimidating clientele entertained. A friend of a friend referred you as a new entertainment for the club; thinking you would be open to accepting because they knew you were running away from something, and the Rogue was well secure enough for you to go into hiding.

The initial contract was two months, you knew the risks of staying in one place for too long. But as you slowly learned that the Rogue was no ordinary nightclub, it dragged on for as long as it did now. It seemed your departure was not entirely clearly written in the future. It seemed a better option to settle. To stay.

Being a spectacle at the Rogue meant you were part of an ecosystem that offered you protection— as your coworkers at the club would like to tell you. This place was neutral territory, though plenty mobsters and gangsters of different circles patronized the joint - there were absolutely no scuffles, no fights, just quiet drinking, smoking, and minding each other’s business when the shows were on and for as long as they were in the club’s premises.

That implied that since you were the jazz singer at the Rogue, it was out of anybody’s best interest to pry. No one knew your real name, no one would bother to look for you when the sun rose when you were not in your fancy glitters and furs. You would hide in obscure anonymity, only to be known on stage as such. Although some did attempt to act on their interests, you had always so kindly let them down before anything could happen and be unearthed.

New faces came and went, some faces too familiar, plenty men in their tailored coats and hats. All of them just faces and ears that looked and listened, none that caused you any particular trouble. Though they were a topic of conversation among your workers, consistently feeding your own ears with the propriety and the reputation of all your old and new patrons. It was simply enough to be familiar, but there needed to be a clear distance if you wanted to stay longer— if you wanted to be safe longer. 

The man that has been here for five Saturdays straight though, it seemed he was far different. His suit jacket always hanging behind his chair, making him stand out in a crowd of men who would rather sweat in their suits - while he seemed illuminated white his white button up shirt exposed. Or whatever undershirt he decided to wear.

He had a long gold embellished cane that leaned lazily on his table, matching the large golden ring he wore on his pinky finger. An accessory that shone under the light that made you squint only just a little when he held his whiskey glass so close to his face. 

Another thing about him was that man was tall, his frame making it absolutely obvious even if you had only seen him from tables away. His neck craning to entertain whispered conversation from the company he frequented. Company that you did know well from stories, and because they were rather regularly courteous leaving you tips after your sets. 

But the thing that intrigued you was how gorgeous this man was. Something about how everything in his features perfectly framed this image of attraction, and you knew by the way his eyebrow raised in acknowledgement when any other female stole so much of a glance that he knew he was every single thing of appealing. 

Maybe that’s why you had to be careful when you felt yourself looking at him for too long.

With one of your hands perched on your hip, and another daintily wrapped around the ribbon microphone, you wait for the band’s music to wistfully fade out with the final notes of your voice.

Your set for the night was finally done, and while this typically made you sad, it felt like quite a relief these past five weeks.

With any other attractive man watching you on stage before, it felt like a gift to be the performer on stage catching their attention. But this tall, beautiful man’s face just looking up at you from the crowd made you uncomfortable. Even as your eyes met from far away, the feeling in your stomach that pinched at your sides was not a good sign.

You were an artist, sure. Did it mean you exaggerated each feeling that ran through your mind? Absolutely. You could never ever mistake the feeling of gravitating toward someone, and you knew that not knowing more about this man was the safest choice. 

There was a certainty in you that just knew you’d be absolutely in trouble if you tried getting closer and if you tried so much so as to get to know more.

“Thank you very much, you’ve all been such darlings tonight.” You finally say in your most sultry voice, claps echo from across the room. 

From behind the mist of tobacco smoke, you see that he is the only one not applauding. A cigar on his lips as he puffed out enough smoke, it almost felt like cheating how it exaggerated his handsome features. His long curly hair just still and lying perfectly on his head, much like the stone cold look on his face.

Trying to gracefully exit, you make your way down the stage toward the table at the side dedicated to the jazz band’s ensemble.

Jennie, a waitress at the Rouge that you were friends with, heads straight to your table with a drink in her hands. 

Straight whiskey in a frozen glass, the frosted appearance unmistakable - and the smokey scent almost immediately recognizable. 

“It’s from Mr. Kim,” She points to the table where the tall stranger sat, but all the men at his table were all caught up in conversation, “you have a new fan, huh?” 

You roll your eyes. “Well it’s the least he could do, he couldn’t even be bothered to put his hands together to clap.” You say.

“He’s just not the type to do that.” Jennie says, and you quirk a brow - now knowing that she knew something of this man. 

“How do you know that?”

She sighs, “just be careful, okay?” Jennie walks off now.

Your eyes look around to follow your friend who now disappeared among all the tables, but instead you find yourself making eye contact with this… Mr. Kim, who now had a name, albeit the only one you knew was a last one.

He raises his own glass, signaling for you to do so with the glass of whiskey he just bought you. It’s only common courtesy for you to raise your own glass, offering a smile as a thank you with your eyes glued in eye contact with his. How you dreaded how this made you melt, but you could not let any sign of weakness show.

The two of you slowly sipping whiskey, not going unnoticed by the other sets of eyes from his table.

This was not you being careful.

“What is all this?” You ask Minnie, who was in charge of prettying everyone up at the club. She ran the large dressing room at the back, and she’d probably be the person to know where the huge flower arrangement sitting on your designated vanity came from.

“Mr. Kim sent it over, Vernon delivered it when we were hauling in the new dresses for the season. Summer’s getting hot.” She responds, not seeming at all concerned about the gift sent to you, only rambling on about stressing about an entirely new wardrobe.

At this point, she was so used to men sending you chocolates, flowers, stuffed bears, and strange objects of affection. This was just another pre-Saturday night occurrence.

To you this was not anything regular, wondering what this Mr. Kim wanted in return of your affections— wondering if this was the same Mr. Kim you had been dreading yet looking forward to seeing again. You now did know that Vernon delivered these to the club, and that same Mr. Kim surrounded himself constantly with the guys from SVT. 

‘Songbird. Share a drink again with me tonight, but I prefer you being in the same table as me. - M.’ 

A note placed atop the elaborate bouquet read, confirming the identity of this Mr. Kim.

That night when you sing on stage, your eyes try to wander around, looking for the man who bought you a drink and sent you flowers - but he did not take the same seat at the same table. No man taking off his suit jacket and smoking his cigars, no sight of him at all.

It shouldn’t surprise you that men of this line of work were not men of their words; coming and going was a part of the business, and relationships were often their flaw.

“Thank you very much, you’ve all been such darlings tonight.” It’s the same spiel you had, waiting for the applause to die down and the stage light to dim before you make your way to your table once again.

There’s a vague ghost of where the stage light burned through your cornea, your vision still a little bit of an obstructed mess - seeing the circle of light each time you blinked.

So you resorted to keeping your head low in hopes that the low light would help your vision go back to normal. Only a few minutes of this and you knew it would cure this temporary issue.

Around the ground where you focus your attention, you see the outline of a gold plated cane. You wonder if you’re imagining Mr. Kim’s cane, since you felt a deep disappointment at the loss of his presence for the night - especially because he did ask you to share a drink. More so, it did make you expect him.

“Are you feeling well songbird?” A hand is placed on your shoulders, the sensation warm, but somehow the confirmation that he was there made the hairs on the back of your neck stand.

“I am, thank you.” You place a hand on your chest, and your vision has in fact cleared - and you’re trying to act as though you’re well confident enough to face this man.

Except you felt nervous, maybe a little scared.

“Did you get your flowers?” He asks, cooly pulling out the chair from across you.

“Yes I did, they’re beautiful. Thank you.” You look up to see him clearly now, expecting to be less wooed by how he appeared, but he looked so much better up close than he did from tables away when you were on stage. 

It was only really unfair that someone was crafted so gorgeously.

“I bet you get flowers all the time, songbird.” He says with a grin on his face, “has anyone been so impressive for you to accept sharing a drink or are you this courteous to every man who wants to pin you down all for themselves?” This Mr. Kim asks, commanding a raised hand, and Jennie comes just in time to give him a glass of whiskey and you a martini.

“I suppose I do receive little gifts now and then, I don’t feel the need to lie to you. But I don’t regularly get asked to share a drink, and if I do - I turn them down immediately.” You tell him honestly, and you can tell that he seems pleased.

He smiles, and you notice how his canines frame it.

“Good.” He nods before he takes a sip of his preferred alcohol. There’s a moment of silence that swallows you before he speaks, starting with a click of his tongue. “I hear the way all these dogs talk about you like you’re some piece of meat they want to devour.” He scans around the room and there’s an almost scary glint in his eyes when he does so.

“I don’t mind what they say or what they think,” you smile the sweetest smile you can, “I simply sing for the club and that’s it.” You take the martini glass and start to take a tiny sip.

“I hope you don’t mind I took the liberty of asking which drink you usually got.” He points at the cocktail you had.

Figures. 

“Only if it means you were being attentive when you asked.” 

“I can be more attentive, if you find that what I say or what I think matters to you.” He’s challenging you now, wondering out loud what you meant earlier.

In the world you two are in, the best and safest thing for you to do is simply be passive and let things be the way that they present themself to. But something in the way that the tone in his muscles build through his suit jacket as he waits impatiently for your answer has you so tempted to tease him.

You tilt your head to the side, knowing how your hair would effortlessly follow suit with the movement. 

“What do you mean by that?” 

He knew you knew what he meant— you did, and he can only huff out in almost frustrated laughter.

“I’m interested in you, and I want you to feel the same. Or should I spell that out for you in case you want to know how that checks out?” 

It’s your turn to smile and giggle, and it breaks whatever tension this man had written on his face. He can swear that it’s the most pleasing sound he’s heard.

“You can prove this interest by giving me a name first, you know. It’s so extremely difficult to be sincere.” 

“It’s Mingyu,” He answers almost too eagerly, “I know you’re Y/N.”

You get too lost in his eyes for you to notice how everybody at the club had noticed another man in your table.

It feels like time circles down the drain; Mingyu ordered several rounds more, and the night died down with patrons slowly leaving the club. Only the two of you keeping the momentum of laughter and conversation - getting to know each other but not getting to know too much. 

“It’s getting awfully late.” Jennie interrupts a joke you were laughing at, and it was a clear warning to see that only the two of you were occupying the club now. She was trying to be protective, you knew it in the tone of her voice and the way she fearlessly eyed your companion. 

“Uh… yes… we’ll have to wrap this up then.” You try to straighten the way you sit as you say this, but you know that the gin and the vermouth have probably shot up straight into your brain and somehow your balance is not as poised as it was earlier this evening.

Mingyu goes out of his way to catch you, you feel his large hands graze the exposed skin of your shoulders. 

“I’ll take care of her Jen, I swear it on my life.” Mingyu tells your friend, and if you weren’t so disoriented you would probably ask how they knew each other; the nickname not going unnoticed. 

“You better swear it on your life.” She only says, turning to you now, “please just be safe Y/N.” Then she walks off with a tray of your empty glasses.

“You’re a bit tipsy now aren’t you?” Mingyu asks you, and now you’re hyperaware of the warmth of his palm still pressed up on your skin.

“Maybe.” You smile as you draw out the word and he laughs. 

“You are.” 

“I am not. I’m a little drunk is what I am.” You say, raising one index finger.

“I would be anything but a gentleman if I let you go home in this state alone,” he tries to explain but there’s a playful glint in your eyes from the intoxication and it prompts him to be forward, “can I please take you home tonight, songbird?”

You can only laugh again.

“Nothing funny, just me bringing a girl safely back into her home is all.” He explains and you nod. 

“Just please... let me get my things in the dressing room.”

That’s how you end up alone at first, dizzy as you tried navigating about the familiar space, hoping that you could get to your own vanity— but that was proving to be a difficult feat. The sound reverberates when you accidentally hold on to some clothing rack, the metal bumping into someone else’s vanity. 

This alerts Mingyu who has been patiently waiting just by the doorframe of the dressing room, who swoops in to save you just in time from tripping further into landing somewhere else.

“Martinis should not be your drink, songbird.” He comments, still cautiously placing a hand on your shoulder as you turn into mush. 

“Maybe we shouldn’t have been carried away.” You try to blame him, but you ease up on trying to tease him any further. Your temples felt like any of the veins were just about to explode, and your heart was thumping so hard in the confines of your chest - but you knew that had little to do with the alcohol and more so the proximity of this man.

You’re lucky he knows exactly what the flower arrangement he sent you looks like, as it looked so elegantly out of place in this crowded dressing space. It’s almost a relief when he steadies you onto the vanity you were hovering over, quickly making his way to what he presumed to be your little area. 

“Are these your belongings?” He’s able to pick out the medium black purse that definitely does belong to you. You simply nod to say yes.

Mingyu picks out the beige mink coat that’s splayed across the chair of your vanity, he carefully places it over both your shoulders. The weight of the thing making it stable enough not to fall onto the floor, but he takes his time patting it down and you can feel his breath on you.

You don’t know what drives you to do it, but it takes a little bit of effort to tiptoe enough to get at the level of his height when you place a kiss on his lips. 

Expecting your affections to be reciprocated, it sobers you quickly when you pull away to find that he presses his lips into a line - not at all responsive and not looking the slightest bit impressed by the kiss you had given him.

“Thank you.” You just say, coughing to the side to avoid his gaze as you take your purse from one of his hands, and you make a hasty exit to the door. 

That was embarrassing.

Not much is said on the walk out. He tries to walk beside you, but you maintain a good half arm’s length away from him when he tries to come close. 

“I don’t live far from the Rouge.” You speak up, now you’re completely in control of your motor movements and you’re sure you’ll remember each awkward step the next day. Though, it was quite early into the morning now that the sun could come spilling in from the shadows at any moment. You were familiar with the light breeze of dawn.

The cobblestone street of the neighborhood made each click of your heels reverberate through the other stone buildings. The Rouge was tucked around here somewhere, in the mayhem of alleyways intersecting through one way or another - a perfect place for the kind of people it housed and the people that visited it.

Easy to get in, get lost, and hide— but difficult to get out if you did not know the area well. 

Mingyu lights a cigarette when you reach the end of your street, only a few meters now. Silence wraps around the two of you, the cold an unwelcome addition to the mix. 

It doesn’t feel like he’s watching you, but you know that he’s attentively following your movements. A turn to your right and you reach the cozy apartment complex you resided in.  

The lobby is empty, but the reception desk your doorman is properly lit - and you notice the steam from a coffee cup half full. You should consider it luck that your doorman is not present to see your companion; heaven knows what Mingyu’s reputation was.

“I’ll walk you up.” Mingyu says as you fiddle with your fingers, standing right in front of the elevator doors. You’d hoped he would have left you there, and maybe you could deal with the rejection of the kiss much easier. 

You only nod.

The elevator is empty, and you make it a point to stand in the corner as far away from him as the confined space could allow you. But the smell of cigarette smoke is oh-so present, and even if you lean hard enough on the hand railings you know that you can’t escape him.

You reach the top-most, sixth, floor rushing to walk to your front door. He hovers behind you as you slip your keys in the knob, ignoring his proximity. 

“Y/N.” You can hear him say softly, and you ignore him still. The lock finally clicks, and you’re able to go inside turning on the lights as you do so.

Walking into the small hallway at the entrance of your apartment, you do not expect Mingyu to come inside. He swiftly takes one of your hands to stop you from walking away any further and his other hand locks you in place as he presses you gently agains the wall to face him.

“Please don’t tell me you’re interested if you don’t even want me kissing you.” You squeak, noticing how hard he’s staring at you.

“What’s a gentleman to do when he knows his lady is intoxicated when she kisses him?” He responds, holding a hand palm-facing the wall just above your head. If being cornered was a literal feeling, then he had a great way of making you feel that.

“You’re just saying that.” You reason.

“I don’t want to take advantage of you.” He bites back.

“And what if I want you to?” You challenge him and you can tell he’s holding back by the way he inches closer. 

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, songbird.” He whispers so close to the side of your neck, inhaling sharply. “That’s— see, this will get you in trouble.” He comments.

This gets you genuinely curious. “What will?” 

“This perfume.” He says, head lower and you can feel his breath fan over your collarbones.

“What about my perfume?” You try moving closer to him.

“You smell like bergamot and basil.” He mumbles, “and it’s been a pain in the ass smelling how sweet you are all evening.” 

“Is that why you didn’t like me kissing you?” You ask him, and you can tell he’s not in the mood for sarcasm.

“That’s why I didn’t, yes.” He agrees, but before you can protest he speaks again.

“Do you know how hard I want to do this properly? To impress you? Want to get to know you and let the veil of mystery wear off before I can even hold your hand— let alone kiss you on your cheek?” He sounds frustrated now, looking up to meet your gaze.

“Tell me what’s getting in the way of that then.”

“You!” Mingyu’s hand meets the wall behind you again, “you’re so fucking tempting. I can’t even act like a good man to you right now because you’re getting in my head and I can’t take it.” 

You gently place your own hand just above the nape of his neck covered by the overgrowth of his medium length hair, pushing his head closer to yours that there’s barely any space left to breathe.

“Let’s just skip all your gentlemanly scheming this time.” You say and he swallows on nothing. “I’m letting you have your way with me now, be nice to me later.”

That’s all it takes for him to kiss you, impatiently dropping your purse off on the ground when you turn into jelly as both his hands cup your face. You moan as he grunts, taking off his suit jacket as you navigate getting your thick coat off in time.

“Fuck.” He mutters under his breath for the few milliseconds that his lips are not locked into yours, your tongue slipping in lewdly as you’ve now decided you’re making out while unbuttoning his long sleeved dress shirt.

Mingyu sucks on your tongue, earning a quick gasp from you as he begins to knead at your breasts. You feel your nipples hardening beneath the cotton of your bra, and you want him to know how aroused he’s making you - placing your hands atop the hands he’s using to feel you up you make him touch you harder.

“Come on, get me naked.” You challenge him, now seeing how blown out and lipstick stained his own swollen lips looked.

“Not here.” Mingyu runs a hand through his hair. “I’ll fuck you here against this wall next time, but I want to be sweet to you the first time, got that?” 

“Oh you’re such a romantic, aren’t you?” You trace a hand over his bare chest, ogling at the rows of muscle just proudly framing his torso.

“And you my dear, are such a little minx.” He finds a way to carry you by cradling you in his arms, back to kissing each other because neither of you can get enough. 

“First door past the living room.” You manage to say and he complies, opening the door to your bedroom.

Mingyu places you sitting gently on the edge of your double bed, allowing you to watch him. He discards the long sleeved dress shirt, removing each sleeve and leaving it on the floor. 

God he was hot. He was so insanely hot. 

“Am I impressive enough?” He taunts you again in this long game of teasing.

“I don’t know, maybe I need to see more.”

Mingyu scoffs.

“C’mon, let’s be fair. You have to tempt me.” He demands, the way that he’s staring at you is making you feel so small.

“Take it off me then,” you tug at the hem of your dress, “don’t you want to impress me?” You lean, knowing very well that the valley between your breasts will come into perfect view.

“Careful now.” 

“Don’t you want to show me how much you want me?” A smirk forms on your face and he looks like he’s too impatient to care, unbuckling his leather belt now while making his way to you.

“Arms up, baby.” He commands and you smile in a daze. Mingyu tugs so gently yet so forcefully at the silk dress that he’s able to leave you only in your underwear. You lean back, using both hands to gain some stabilization as you sit.

All you can do is focus on the way he’s getting rid of his pants, noticing the huge bulge forming underneath his boxers— but all he can do is mutter several ‘fuck’s under his breath as he admires your body. 

“Please touch me, Mingyu.” 

“You don’t know what you’re in for when you say that, songbird.” He comes close to unclasp your bra, setting your breasts free for him to touch. Your nipples going hard at the harsh intrusion of the cold air of the room, but even more so the arousal from the situation. Before you can get anymore impatient, he sucks on one of your breasts - circling his tongue around your areola. 

And so your moans flood the room, gasping at his fingers toying with your clit over your panties.  Trying to desperately please you, get the sounds out from your pretty little mouth, wanting to get you all naked for him. 

He decides he cannot wait anymore, and he takes your panties off so quickly that you gasp when his tongue swipes a lick over your pussy. Attaching his mouth to suck on your hardened sensitive clit, he brings a finger slowly into your hole. A squelching sound ripping through your load moans, and this makes him excited.

You were so fucking wet for him.

He becomes more playful now with his movements, the suction of his mouth so evidently focused at which angles brought out the most reactions - and the addition of an extra finger entering you, curling up to find the spot that was just sharply hitting your pleasure. The build up is sudden, because he knows what he’s doing.

The impressive thing when he makes you cum over his fingers and on his mouth the first time, is how he manages to keep going despite your desperate want to free from his motions. Even just for a moment, you wanted to take a break from the irregular spasms of pleasure of your orgasm - but he holds you down only with one muscular arm.

Then he makes you cum twice, three times. Your arousal dripping as far as his wrists.

“Fuuuck, you’re so beautiful, songbird.” He admires how you catch up with your own breathing, checked out of any energy you had left - but you knew you didn’t want it to end here.

He’d be content with things taking a halt here, honored to have given pleasure to your woman, but you suddenly grab the hand he used to finger you relentlessly— sticking his fingers in your mouth like a fucking lollipop. It’s such a lewd sight, and it impossibly makes his cock even harder than he thought it could. 

When you lick his fingers clean of your own arousal, you look him so dead in the eyes. “Can I please suck your cock?” You ask, although surprised when you feel him through his underwear - how massively long and thick he felt already.

Given any other time than now, he would say yes. Already listing off the times he’d want you to suck him dry, but now, he was impatient. 

“Some other time baby, I need to be inside you.” He gives you permission to take his boxers off and you do.

Your suspicions are proven to be an underestimation of how big he is, because he was really - intimidatingly huge. You mindlessly stroke his cock, lubricating his length with the precum already leaking from his tip. 

“Oh, God. Mingyu, I need you inside me please.” You say, and his face contorts into that of a wince from the sudden pleasure of your stroking and the dirty dirty words coming out of your mouth. “Need you to stuff me full.”

“That’s it.” He comments, using his strength to manhandle you onto your back - you lay on your bed with your arms pinned above your head, him on top of you. Your legs naturally spreading open to accommodate his body just settling in the middle. 

“My pretty little thing has a dirty little mouth,” he traces your lips, a darkened look in his eyes. Mingyu begins stroking himself now, lining his thick tip to the entrance of your pussy and it already stings. “Saying all that in your sweet voice too, telling me to stuff you full.” 

Before he can enter you he suddenly curses under his breath. “Fuck, baby, do you have any condoms?” He looks like his mood is almost ruined as his hair flips back in frustration, but you steady him back by placing your hands on his broad shoulders so he can look at you.

��It’s fine, I’m on birth control, and I’m clean. If you’re clean and you don’t mind being inside me raw, that’s fine by me.” You explain, and even the way that you even mention him being inside you riles him up again. 

“I am, you have no idea how many times we have to get tested in this line of work.” He mutters. “Needle exposure.” 

You lean upward quickly to place a peck on his lips.

“Come on, don’t make me wait. I told you I need you to stuff my pussy full of your cock.” It’s the sweetest dirtiest thing he hears when the melody of your voice mixes with your choice of words.

“Don’t tell me I didn’t warn you, sweet songbird.” Is all he says when he guides half of his length inside you, and the pulsating sensation of your own pussy accommodating the stretch of your walls makes it feel like he did not prepare you enough. 

Tears well in your eyes, not expecting it to hurt this much - but not expecting it to feel this good either. 

“God, oh dear God, you’re so big— Mingyu.” It’s a mixture of a sob and a moan. You can’t even focus on how hard he’s staring at you, absorbing each staggered breath and how your pussy lips seem to swell at his cock still pushing in.

“You can take it baby, I know you can.” He pushes in some more until he bottoms out, reaching a hilt inside you. It’s so hard for him to control himself because you’re so wet and warm, and so fucking tight. 

But for you, he can be patient.

It’s you that initiates the first movements, lifting your own hips and hooking your legs just behind his ass - almost like locking yourself to him.

For him, you cannot wait anymore.

You push your hips back only a little, moving just to feel the sensation of him rocking inside of you.

“We’re a little impatient, aren’t we?” He grunts as you continue, frustrated that you can’t move far enough to get his cock to plunge into you far and as deep as you know he can. 

“Puh—uh-please!” You’re frustrated, and he doesn’t miss how your brows knit and your lips part in such a lewd fucking plea. In fact, his view of your breasts delicately jouncing as your try to move and get any friction from your lewd attachment is riling him up more than you realize.

Mingyu abruptly digs his fingers into your thighs, halting your movements.

A forceful thrust rips through your pussy when he leaves so much as a tip and slams into you, and you mewl.

“You.” He thrusts once. “Have.” Another. “Got.” Another. “Me.” Another. “Going.” Another. “Crazy.” 

He lifts one of your legs straight up into the air, the shift making him feel even deeper inside you. And it is absolutely erotic when he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath around your ankle, caressing your bare leg that he’s hooking behind his head.

You almost look frail perched up against him in this angle; his well-built body seemingly engulfing yours and the sheer massive size of him pounding into you relentlessly as sweat beads down to the tips of his hair. He just keeps going, his hips a piston charging into you with such force that it unravels lewd sounds from you until the strain in your throat is obvious.

It’s even harder to catch up with the breaths you’re taking with your open mouth, but your pleasure mirrors his. 

He’s determined to make you cum again when his thumbs find the nub of your clit while he maintains his momentum. “That’s it.” Mingyu is satisfied when you squirm, trying to stop him, “you have one more in you for me, baby.” He pressed his thumb even harder and you almost want to bite down on your arm.

Head molding into the pillow as you thrash around, the high coming in unexpectedly as he puts you in a precarious position - folding you almost in half with your legs pressed against your upper half. 

“Mingyu— ah, I-I can’t anymore—ah!” You plead, but you know you don’t actually want him to stop.

Continuing to stimulate your clit, you know you’re about to cum again. “Give me one more baby,” he bites his lip to suppress his own groans, because he can feel you wrap and tremble so tightly around his cock that he’s plunging even harder into you, “cum around me, cum around my fucking cock while I’m inside you.”

This has you going, about to reach your peak, “I’m gonna… I’m gonna!” You almost scream, but as he feels that tightening coil begin he moves down to kiss you.

You unravel with a kiss, spasming around him as you reach for his muscular back to get him to pause and give you time to recover from the ongoing pulsating pleasure.

But he keeps on going, pulling away from the kiss, swearing he’s going crazy as you’re clamping down on him. 

“Inside me, Mingyu, finish inside me.” You beg in sobs, but you look him to straight in the eyes with your dilated ones. Pupils so honest, so lost in pleasure.

“Fuck.” He says. “Say that again and I’ll fill you the fuck up.”

God, he’s so hot like this. How can you say no?

“Please Mingyu, I want you cumming inside of me.” You say, and he picks up a pace you did not know to be possible. “Fill me up, baby.”

He swears he can almost imagine it, filling you up so good and so full of his pleasure. 

“Fuuuck. I’m going to cum inside you.” Mingyu says it as if saying it will seal the truth of it happening. It takes a few more moments, you clinging onto him for dear life, and he finally reaches his peak.

There, coming undone, spilling his load of cum inside you. You can feel the pulsating mess of his cock, and you squeeze even harder as he twitches. Mingyu might see stars after this, but right now - still inside you - he looks at you with warmth and admiration. A stark contrast from the intensity of his lust moments before.

The man falls lightly atop you, enveloping you in a naked embrace of steam and sweat— his deep manly scent even stronger to your nostrils. You take each other in.

“I don’t typically do this.” He admits when you find yourself playing with the ends of his hair.

“What do you mean, you don’t just give girls the best fuck of their life after having drinks for the first time?” You tease him again, but you only receive a chuckle of disbelief.

“Hate to honestly openly inform you that I did tend to fuck around before, songbird.” He says and you don’t really mind it. “But I don’t usually fuck on the first date when it comes to ladies I really really want to impress.” He nuzzles into your neck to hide his embarrassment, and now you’re not so sure that this was the same man of mystery and intimidation you thought he was. 

“What’s with you and trying to impress me so much?” 

“Am I not allowed to feel that way?” He quips, and this has you unimpressed but laughing anyway.

“You’re having my head in for a spin, you know? Just coming in out of nowhere telling me all these things I don’t know how to count for.” It feels comfortable to be honest around him, especially with his hands on you - rubbing small shapes in.

 “I’m telling you,” he whispers, propping his chin around your chest to face you properly, “I’m sincere about you.” 

You try your best to place a kiss to his forehead, giving him a smile. 

“I know you are.” 

The affair is fast paced, no warning signs and no inhibitions - just pure unadulterated dedication. 

You get to know more of him, learning that he’s more than a perceptive man: in fact he pays attention to so much detail that it feels like he lives in your own mind. He’s attentive, patient, and he always lets you finish what you want to say— Mingyu even knows what you’re saying without you having to say a word of anything. Simple sighs and gestures and he’s gravitating to anything to appease your every need.

The mix of it all is impeccable, he tries so hard to please you - to impress you. But he fucks you so hard and so good that it almost feels like in those moments where he’s buried so deep inside you that he hates you. It’s the type of sex that feels almost disrespectful, but you were not in any position (literally) to complain.

To his defense, there’s no proper gage or comparison to your exhibitions. It’s almost like he wants to do and outdo everything every time. He’s bent you over backwards your kitchen counter, even living up to his promise of fucking you against your hallway walls. You’ve been at his place, impressed at how large the townhouse was - but he convinced you that real selling point was having to fuck you against any doable surface, and an added bonus if he could fill you up each time. 

Mingyu’s also had you in the back of the sleek black car right after one of your shows, not caring at all that anybody wise enough to stare more than five seconds would definitely notice the fogged up windows and the car violently moving despite it being parked. 

It’s only a miracle that you could sing the same way on stage, already having a taste of his cock many times after he promised you could suck him off— which meant that you did test your limits by having him hit so deep into your throat because you loved it when he called you his little slut. And that meant that you wanted to please him anytime you felt the warmth blossom in your chest. 

But he did retaliate, you couldn’t even count the amount of times he’s ripped through your stockings just so he can get his vulgar tongue as deep and as wet as possible to lap up at your pussy. You remember holding the hand railings of the stairs to the emergency exit of your apartment building, trying hard not to add to the sound of his slurping because anyone could come in at anytime. 

He’s the exact opposite of what you expected: a warm person compared to the secret life you know he lives in his line of work. If there was anything that did bother you even just a little bit, was how calculated he seemed to be.

Sure, he was very particularly punctual, but you did notice a routine.

You didn’t count on him catching on that you too were perceptive; running away from your past did not mean that you let go of every single characteristic that hardened your character. 

There’s a pattern you notice after a week of dating Mingyu: you can never get him available in the afternoons. At first, you slip into late nights - bodies wrapped together until the morning broke, but he would always be neatly polished before noon came around and he’d be out any door— be it your apartment or his house.

It doesn’t bother you of course, be it as it may. Whatever his set-up was still considered a profession, though not one so dignified as maybe a doctor or a lawyer.

The pattern breaks one Tuesday morning however, when he gets out of bed after a series of knocks to your door. You knew better than not to be alert, sleeping at his house and hearing all the loud knocking - but you had to pretend it did not affect your slumber. 

You feel Mingyu take a good glance at you, and sigh to himself as he puts on some pajama bottoms and answers the door. 

When you’re sure the number of creaky steps he takes to get down are correct, listening intently to the thumping footsteps - you try to get to the window of his bedroom to take a look at the street below. 

A black hearse is parked outside, and you can almost make out the person waiting at the driver’s seat. But it’s Vernon’s voice that allows you to know exactly who’s making rounds to pick Mingyu up. 

“Hate to take you away from your honeymoon.” Vernon jokes, and you know that they’re talking about your relationship. “I can smell her perfume on you too, you know.”

Mingyu chuckles, as if it’s no big deal that you’re a topic of the conversation, telling you that he must be good friends with Vernon - the same person Minnie mentioned delivered those flowers to the club. It did not take a rocket scientist for you to figure out that they were both from SVT.

“She’s not exactly my lady yet,” Mingyu admits, and you have to agree, “but I’m getting there. Or at least I hope so. And yeah, I tell her all the time that perfume might get her in trouble— but it drives me crazy just being able to smell her around. I’m like a fucking dog.”

You can even hear the playful shove Vernon gives Mingyu, the two of them chuckling now like two school boys. A stark contrast to whatever it was they were really getting to, your mind trying to go over any clue you knew about their organization - but you were blanking right now.

Anyone at the Rouge did not speak so much about SVT, and you felt a little wary.

“It’s just that Cheol wanted to make sure you were alright, the guys over at Hoshi’s were almost bulleted to shreds last night— we’re lucky Woozi intercepted about the raid and got them out of the warehouse by the dock before anyone could open fire.” Vernon says, changing the atmosphere of the conversation.

Mingyu hums, it sounds like he’s deep in thought, “they probably know I’m back.” 

“Oh, they do.” Vernon affirms, “but they want all of us to pick sides.” 

“And should I be scared?” Mingyu almost laughs, and it’s not because he’s entertained.

“Of course not brother, you know we’ve got your back.” 

“Thought so, got me worried there Vern.” The clicking of a lighter is heard, and the smell of smoke travels quickly. You duck your head back, recoiling from the smell having invaded your lungs too early for your liking - but your palms land at a strange wooden plank on the floor. 

It takes a trained eye to notice that it’s made to look as old as the other wooden planks lining the room floor, and it’s something you spot quickly. softly tapping on the board to notice that it echoes only slightly as if hollow inside. You lightly press around the edges, and with the right balance of force— it lifts open without a sound. 

Inside, you notice a metal utility box, but underneath are manila envelopes - organized in a manner you cannot quite decipher yet. 

“Let’s just finish these sticks, and I’ll let you get back to your missus.” Vernon says, and you keep the floor board closed for now. Not wanting to mind it at the moment - but now scratching at the back of your mind. 

What was in there?

“You better keep making those jokes, I'm enjoying getting teased for once.” Mingyu’s enjoying Vernon’s teasing, and it’s pretty clear in his tone. “I’m convinced that this girl is the one.” Your chest tightens, and it’s both because you feel the same but there’s also an unexplainable fear there. He may be genuine, but there was so much you did not know. 

It had you wondering if both of you could peel back all the layers of secrecy, one day being completely transparent with each other. 

“You don’t have to worry about her. She’s the songbird at the club, no one will go after her.” Vernon almost says it as if he’s easing his friend’s mind, “Neutral territory.” 

Sure, it seems good that Vernon doesn’t suspect you. Or at least, none of them do. 

“Not until I marry her, you know. Neutrality will fly out the window.”

You hear Mingyu get smacked, his cry of pain already distinct. This thing he says has your heart up to your throat, he was thinking so far ahead and your mind hadn't even wandered there yet.

“You haven’t even seen her that long— hell, I’ve seen her on stage longer than you’ve been playing house!” Vernon scolds him, “you haven’t even introduced her to us properly. Hey, is this was brothers do? Just casually say they want to marry someone?”

“Okay okay okay, just give me more time. Can’t I fall in love in peace?” Mingyu defends himself, and you can’t help but feel so warm inside when he openly admits this. 

“For you and this mess we’re in, I’m afraid that’s a privileged option to have any peace at all.” Vernon says, and it’s almost a cue for you to get back to bed before Mingyu can come back.

If you were curious before, you were itching to know more by now.

“So now you want to know?” Jennie asks you, it’s only a few hours before the Rouge opens and she’s working a shift behind the bar - cleaning the drinking glasses as you sit by one of the bar stools. 

“You’re the one who told me to be safe, were you not?” You beg her, with the best cute voice you can pull off. “You can’t tell me that and leave me in the dark— you know how secretive their group can be.”

“Yeah well, no shit are they secretive.” She nods her head. 

“So you’ll tell me?” 

Jennie sighs. “You’re lucky I love you. That, and you’re lucky Woozi and I are… somewhat close.” 

“Well?” 

“Well, a year before you came to this town everyone did not like each other - you know, territorial claims on the business district. Who owned which street, who protected the other. They still kind of don’t like each other but now I’d guess that since Mingyu came back, it feels like all the people coming in the club are almost friendly.” 

“Why’s that?” You ask her.

“Couple of bigger groups from a way’s over from here thought it would be funny to bring in opioids and other cracked up drugs into this town - and if there’s something that all the groups here in this town don’t like. It’s that. They can brawl and fight, make a big show about having bigger guns— but having regular people drugged out? No. Everyone here’s afraid of what petty addiction can do, but these days the drugs are circling around our district. No one knows where it’s coming in from.” 

It triggers a terrible memory in you, but you just nod and let her finish.

“So, you want to know about your lover boy?” She offers, obviously giving up from gatekeeping any more information from you. 

“Obviously.” You are able to say in a forced breath.

“Mingyu’s always been good to everyone, don’t get me wrong— SVT as a whole are well liked because they all have friends from all different groups, but Mingyu is in deeper than most of them.”

“Should that make me feel like I’m naive?” It makes you wonder aloud but your friend offers a good smile.

“No. He’s a good guy from what I know. Grew up normal, exceptional, good family, good school, the works. Almost too good really, kind of feels like he doesn’t belong in this world.” She says it like she’s realizing it just now. “Actually, he’s just too good that he kind of does blend in.” 

“But why is he so different from everyone else then?”

Her smile fades, “he disappears a lot, Y/N. You should know that. Just gets up and exits this town from God-knows-where, and whenever he comes back from some random place in Europe or wherever it is he does business - he comes back just fortifying the standing of SVT.”

“When’s the longest he’s gone?”

“The year you moved in and settled?” Jennie thinks back, “I think you arrived here a few days after he left.” The coincidence has you questioning it too, but Jennie speaks up again. “Hey, all I know is, people around him respect him enough— and it looks like he has a reason to stick around.”

She points her index finger straight toward you, almost like an accusation, and instead of glowering at that you find yourself in a deeper hole than from when you started. 

Mingyu never once mentions or makes you feel like he was the huge deal that Jennie had detailed to you he was. 

But in this dimly lit restaurant, you can tell that he’s receiving special treatment from the staff. Expensive wine already prepared in a gold-plated ice bucket, and complimentary cuts of cheese flowing in without even a word of instruction from him. 

“Something on your mind?” He asks you, and now you know it’s evident how you’ve spaced out.

“Just you.” You respond, and the biggest smile just paints his face. It’s strange how your heart jumps out of your chest still; this thing has been going on for almost a month now and it still feels like you’re always so peckish around him.

Always feeling like a schoolgirl, always having your heart thump so loud, always wanting more. 

“Oh I better be.” He says. “Since we’re on the topic of me on your mind, I actually meant to ask you something.”

You dread this, the way his voice softens and how he looks down at his plate like it’s scaring him to ask you directly. It was so unlike him.

“Are you going to ask me about moving the chair in my room? I know you always bring up how you seem to trip over it.” You lighten the mood, and it works.

“No, I wanted to ask you if you could be my date to the Mayor’s Banquet, actually.” He blurts out, and this typically gruff man seems so small now.

You’ve been going out to town together publicly already, comfortable with everyone knowing you had something going on. So the answer was obvious, and you wonder why he was even asking. 

“Of course I’ll come with you, why wouldn’t I?” You reach for his hand resting on the table, and he seems to melt under your touch.

“I just wanted you to be prepared because some of the guys are going to share the same table as us, and I just wanted them to properly meet my significant other.” He just called you his significant other, “and I didn’t want you to feel like I was blindsiding you.”

“Oh Mingyu, you think of me too much.” It’s endearing, really. 

“But as my girlfriend, you’re coming with me as my girlfriend— only if you’ve made up your mind. Or is this the most unromantic way to ask?" Is what he says in a hurry, before settling to his wine. The two of you never really got to touch on labels, something that didn’t feel necessary. You were in each other’s lives routinely at this point, doing everything but making things official.

It’s no longer a question, really. You thought he knew you’d say yes in a heartbeat. 

“Aren’t I already your girlfriend?” You tease him, “I probably read all the signs wrong then.” You can tell he wants to kiss you right now, but he’s holding himself back.

“Sorry, my sweet sweet girlfriend.” He says in disbelief almost.

“Yes, my sweet sweet boyfriend.” 

In one of the finer sides of town, where a massive hotel is perched to accommodate large groups of tourists and host grand conventions, is where the banquet is being held. Though this is mind-blowing-ly out of place for any choice of itinerary you may have, it seems your preferences are already changing to accommodate the man in your life. 

It’s all so already too snooty, too rich for you. Politicking in any way, shape, or form was something you wanted to avoid— and you found that this banquet was not about the Mayor’s speech at all.

It was about… politicking. That, on top of drinking and meandering. 

It’s a relief that you were going to meet Mingyu’s ‘brothers,’ as he liked to describe them on the way here. Except the people you were meant to meet didn’t want to be early enough to stick around for the initial pleasantries, making you look forward to the dinner portion of the banquet to meet them at the large circular dining table instead.

It’s Wonwoo, Vernon, and Sungcheol who accompany you— already greeting you (or really, Mingyu) with teasing smiles. Very well suited up like how you usually saw them. 

“Hello.” Sungcheol initiates, reaching out to offer you a hand, “so you’re the one softening our muscleman?” 

You shake his hand back politely, “I don’t think we have to act like complete strangers.” This makes him laugh. 

“We know you of course - the only voice we ever look forward hearing on Saturdays.” Vernon pipes up, and Mingyu seems already unpleased.

“Now, you’re not allowed to say that about my girl.” Mingyu tuts, and everyone laughs.

“Cut them some slack, Gyu. I’ve seen them at the club for longer than I’ve seen you!” You defend his friends, and he looks almost betrayed. 

“Nice to finally be acquainted with you.” Wonwoo is the next to offer you a hand, and Sungcheol finds it in him to already comment.

“You know, Y/N, Wonwoo here is sort of like… Gyu’s ex-wife.” He shares, Vernon is already holding in his laughter.

“Close.” Wonwoo nods, “more like inseparable roommates, that was before he moved out into the big world and decided to kick me to the curb. Apparently I’m not good enough for a big town house.” You know Wonwoo to typically be the type to nod in silence and not at all touch an alcoholic beverage at the Rouge, but you were surprised to find him chatty. 

You look at Mingyu who looks like he’s been disarmed defenseless, but you poke at his torso and flash him a smile. “Maybe I should be getting jealous then?” 

“Maybe just a little,” he pouts, “enough to console me.” 

“Don’t fall for it, Y/N. He hardly deserves it.” Vernon says but you shake your head and wrap your arm around Mingyu’s.

“Sorry, I can’t do that to my guy.” You smile at all of them, and you can feel the way Mingyu’s heart thumps. The arm you have in your grip is just held tighter, and you’re both just glad this is going better than you expected.

The three men coo, and you decide to finally settling into your table. But Wonwoo stays right behind to whisper something into your ear.

“You love him?” He asks, head tilted toward pointing to Mingyu who’s already in conversation with Sungcheol and Vernon.

“Wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.” You admit quickly, and this seems to please him. 

“Do you trust him?” Is his next question, and this time there’s a pause in the air - but he seems to understand your hesitation. “You don’t have to admit to that if you don’t want to.” Wonwoo offers you a look for comfort. Your mind goes back to Jennie, the floorboards in his house - how he never got around to once opening up to you about what he did on a regular basis.

But here he was, introducing you to the people in his life. Parading you around town as a girlfriend. 

“I guess you understand.” It’s already unspoken, but he agrees.

“I’m not telling you that you have to force yourself to believe me, but you should… Trust him, I mean.” He says as you two make your way near your table before anyone notices how long you’ve been talking.

“I’ll remember it was his ex-wife that told me to.” You laugh, and this seems to please him, a laugh is shared between the two of you.

Mingyu has been staring at the two of you settle down, wondering why you had a separate conversation and why he only noticed as you were about to finish— but Wonwoo gives him a knowing look and he catches a bit of your last sentence to know whatever it was… was probably in good faith.

“I like your friends.” You tell Mingyu, who looks a little surprised. 

“They like you too.” He says low enough for only you to hear. 

The banquet seems to go by smoothly now that you have three new characters to converse with, it feels a bit like you’re less alone in gawking at all the sparkled and well-made-up crowd. There’s now company for you in looking at this strange display of power and wealth from the outside.

Mingyu excuses himself when some staff call for his attention, cautiously approaching the table the five of you occupied. It seemed everyone got the memo; nobody was approaching your table in particular— keeping a good two yard circumference from where you sat. Like there was an invisible forcefield preventing them from socializing with any of you.

So it does seem strange when Mingyu stands to leave, being escorted to the Mayor’s table. 

From where you sit, you can see him so clearly. An advantage to his tall build was how he seemed to tower over everyone, and in that moment he looked like he properly blent in with all of this.

He shakes hands with everyone at the Mayor’s table, pleasantries are obviously exchanged and Mingyu seems to wear a smile with ease. Bowing, nodding, approving having his photo taken with the Mayor by the in-house photographer and some from the local paper.

Was this not out of standard protocol?

Your questioning eyes don’t go unnoticed, Wonwoo who’s been observing you speaks up.

“Trust me, we’re still getting used to being part of his world.” He says, adjusting his glasses to also give a glance to Mingyu. 

“And this is normal?” You ask Wonwoo, and he knows well enough that you’re referring to the strange scene at the front of the hall. 

What was Mingyu doing?

“Nothing in Mingyu’s life is,” Wonwoo sighs, looking at the wristwatch he sported, “but then again it’s not like we lead such normal lives either, now do we?” 

It’s something that catches you by surprise when he asks, but with a nervous swallowing of the lump that formed in your throat you have to agree. You’re simply inclined to.

Wonwoo’s not finished talking though, and maybe this was his way of comforting you - no matter how harsh it may be. “Think of it this way, he’s the one putting up a performance on stage this time. You just have to understand that it does all of us less harm than if he didn’t.” 

Your wine glass was still significantly full, but you take it by the stem and take it all in one go. Wonwoo is surprised, but it’s your turn to assure him that it’s okay.

“You told me to trust him, right?“ You say. “I’ll trust him.”

As you say this, Mingyu along with the Mayor and other notable local faces in town have already gone up into a private room, and it doesn’t evade your gaze at all. Leaving you wondering what there was to talk about that was so important.

But you had to trust him, even if it meant that you hardly trusted yourself.

“I’m sorry I had to leave you with the guys back there for a bit, I hope it didn’t feel like you were babysitting.” Mingyu tells you, the two of you leaning on the handrails of his balcony. 

“No, not at all. They’re pleasant people, your friends.” You say as he puts his suit jacket over your bare shoulders, making you quick to hug it over your body to prevent it from falling.

He wraps his big strong arms around you next, the wind cooing in as the cold is battled away by the nearness of your bodies. Mingyu whispers something about your perfume, and it makes you giggle - momentarily leaving tingles around your own body. 

“I love you.” He whispers, it’s the first time he says it, and he hopes that hiding behind your hair can save him the embarrassment. 

Your muscles tense, surprised at the confession. You know you love him too, but it’s extremely difficult to admit that you’re completely in love with a man you know has secrets. You could be selfish too. It’s the same reason why you moved to start fresh in this town, but the world had other plans when Mingyu entered your life.

It’s like you cannot escape your past at all. 

But you cannot betray your own heart like this, not when the month you’ve spent loving this man has been nothing but pure bliss. It’s not just about the amazing fucking, or the immediate longing when you haven’t been enveloped in his embrace for more than a few hours.

It was the doting, the loving in silent remembering. How you fell into instant melodic routine— how you did not have to say anything at all to know it clicked. It simply worked. Beyond who you were and what secrets you both did not divulge, it truly felt like you found another part of your soul you hadn’t known was ripped away from you.

He didn’t make your life feel like how it had been. Like running away. Pretending you were fine with the monotonous routine: doing piles of laundry, not being able to properly eat by yourself, prettying yourself up to sing at the club— only looking forward to weekends to feel like you were somebody. Like you were alive. Instead he had you yearning for everyday, knowing that there would be a better version of yourself to be learnt in love. 

You loved him too, and the realization has you terrified. 

A tear falls from your eye, and it does not go unnoticed by Mingyu.

“What’s wrong?” He panics, but he only gently expresses this. There was horror in hearing that you did not love him back, but nothing scared him more than the sight of you even shedding a single tear because of him.

“I just—“ you gasp in some hair, “I just… I love you too, that’s all.” You bring a hand to find his arm, clasping on it.

Turning to face him now, he meets your gaze for a kiss. It’s so different from any kiss you’ve had before, now your body completely turns to accommodate what’s transpiring.

Your hands finding the back of his neck and some fingers tangle up in his hair. His own hands find their way to your back and your waist, pushing you in closer to him if that could even be possible. 

“Say that again, please.” He asks you.

You deliver a small peck to his lips again before pulling away, “I said, I love you.” 

“God. I love you.” He kisses you. “I love you.” 

You’re lead into his room, away from the cold of the late night. It’s not so foreign to you, how these nights go. Scary how easy it is to kiss his lips, indulge in the fine way his body had been built the way it is. 

By this point, you know he welcomes you gawking at his naked figure. Mingyu wasn’t shy of showing off; you figured out pretty early on that he was comfortable walking around without a shirt on when the two of you were at each other’s places. You weren’t complaining though, you’d literally be an ingrate to do that. 

So when his shirt comes off in a frenzy of passionate kissing, so does your dress. You did joke several times that you felt almost like a mannequin for his reflex training, because he somehow always managed to get you undressed so quickly without making such a fuss out of it.

This time you can’t tease him, the love inside you almost making you burst.

“I love you.” He says it again, kissing at your neck as he moves down to make a trail to your collarbones and your chest. 

“How much do you love me?” 

He likes that you ask this, for him it feels like a challenge— one he can prove with his big rough hands tracing at the very lateral sides where the curves of your bust flow into the curve of your hips. It’s almost choreographed when he lays you onto his bed, spreading your legs wide like a present only for him to open. 

“I love you so much that I only want this to be the air that I breathe.” Mingyu finally answers you this way when his breath fans over your spread pussy. He kisses the insides of your thighs before he sucked on your clit. 

Mingyu was a generous lover— making sure you got your fill of pleasure all the time was something of second nature to him. If someone was pussy-obsessed, then that was the only correct way for him to be described when it came to you.

It’s messy this time: the way that he eats you out. Pressing against the back of your thighs to keep you in place, not caring just how sloppy or messy he’s getting you. And you can feel how wet everything is getting, when he fingers his spit into your hole - your arousal and all that drool from his mouth just mixing.

When Mingyu curls his fingers in the way he knows to get you to make those sounds he very much likes, you try your hardest not to shit your eyes and almost scream in pleasure. You want this moment to be special because your love confession warrants it, but it’s so hard to focus on his knitted eyebrows when he’s hitting all the right fucking nerves.

You pant, the dryness of the ventilated air through your mouth was definitely going to be an issue later - but you brush it off because he’s looking straight at you as his tongue his pressed so flat up against your pussy. He takes a hand out to intertwine it with with yours— the eye contact and everything he’s doing with your tongue just building up enough stimulation that you begin to feel the same pulsing sensation he’s just so good at giving you.

“Gonna. Cum.” You tell him, and there’s almost a  smirk on his mouth. But you can’t handle it this time because he goes even faster, even when you squirm and dig your hands into his hair. He’s the one to groan and keeps on going, already feeling the familiar taste of your cum.

The sounds you make when you reach your own climax are one of the things Mingyu tells you he lives for these days— telling you there’s no sound quite like it. So when your head thrashes around to the side, he takes the hand once intertwined with yours and reaches to keep your face up at him. 

He’s only capable of doing so because his frame was massive compared to yours, and you absolutely did not mind when he made you feel that he towered over you.

“Always so good to me.” He says, kissing around your stomach. “Feels like I’ll never be able to deserve it.” A kiss to your breasts, kissing at the hardened nipples. “But here you are giving yourself to me, telling me you love me.” You moan when he circles his tongue around one nipple as he gropes your other breast. “Fuck.”

“Kiss me, Mingyu.” You’re able to steady a hand, still feeling like jelly from your high, to lift his chin to face you. He’s so stupidly handsome. Hair just falling to frame his face — puppy dog orbs just staring up at you. As he hadn’t gone down on you just now.

And so he does, like his life depends on the gift of your lips. 

You push him off, something that still manages to surprise him when you have sex. Taking command was something you did not outwardly desire to do when you wanted to, but when you get down on your knees and nicely guide him to sit so you can suck him off - all he can do is comply. 

“You don’t have to do this for me, baby.” He winces when you lick a stripe over his long hard cock, your trail of saliva barely covering enough to compensate for the girth of him. Mingyu was truly built long and large, everywhere. 

“I want to.” You say, kissing at his pink tip, precum already leaking from the slit. 

You don’t mind how Mingyu tastes, in fact if you were to be honest - you really liked it. So when you lay your tongue out flat to accommodate swallowing him into your mouth until his tip reached the back of tour throat, it’s all in good pleasure to have your eyes well up with tears. 

When he groans and moans above you, trying his best not to push you down any further. This stretch of your mouth, and the way you salivate all over his cock, is all worth it. Even as tears fall down to your cheeks as you bob your head up and down, gagging each time the length challenged your throat— the sounds he makes and the way he trembles makes it so rewarding.

You keep going, until you notice the way he falters, gritting his teeth so close together that you can hear the way his molars click. 

“Fuck, baby. How are you so good to me?” He moans out, “my pretty little songbird taking me so well in her pretty little mouth.” 

Mingyu loves this, you know he does. In all the naked glory of his head tilted so you can see the perfect outline of his nose bridge, his thick eyebrows, and his defined jaw going slack. But you know he doesn’t want to finish like this, though he has plenty of times finished in your mouth - this time is different. You know he’s made up his mind when he holds you by your temples, making you stop.

The way his weight falls upon you is one of your favorite things, it feels like he envelopes you. You feel every muscle, every hot plane of skin just above you. 

He kisses you once more, his tongue so diligent. Collecting your moans as he multitasks between your mouth and aligning his cock to your entrance. You’ll never get used to him, his sheer size. But something new this time is how he seems almost careful, gentler than you’ve ever felt him fuck you. 

“So so good to me— so good.” He says, but you’re too lost in pleasure to utter a word - almost gasping in your sounds. His hands find their way to intertwine into yours again, somehow it’s second nature for you to reach out to each other. 

You know you love him, and it’s not about the sex. You feel it. You’ve never felt a feeling so tangible before.

Mingyu knows which spots to hit now, making good memories of which parts of your body were most sensitive. He loved having you responsive, and you were so pliable to his love. 

“I love you.” You whisper, and you mean it. It’s so difficult to find it in you to speak, especially when you let him have you like this. 

He kisses you in response, his expressions are so soft and yet so sharply focused on you. “I love you too.” 

He works hard to chase your high, no matter how easy it is for him to unravel at your sweet warm tightness. You don’t remember how you get to finish— but you do remember how fragile you feel when he wraps his arms around you as you come undone. Becoming putty in his grip as you postively vibrate in your own body.

Mingyu asks if he can fill you up and cum inside you, waiting for you to make a clear response despite the haze of pleasure you were in. And you let him.

It’s the most emotional you feel after sex, and he has you breathless. He leaves you only shortly to get a clean towel to get you settled for sleep, and though you know the relationship is set on the right path - your mind goes to the wooden floor boards. 

And what secrets could lie underneath. 

You do not notice him leave in the early morning, but he wakes you up around midday. 

Already dressed in his finest, Mingyu looks like he does when you know he’s gone off to ‘work,’ whatever the nature of that may be. But today you’re surprised by something new in his appearance. 

“Good morning.” He sends a sheepish grin to your sleepy eyes, walking over to your side of the bed where he can sit.

 “You cut it.” You reach out to him, touching the now shorter ends of his hair. 

“Do you like it?” He looks worried that you don’t.

“Well,” you purse your lips to pretend that you’re unsure, and he looks so obviously worried. “I haven’t seen you with anything but your long hair.” You say, hand mindlessly in his hair.

“I can grow it out if you want me to—“

You take both palms to his cheeks to get better leverage when you press a kiss to his mouth. “I didn’t say I didn’t like it, I’m just surprised you’re still as handsome with short hair.” You laugh.

Mingyu smiles that same toothy one you’ve gotten used to. 

“Wish I could stay longer, baby, but there are errands I have to run.” He takes both your hands in his before he stands up. “You can stay as long as you want, this is as much your place as it is mine.” He says, hovering around the doorframe.

“Alright.” You say, sitting upright on the bed.

“I love you, I’ll see you later.” And he goes wherever it is he’s supposed to. 

This becomes normal for the next few weeks. Mingyu just running in and out of the house at strange times, far from the original pattern you noticed. He tries his best to hide things from you— soiled bloodied clothes going straight to the laundry room before you can catch a glance. But you’re quick to see them when he leaves the house. 

You barely get to spend much time with him, between the Mayor’s Banquet and your love confession, it feels like he’s operating on an entirely different planet from the period you had started the relationship. Mingyu insists you stay over more often, but it doesn’t exactly mean that he’d be there at his house to spend time with you. 

Somehow, it feels lonelier.

It’s his first Saturday missing out on watching you sing at the club.

Mingyu told you he’d be there tonight, but it was an unspoken promise for him to be anyway. He just told you that he’d be around for the show the same time he always did, but your set was about to come to an end and he still wasn’t anywhere to be seen. 

In fact, the entire table SVT typically occupied was empty. No familiar soul at all.

“Thank you very much, you’ve all been such darlings tonight.” You say your ending spiel, trying your best to look the same you usually did— but the problem was that you felt disgusting inside.

You were angry, sad, confused. The empty table was staring back at you, and you already felt defeated. Hell, you didn’t even know what was even going on. 

Charging away from the stage, you go backstage to gather your things. You decided you were leaving, you didn’t want to stick around for a drink to see if any one of them were coming in. It seemed that this was your breaking point, all the running around and hiding had finally caught up to you and you felt like something was going to go horribly wrong. 

You’ve felt this feeling before, and the ending was not one you liked. 

The rush of all your emotions doesn’t give you a good recollection of how you end up back at Mingyu’s house, heart breaking at the cold and now more dark looking living space. The same way you left it in the afternoon, no trace of him coming back between then and now. 

Rain started pouring outside as if on cue to match the mood you were in, now every sound you made in this house was dampened by the competing rain drops outside. 

The first thing you do is look for the luggage cases you brought into his home, slowly moving into his place over the time you’ve been together. It’s easy to spot, but a little difficult to get— placed on a shelf above a cupboard space, another reminder of Mingyu’s tall frame and how he can easily undertake this simple task that has you cry in frustration.

But you do get it, almost having the case fall at your feet. You stuff clothes into your luggage, not worrying about the way that you’re packing it all in unorganized. 

It’s so hard to reach for things when you don’t have a proper sense of control over your body.

Any sane logical person would have waited it out, would have preferred not to overreact. But you had to admit that you were a flawed, slightly insane, and now very emotional person. And that meant that you trusted your foresight more than you wanted to. 

The only thing thar breaks you away from your heavy-handed packing and sobbing was the sound of the front door opening so abruptly downstairs. The rain had been pouring too loud outside for you to even register anyone’s arrival. 

You place a hand over your mouth, trying to silence yourself. 

If it were Mingyu arriving home, you knew his gentle approach. Whoever this was… was not Mingyu, or at least you were certain that it wasn’t him opening the door.

What you do hear is the moving of furniture around the living room, and some panicked voices commanding each other. Some of these voices were familiar.

“Be fucking careful, man! We’re trying to save him, not fucking him up even more.” You hear Vernon say as you sneak by the stairs, trying to get a good view of the commotion. 

From where you were, you saw the coffee table pushed away from the center of the living room - and the couch pushed up against the wall. None of them had bothered removing any of their shoes when they went in— traces of hurry left by the wet tracks of rain they brought in.

It’s no mistake that the groggy figure Wonwoo and Sungcheol are positioning down on the couch is Mingyu. Though he’s slumped, seemingly not in control of his own body, you were so perfectly familiar with the navy blue suit he wore this morning. But now that you cannot help but walk down the steps, a hand still clasped over your mouth but the tears still forming around the waterline of your eyes, you see that the suit is bloodied up - damped from the rain.

You almost trip over a small puddle on the floor, but Vernon catches you by the shoulders. 

“Jesus.” Is all he can say, knowing what a wreck of a situation this is having you look already distraught.

Across you, Mingyu was breathing - but he didn’t seem to be conscious. You could see the gash resting a little atop his brow bone, but that was nothing compared to the excessive bleeding of his shoulders. The culprit a dark spot, large enough to accommodate a dime it seemed.

He was shot in the shoulder. 

Just then another character enters the house, one with a compact leather case - a familiar Woozi closely following after him.

“About time you got here, Minghao.” Sungcheol addresses this man, and even though you want to stay laser focused on Mingyu - this Minghao hurriedly unpacks his things to reveal all sorts of medical equipment.

Only when your eyes dart around all six men in the living room do you notice how none of them are in the best shape. Fresh cuts and early forming bruises sported their knuckles and some areas of their faces that you could see. Only Mingyu had a bullet wound, and only this Minghao has no external injuries - but he looks as equally stressed out.

“It’s not like I can be here in a snap of a finger.” Minghao rolls his eyes, beckoning Woozi to help him prepare his tools. 

“He fell on his side too, if that helps.” Wonwoo tells him, and Minghao nods hurriedly. 

“‘Course it does.” With large scissors, they begin cutting around the shoulder line of Mingyu’s suit and undershirt, avoiding having to move his already shot shoulder that he apparently fell on too.

Vernon comes into your vision, albeit blurry from the tears you’re crying. “Hey, Y/N? I need you to be calm okay? Mingyu’s going to be fine.” Then you notice Sungcheol and Wonwoo look at you to respond to Vernon, but you keep your sights on Mingyu— whose bullet wound you see now as clear as day.

Was this how it was going to be?

The feeling of running away from a life that constantly scared you? And now, having someone worthwhile to care for - to love for, but at the risk of never knowing if they were safe?

You simply nod, still in tears, holding in the way you want to breathe so sporadically. Allowing Vernon to pat your back, as Sungcheol approaches to do the same. 

It’s easy for you to go back upstairs and put back your things the way that they normally seemed; from then until the next three days— it seemed all the SVT members were taking rounds keeping Mingyu in what seemed to be their version of a hospital inside the living room on the first floor. 

Minghao, you’d learned, was their in-house doctor. They did not have to explain how very necessary it was to have somebody around to mediate things of physical injury, but you figured it made sense. In all the seriously strange-for-you, but certainly not-so-strange-for-them manner of things.

It did not seem appropriate for you to leave Mingyu, not when you also took your time hovering around his not yet so responsive state. If everybody else had gone back home, or decided to take refuge in one of the guest bedrooms or one of the other couches - you found yourself doting on Mingyu. Hoping he’d do more than wince at the antiseptics used to clean his wounds, or mumble, nod, and groggily comply if he was moved around to go to the bathroom or have a wash up. He couldn’t even eat so properly yet. Not that you noticed.

Mingyu is almost functional after five days. 

Almost is quite loose, actually. He can barely reach for anything beyond a 90 degree angle, but he was lucky his towering height could compensate.

The two of you have barely had a proper conversation, never talking directly about why he got shot in the shoulder - not once mentioning what happened that evening. It bothers you that you don't get much out of him - not even about why he had to had to have a private conversation with the Mayor, where he usually disappeared to, and what got him to get shot.

Only tiptoeing around his injury, things around the house, and getting over the silence of being left alone again when the other boys decided that you two could manage without them. He could barely look you in the eye, although you had slept in the same bed— there was nothing more than his arm draped around your waist in slumber. No more than an embrace was shared, and you knew it was not normal.

So when you see him dress up in another one of his suits, you’re gobsmacked with disappointing astonishment. 

“You’re leaving?” You ask him as you stalk around the door way to the closet door where he was adjusting his tie. He seems stunned to see you there, and you can tell that he doesn’t know what to say or if any reason he can give you may be convincing enough. 

“I’ll be back, don’t worry.” He rushes to place a kiss on your forehead, “I’ll see you tonight.” Is the last thing he says before he leaves you.

That was also the last thing he said the night he didn’t show up to the club. 

You did not have it in you to fight him, to run down the driveway of his lawn and try to sway him to tell you what was going on that was worth risking his life for. That part of you already dissipated the night you almost packed up and left.

Mingyu already seemed determined, too passive to feel like he needed to explain. You could tell that his mind was anywhere else than with you, and it lead you to believe that the answers you longed for from him could be found under the floorboards. 

Just looming around the back of your mind waiting to be revealed. 

Tonight. He’d be back tonight.

It was only an hour before noon now, and it meant you had plenty of time until he’d be home. That gave you more than enough time.

It is not exactly the same way it was when you first opened it. The metal utility box is no longer locked and the array of manila envelopes already in a huge mess, as if someone had been in a hurry to look through whatever was in there.

Without thinking you reach for the first thing you can— a worn out envelope with a stack of papers inside. You carefully try to remove it from where it was placed, meaning not to give yourself away should you want Mingyu not to know that you were going through things he obviously wanted to keep hidden.

You feel your head spin at the sight of you. 

All of your information, neatly typewritten onto paper - with an old photo of yours you could not even remember where it had been taken from. All the details of your birth, where you’d grown up, the name of your parents, known relatives. Everything biographically summed up. 

So you go through each page to get a better understanding of what it was you were looking at. Each page felt like a huge slap in the face.

Photographs of you from different times of your life. Some when you were just a regular teenager, some when you found yourself in a world of trouble - an ex-boyfriend introducing you to a life of excessive drinking and smoking. Then a connection between you and the night, had you known those evenings of temporary bliss would have lead you to something much deeper and much darker then you probably would take it all back.

You started singing from place to place, but at first it was not a job. It was a hobby that gave you an excuse to indulge in all the things that came with it. A free drink or two, a little standing ovation, a cloud of cigarette smoke — but what mattered the most to you was pleasing your boyfriend at the time. Acceptance was addicting, and you found that he was easy to please for as long as you said yes to everything he wanted you to do.  

It started with a small roll of something you thought was like a regular cigarette, your ex-boyfriend had passed it onto you - telling you to take a little inhale. Then it turned into something else, powders, injectables. All of them forcefully given to you. 

You did not like it. At first you did, but as you found yourself lost to it— an overstimulation that took over— you wanted to escape it.

But as unlucky as you were, you did not realize that your ex-boyfriend had lead the operation. A twisted take at a business operation, leading a drug cartel into a small town - he said it was overflow from the city. You found out that he planned to turn you into a mule of sorts, wanting to stuff supplies into your body if he got you so pliant— making big shipments through you, an unsuspecting thing, so he could climb up the hierarchy of crime lords. 

Before it was too late, before you could lose yourself entirely to addiction or his control, you packed your bags and took off. It was to your luck that you were more observant than necessary; you now understood that in some way you would always be connected to this type of life.

Dealers knew you, some other people who made transactions with your ex knew you— you were now a face that rang up their memories. Regardless of what you did before or what you would end up doing after, you were part of this world even if it did not want you. 

So you made friends with some of the people around him, and it got you familiar with all the sorts of ideas to get away as safely as you could. Your voice was the ticket out, a club at a few towns far enough from where you came from.

A neutral territory, was how it was said to you.

It would not keep you out of the circulation, but it would keep you safe. Give you an air of peace at least. 

So now, looking at a file on your entire history, that you knew Mingyu had and owned. It sent a huge pang of betrayal across your chest. Like it was you who had been shot, but by something more painful than anything you could physically imagine.

So you try to look through all the other envelopes- some files on other people working in the club, some of Jennie and Minnie. Other patrons at the Rouge, some part of other organized groups. Some documents about the circulating drug trade. 

All of these things you were running away from was just stored away at the bedroom you found the escape of love in. 

The last thing you look into is the metal box already unlocked. A shiny, gold plated badge is there, sitting atop a leather case. Next to it a police-issued gun, not that you knew it was specifically police— but you were familiar with the type of firearm men-in-uniforms were given. Except this one was a little more complicated; a silencer attached to its muscle.

Then you notice it, a dry seal from a government office right outside the manila envelopes you went through. If only you could shriek, but you keep yourself quiet. 

Mingyu was part of something else entirely, and it made you even more scared to have known more now than knowing less before.

Then it clicks, Jennie had mentioned it before. They didn’t hide how they wanted to stop the drugs from coming into this town - and it did seem like no other organized group wanted that to happen either. 

The Rouge was worth looking into; neutral territories typically meant unregulated grounds. Maybe they wanted to look into you because it wasn’t so hard to dig up on your history, and by the way things were pinned at— you were at the top of their list.

It is now that you decide to leave not because you had anything you had to hide, but because you cannot handle secrets like this. And you did not know how much any of this was real anymore. 

So you quickly round up anything you owned, not bothering to hide how you left his treasure trove of intel either.

You wanted him to know that you knew. 

You knew he would try to come after you. Not because you thought it of his nature as an agent or a cop… or whatever he actually was… but because of this impending gut feeling pounding from your chest and swelling at your throat.

So it takes you a good two hours of adrenaline to have everything settled. 

Material objects are no longer of any sentiment to you, it’s something you learned to acquire when you first ran away. You kept everything essential; traveling light meant traveling fast - and it would be easier for you to disappear because quick travelers come in fast and unnoticeably transient than most. 

You wanted to not have any second thoughts and leave before the sun set, but you couldn’t do that. Your apartment only cleared of things you thought necessary, and your landlord was more than use to people just leaving without prior notice. To your own shock, it was easy leaving Mingyu’s house and not taking a quick glance back.

But the one place you had to say goodbye to was the club, and the friends you made there. Though the feeling of your own safety was a mere illusion, it made you feel at ease for the year you stayed.

“Sorry, it just has to be this way.” You tell Jennie and Minnie, who take your sudden departure much easier than you thought they would.

“Trust me, if we had the chance to leave this place, we would too.” Jennie just comments, offering you a sorry smile.

“Just, try to keep in touch, okay?” Minnie says, and you nod.

“Not for a while,” You say and they understand immediately, “maybe when my absence becomes normal. I’ll call.” They give you one last hug before letting you go.

“You can take one last breath of this place before you go. Only if you want to.” Jennie suggests and you nod. It wouldn’t be a hassle to walk around with only one suitcase in your possession, and maybe there were a few things you needed to pick out from your vanity backstage.

The club is not busy at all. There were only the staff here at this hour, too early for any patrons to be welcomed inside. So the place was eerily quiet, more lit up and empty than you were used to than when it peaked at night. 

You make your way down to the dressing room, only a long dark corridor before you closed the door gently behind you— but the time was perfect enough for you to hear loud conversation from where you’d just come from at the heart of the club.

“Is she here?” You knew Mingyu’s voice so perfectly well by now, and so you position yourself as close as you can to the dressing room’s door - sticking as still and has close as you could to the wall even if you felt your heart drop.

“No, it’s too early for her to be.” Jennie answers him, and you can hear the way he’s trying to catch his breath. “Hasn’t she been staying with you?” 

“She— Y/N, she left.” He only says, and it’s unfortunate that no matter how lost he sounds you know that your friends won’t tell him anything.

“I don’t know, feel free to look around, it’s not like she’ll fall from the roof.” Minnie says and you hear their footsteps.

“God man, you’re so fucking stupid!” Mingyu whispers to himself, and it sounds clear as day when he walks along the corridor to your dressing room. Of course he knew about it, you two had gone here when you first kissed him.

You practically feel the way the walls vibrate when he punches them, not knowing you were there - holding your breath when you felt how near he was.

But he took a pause right outside the door, his voice so close for you to hear. 

“This is my fault. Falling in love on the fucking job, and not being honest.” He sobs, and you don’t know what you’re feeling but it’s something akin to heartbreak— to sadness. 

You gravitate towards the backdoor.

You had to go. 

Mingyu enters the dressing room, trying to recall the layout of the place to the best of his knowledge. There is no one there, not that he can see or sense, although he was always heavily guarded - he had little hope anyone would be in this very room.

He makes his way to your vanity, it seemed untouched. But nothing here was anything you needed to bring with you, that was something he noticed when you chose things to bring from his house and your apartment.

He’s lost you.

And as he lingers longer, he smells it. Bergamot and basil.

Your perfume is still in the air.

You’ve been here.

He was too late. 

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

author's note: let me know what you think!

[gyaruhana]

HELLO MY DEAREST!!

May I PLEASE request headcanons for Kang Dae-Ho with preg!reader? Could be an au or not, up to you, whatever you'd prefer

My guy is UNDERRATED and I love him very much he is my husband <3

(Also could there maybe be a small portion abt the birth? If your comfortable with that only though!!)

Kang Dae-ho/Player 388 - Pregnant!reader headcannons

Synopsis: Daeho headcannons for when you're pregnant..

A/N: tried my best with this one !! hopefully it's good

Warnings: none

NOT IN THE GAMES:

➠ it's no secret that daeho is a total sweetheart

➠ got super excited the moment you found out you were pregnant

➠ secretly wants a girl (it's not a secret)

➠ absolutely talks to your stomach all the time

➠ Like he'll just randomly kneel in front of you and start talking to your stomach even if you're barely pregnant

➠ also kisses your stomach so much

➠ because he's such a sweetheart, he's there for ALL your pregnancy cravings no matter how weird

➠ he will literally run to the supermarket to get whatever you're craving for

➠ Highkey gets emotional with you

➠ like if you start crying out of nowhere he starts crying too

➠ and then you're both just there crying your hearts out on the couch

➠ do expect him to refuse to let you do anything that might be bad for the baby

➠ Not like he wasn't doing this before but he always cooks for you

➠ cooks twice as much because he's convinced you need to eat twice as much for the baby too

➠ he wants to know the gender the moment he's able to but if you don't want to know then he won't ever mention the gender

➠ just to really hide it, he buys both girl and boy baby clothes so you'll never know

➠ he may have brought too many toys for the baby honestly..

➠ He says it's because he "doesn't know what the baby wants" so he should "get everything" so your child can have "a range of options and never be sad"

➠ (He's overthinking about what toys to get)

➠ got an idea to buy one of those pregnancy simulator things so he could get an idea of the pain when you'll give birth and regretted it so bad

➠ Became a million times more doting afterwards because he is so stressed for you

➠ The closer you get to your due date, the more panicked and stressed he gets

➠ He's always watching you because he's scared that the baby will come any second now

➠ When the day finally comes and you're just in the hospital, he's by your side and holding your hand

➠ he's lowkey sweating

➠ he may have watched a few videos on birth and he's not looking forward to seeing it in real life..

➠ he still stays by your side though because he wants to be there for you

➠ he is highkey freaking out when you're giving birth because you're practically crushing his hand in yours and you're obviously in pain and that scares him so bad ..

➠ he just hates seeing you in pain so much

➠ do expect him to cry after you finally give birth

➠ he is just so eager to hold the baby in his arms but he waits for you to do it first

➠ totally fell in love with you all over again even if you look like an absolute mess right now

➠ Overall, best dad ever and i don't think anybody expected anything less

IN THE GAMES:

➠ Moment he sees you he just knows your pregnant

➠ He must have some sixth sense when it comes to you or something

➠ so panicked and nervous because what if something happens to you??

➠ can not stomach the idea of something happening so he's immediately keeping you close to him

➠ very cautious of other people who he hasn't already bonded with

➠ Always taking care of you

➠ shares his food and drink with you because he's convinced you need it more than he does

➠ every single game he's by your side

➠ always making you lean onto him for support if you have to run

➠ Honestly might even pick you up and carry you himself just so you don't hurt yourself

➠ asks you how you feel after every game

➠ when it's lights out, he whispers the cutest things while in front of your stomach

➠ he just finds it to be so comforting to talk to the baby

➠ always promises you that you'll all make it out alive and he'll give you and the baby the best life he can

➠ Overall, still a sweetheart but also very afraid for you and the baby..

"Are you okay? Nothing's wrong, right?" Daeho asks as he sits by you. He had been incredibly worried for you the moment his eyes landed on you during the first game. He could just tell you were pregnant and that scared him so much considering you were trapped here - a place where you could lose your life at any moment. The idea put him on a constant edge and he spent every waking second by your side to keep you safe. He knows he'd never be able to forgive himself if something happened to you so he promised both himself and you that he'll get the two of you out of here and find a nice place to live where you can raise the baby. "If anything feels wrong, tell me, okay?"

[soularsss]

Drawing Likeness: with Tem!

okaay since a few people actually showed interest in me sharing a bit of what I've been doing to figure out how to really capture likeness, specifically Temuera Morrison, I figured id do my best to write it out

I am also going to entice you with some of my recent clone art! (oooh some of it is unreleaaasedd)

I am putting the whole thing under the cut because I have a feeling its going to be long:

Read more!!!

a couple disclaimers before we start

-This is not some definite post about how everyone should be drawing clones, nor is it in any way claiming that this is the right way. This is just my musings as I stare at a mans face for way too long and try to replicate it

-I am inexperienced. As kind as you all are to me, drawing real people is relatively new to me, capturing a persons identity through their features is difficult for anybody, and I am no different. I have watched many a video on likeness and had my share of classes, but If im being honest, i rarely put it into practice successfully. So there'll probably be errors in this post or things i will come back to in a few months and wish I had said/done differently

ANYWAYs you guys get my vibe im just here to ramble and today we are rambling about mr copy paste. I am doing this for Law, my clone boy, because I plan on delving further into oc fanart and I want to put effort into representing him correctly!

SO LETS BEGIN

Before even deciding what specific pose of a person I want to draw, I tend to grab a bunch of references and compile them like so

(all of these can be found on my pinterest)

Why so many? Well, we are about to delve into facial features, so when we are dealing with photos we have to take into account that there are an abundance of circumstances that will influence how a persons face will appear, some of these include:

focal length: All of these are taken on different devices, and focal length can play a big part in distorting faces

age will play a part, your face changes a bunch throughout your life!

lighting, while not as major, can muddy the waters and make it difficult to interpret facial planes and features

SO, to make sure we get a proper grasp of what's really going on, I like to make sure we have lots of options to compare and contrast with.

Next up! What I like to do is block out the main facial features with colour on different layers, the features I block out usually are the general face shape, eyebrows, eyes, nose and lips. But what you are looking for is the defining features of a person, so that could include other things! Maybe a scar, or some particularly prominent cheekbones.

I dont have any rhyme or reason when it comes to picking my colours, all that matters is you can see all the shapes clearly.

Now I may be biased, because Ive been staring at these for 4 hours, but notice how it still looks like Tem? :D

Anyways, now we can break these parts down, and you'll see what I mean about compare and contrast:

We'll start with isolating the facial shape, putting all these next to eachother you'll notice they arent exactly the same (partly because of my shoddy work) But the distinguishing features run through each shape! Namely the very soft rectangular shape I sketched out in the bottom right there. Along with his soft, wide jaw structure.

I did the same for the rest of his features!

You'll notice I highlight the prominent shapes and ratios,

When drawing anything, it is important to start from the very base shapes and build up.

When drawing something you want to look like someone, those shapes relative to other shapes is what makes it look like them.

I didnt use the same technique with his eyes and lips, but I wrote out some helpful info for them! More importantly for his eyes.

When drawing eyes, I find the most important part is where exactly I draw the creases, (along with the overall shape of the eye itself) it is important to understand where those will present themselves with hooded eyes.

NOW, with an understanding of his facial features in place, lets take a detour to colours:

before I start, a couple things to note:

-Temuera morrison versus the clone troopers in the animated shows:

While I love the animated shows they don't exactly stay close to their source material. Im going to link here to an excellent post discussing whitewashing specifically in relation to the clones.

Temuera is Māori, of Te Arawa (Ngāti Whakaue) and Tainui (Ngāti Maniapoto, Ngāti Rarua) whakapapa, and also has Scottish and Irish ancestry.

The Māori people are the indigenous Polynesian people of mainland New Zealand (Aotearoa). Māori originated with settlers from East Polynesia. Māori people often vary in skin tone, Skin colour doesn't determine ethnicity. There's often a correlation but it's not a requirement.

But that is a tangent! What we are aiming for is to stay true to Temuera.

Bringing back my reference photos from before, Ive colour picked a buncha values and theyre all over the place. Why doesnt this work?

Similarly to earlier, you have to take into account the photos themselves. Many things like lighting, colour grading (when it comes to filmography) and makeup, can alter how a skin colour presents in photo.

You can attempt to get true to life by swatching from certain places on the face. Here I've tried to pick some photos with good lighting, and I've also tried to avoid overly lit/shaded areas.

Tem has a very warm, tan skin tone, Instead of colour picking I tend to try and replicate it myself, but I do often bring in references to make sure Im staying true to the source!

a brief intermission to talk about colour theory, something I myself struggle with alot. Often, when putting in flat colours without a background, I will forget to make sure the colours i intend to use will work with the skin tone i have picked! (something that is apparent in older works of mine, not just in relation to clones, but in general, the colours I end up with stray largely from their original sources and it is something I am doing my best to keep in mind and improve in! Although I don't think i am nearly experienced enough in the topic to say I have succeeded yet lol.)

anyways back to Tem :))

Now we can put all of that into practice! Things to keep in mind when drawing out a piece next to a reference like this:

the distance between the eyebrows? how far down his face does his nose go? Basically just, in relation to eachother, where do all those shapes we found earlier, sit?

The screenshot above is from before I did it myself, but instead of directly tracing from the reference, a handy trick I use it to complete your sketch first, and then overlay a traced version to see where your inconsistencies are! Alternatively, you could move your sketch over the image, but I didnt do it that way so!! uh!! im sure it works exactly the same!!!!

When it comes to a final illustration, or any sketch that isnt a direct study, of course you can push and pull and stylise! You'll see below that I'm not exactly 1:1 to my reference photo either.

The important thing with stylisation, or at least my own personal understanding of stylisation is that you need to thoroughly understand the thing you are stylizing! "You need to know the rules to break them" and all that. While shapes, lines and rendering can change, when it comes to drawing someone, and making it look like them, you have to make sure to keep their core features true to source. Caricature can capture a persons vibe whilst drastically exaggerating features, but it will only look like them if you KEEP THOSE FEATURES!!!! SHAPES!!! AHHH!!

But that is just my perspective on the discussion of style versus realism, please dont take is as Law, I dont know what Im on about half the time!!

anyways, after fixing your sketch, add local colours!

I rexified him because why tf not! But this is where you can go crazy with that clone personalization!

And then here is a very very barely rendered version (if you guys want me to explain how i RENDER that would need to be a completely different post, and I havent had anyone ask about it yet so who knows! maybe one day) But I digress, hopefully you learnt something new through my ramblings! It has certainly helped me organize my thoughts and I have also found some areas I would like to focus more on in the future to improve my own art!

TLDR: In order to understand an object, be it a face or a building or literally anything, you have to break it down to its simplest forms, understanding LARGER shapes will help you immensely in the long run

If you guys like this sorta content do let me know! I'd be down to do similar things for armor/anything really, I am very anti gatekeep so really anything at all you want to know! Send me an ask :))

also if you see a spelling mistake.. i don’t know how that got there

[meadowfics]

physical affection

park gyeong-seok / player 246 x f!reader

all you needed was yourself, and the man who saved your life

warnings: no smut but there is a lot of physical touch and making out. consensual age gap, since reader is intended to be 21 while gyeong seok is 40 years old.

you never asked for this life.

you're only 21, you should be finishing school, figuring out your future, maybe even enjoying your youth.

instead, you're trapped under two hundred thousand dollars (USD) of debt left behind by parents who never thought about what they were leaving you with before they passed.

you had no way out.

no safety net, no backup plan.

the loan sharks didn’t care that you were young.

they didn’t care that it wasn’t your fault.

they wanted their money, and they made sure you knew that.

every single day.

when the squid game invitation found its way to you, it felt like the only option.

the debt wasn’t going anywhere, and no matter how many jobs you worked, no matter how much you sacrificed, you’d never make enough in this lifetime to pay it back.

so you went. knowing full well that this was a death trap or something mentally pricey, but also knowing you had no choice.

inside the game, you struggled to make allies.

you weren’t completely alone...you had hyun-ju, young-mi, and the mother and son duo.

they were good people.

however, you weren’t part of a real alliance.

you still felt out of place, like a stray in a pack.

since the first game, there was one person you always noticed.

player 246.

he was older, maybe ten or fifteen years older than you.

you had no clue.

he carried himself differently from the others.

calm, focused, not trying to stand out like thanos.

he always looked at you.

not in a predatory way like some of the other men, but like he saw you.

he was just as aware of you as you were of him.

still, you never had the courage to approach him.

you didn’t know if he was dangerous, if he already had an alliance, if he even cared that you were here.

then the mingle game started.

you never realized how much you relied on young-mi’s presence until she was gone.

you had distanced yourself from your allies after that unfortunate round.

now it was too late to go back.

the sound played.

the platform spun.

another round, the last round, was about to start, and you knew you had to move fast.

the second the platform stopped, you ran.

you sprinted toward the closest door, desperate to find safety before the round ended.

however, two men shoved you aside, sending you sliding across the floor as they slammed the purple door shut behind them.

panic filled your chest.

you scrambled to get up, but the seconds were slipping away.

if you didn’t get into a room now, you were dead.

before you could react, strong arms grabbed you.

you barely had time to process what was happening before you were pulled through another door.

the lock clicked.

the game was over.

you were safe.

you looked up, heart racing, and saw him. player 246.

relief crashed over you, and before you could stop yourself, you threw your arms around him.

“thank you,”

"thank you,"

"thank you,"

you choked out, barely able to hold back your tears.

surprisingly, he didn’t push you away.

instead, he held you, steady and firm, like he understood just how close you had been to dying.

he needed this hug more than you realized.

when you pulled back, your hands lingered on his shoulders, and his stayed on your waist.

it was the closest you had ever been to anybody.

suddenly, you couldn’t ignore the tension anymore.

"its no problem. I needed someone too."

he says.

“how can i repay you?”

you whispered, looking up at him.

you would do anything for him since he saved your life.

he shook his head.

“you don’t have to.”

you wanted to.

the way he looked at you, the way he had saved you without hesitation,

it meant something.

without hesitation, it meant something.

your eyes flickered to his lips. you didn’t think, didn’t overanalyze it.

you just leaned in and kissed him in the locked room.

he kissed you back, slow and deep, like he had been waiting for this just as much as you had.

the man's lips were soft, chapped, but soft.

you closed your eyes, letting yourself feel a temporary moment of peace.

when you finally pulled away, you asked him why he was here.

why he needed the money.

“for my daughter,”

he said simply.

your heart clenched. you weren’t expecting that.

“you have a daughter?”

he nodded.

“yes. she's sick. her mother died. if i don’t make it out, she has no one.”

you felt your stomach twist.

so he wasn’t just fighting for himself, no stupid debt.

he was fighting for his kid.

“this is the most selfless thing you could do for her,”

you murmured.

“i hope you make it out.”

he gave a small nod.

“i have to.”

gyeong-seok's voice was quiet but firm, and you could see the stress weighing on him.

the exhaustion, the desperation to survive.

without thinking, you reached out and took his hands in yours.

they were rough, but warm.

“do you want me to stick with you?”

you asked.

he looked at you, really looked at you, before nodding.

“yes.”

you squeezed his hands.

“then we’ll get through this together.”

from that moment on, you weren’t alone anymore.

neither was he.

after settling back into the sleeping area, you and gyeong-seok stayed close under a shared blanket in the top corner of the room.

your backs were against the cold wall, knees bent, legs touching.

the air around you was tense.

its lights out.

your breathing was steady, but your mind wasn’t.

your body wasn’t.

neither was his.

you could feel the heat radiating off of him, his arm brushing against yours every now and then, whether intentional or not.

neither of you spoke.

not for a while. it wasn’t necessary.

the game had forced silence upon you both after you guys walked out of the room.

its a forced understanding that didn’t need words.

however, the way he looked at you in the dim lighting, the way his fingers barely brushed over your hand resting on your knee..

it sent a slow, burning heat through your veins.

you turned your head slightly, your eyes meeting his.

he didn’t move right away, just stared, searching your expression.

your lips parted slightly, and that was all it took.

he shifted closer, just enough to ghost his lips over yours, waiting, letting you be the one to close the distance.

you did.

your lips pressed against his, hesitant at first, testing, but once he kissed you back, there was no holding back.

gyeong-seok's hand found its way to your jaw, fingers curling gently, keeping you in place as he deepened the kiss.

the man's lips were warm, slow but firm, like he wanted to take his time despite the circumstances around you both.

your body melted into his touch, your fingers gripping the fabric of his jacket as you tilted your head to let him kiss you deeper.

gyeong-seok's other hand slid down to your waist, his palm pressing lightly against your side.

it was nothing more than a touch, but it sent a shiver through your spine.

the blanket shielded you both from prying eyes, but it didn’t matter.

the world outside of it didn’t exist.

you shifted slightly, pulling yourself closer, slotting your legs against his.

gyeong-seok's lips moved to the corner of your mouth, down to your jaw, trailing slowly before coming back up to kiss you again.

your breath hitched, and he swallowed it, his lips parting against yours.

you pulled him even closer, desperate, aching for something you couldn’t quite put into words.

246's hand pressed more firmly against your waist, his thumb stroking absentmindedly along your ribs, like he was memorizing the feel of you.

the room around you was restless...players whispering, people shifting in their sleep, others watching for danger

none of that mattered to you.

the man's lips were soft, but the way he kissed you was anything but.

it was slow, deep, controlled, like he wanted to make this moment last as long as possible.

your fingers tangled in his hair, nails scratching lightly against his scalp, earning a quiet exhale from him.

his breath was warm against your lips as he pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours.

neither of you spoke.

the man's hand slid from your waist to your back, holding you there like he wasn’t ready to let go just yet.

you stayed like that, your noses brushing, lips barely touching, your fingers tracing the lines of his jaw.

right now, it only is you and him.

three days later, somehow, against all odds, you and gyeong-seok made it out alive.

the games were over.

the nightmare was behind you.

you had both seen too much, lost too much, but you survived.

that had to mean something.

the prize money was split between the remaining five people who survived.

even after the split, it was more than enough.

you could finally pay off your debt.

you could breathe.

for the first time in your life, the weight that had been crushing you for years was finally gone.

gyeong-seok wasted no time.

the second you were out, he used his share to pay off every last hospital bill for his daughter.

he still had enough money left to give his daughter a comfortable life.

na-yeon had been his reason for fighting, his reason for enduring.

now, she would get the care she deserved.

before anything else, he took you to the hospital.

you had been through hell..your body bore the evidence of it, bruises and wounds that would take time to heal.

you insisted you were fine, that he should be with his daughter

instead, but he refused to leave you alone.

after you were cleared to leave, you guys stayed in the hospital.

you realized that you were walking to the pediatric unit with him..

“come with me,”

he said.

“i want you to meet her.”

you hesitated.

this was personal.

this was his daughter.

despite everything, you and gyeong-seok were still figuring out what you were to each other outside of the games.

“are you sure?”

you asked quietly.

“i don’t want to intrude.”

he took your hands in his, warm and steady.

“na-yeon is the sweetest girl in the world,”

he reassured you.

“she’ll love you.”

so you went.

when you stepped into na-yeon’s hospital room, you weren’t sure what to expect.

the second her small eyes landed on her father, her whole face lit up.

“daddy!”

the toddler's voice was soft but filled with excitement.

gyeong-seok immediately went to her side, cupping her tiny face in his hands, pressing the gentlest kiss to her forehead.

then, her gaze landed on you.

curious, but not afraid.

“who’s that?”

she asked.

gyeong-seok turned to you, his expression soft.

“this is y/n,”

he told her.

“she’s my friend.”

you guys were more than friends, partners actually, but that might be too much to explain to na-yeon right now.

you stepped closer, smiling carefully, not wanting to overwhelm her.

“hi, na-yeon. it’s really nice to meet you.”

she studied you for a moment before offering the smallest, sweetest smile.

then, without hesitation, she reached for your hand.

your heart clenched.

slowly, you took it, squeezing ever so lightly.

na-yeon's smile widened.

gyeong-seok watched the moment unfold, something stirring deep in his chest.

he had entered those death games with one goal: to make it out for na-yeon.

somewhere along the way, he found another reason to keep going.

another reason to fight in his everyday life.

you.

as he watched na-yeon hold onto you so easily, so trustingly, he realized it fully.

he had found the love of his life in the most unexpected place.

in those cruel, merciless games, you were the one who stood by him when no one else did.

you were the one who reached for his hand in the dark.

now, you were here.

with him. with his daughter.

you decided that you were gonna stay with him, and na-yeon too.

especially in a world that finally, finally, felt like it was giving you both a chance.

masterlist

[mrs-monaghan]

Not to go into detail and make this long but I remember how a while ago, I was in your blog and I came across you saying;

But, it is of my personal opinion that if they broke up it would destroy JK. Jimin would be heartbroken and devastated too but it would hit JK harder.

And now that we found out Jungkook was the one to sign up for the buddy system and wrote Jimins name for who he wanted to be his partner.

https://x.com/thekmlogic/status/1881424425972814167?s=46&t=DiZ6pHHxW3ahpd70quaKnA

And it really does prove your point to a whole other level. Not that I needed another reason to believe it but because this type of love doesn’t exist for “just friends” and I’ll never know why or how people don’t see it.

We seen how deeply not having Jimin there effected Jungkook. The man was crying on live..

They went on vacations for AYS together, even back to Juju Island again, without V. Who knows about Busan after the last Juju trip.

They could last 18 months away from friends, family, ARMY, but never each other.

That’s why they’re still out and about together even on vacation.

https://x.com/stopkookminpls/status/1882055760152347025?s=46&t=DiZ6pHHxW3ahpd70quaKnA

Vmin. JiHope. Namkook. JinKook.

(My baby, Yoongi isn’t an option.)

So many close friends in BTS who could have went together. Nobody but Jikook went together. Is that not a sign something is different compared to the others?

Anybody could have went with Namjoon seeing how bad he’s struggling to be happy but no.. At the end of the day, this is just more proof on how real their relationship is.

Oh yeah! 1300% So many reasons to believe in Jikook but enlisting together... that was... that was definitely something. From what I've heard, K-taekookers stopped existing after get out of your imagination happened. Then we lost more vermin after GCF. Matter of fact many of them became jkkrs. (Unfortunately that's also when so many more were created thanks to tkk-lives, but whatever) Then more were lost after Rosebowl. And some more left after the talk during ITS 1. and of course we lost a good number after the Taennie walk in Paris. A few more left after AYS dropped but not enough stopped shipping tkk when Jikook enlisted together. But if you ask me, this is what should have had them all leaving fr fr. This... enlisting together was no small fit. Not only has it never been done before, but they really didn't have to. You know? Like u said, RM too should have enlisted with a member if it doesn't carry as much weight as we jkkrs think it does. Know it does.

It was a huge risk they took but they did it anyway because to them it was necessary.

JIKOOK👏🏽IS👏🏽MOTHERFUCKIN👏🏽REAL!!!👏🏽

So, anon is talking about this post. And while there are deeper reasons connected with their enlistment, we already know how bored JK can be without Jimin. We've seen it

(Thanks @chicknbunny13 😘)

Sidebar: boyfriend V is right there on his phone doing nothing and yet, JK is bored out of his mind. Hmm 🤔✍🏽✍🏽✍🏽✍🏽

We've seen it with every single time he came live only when Jimin left the country, talking about how he got bored and missed us.

JK is a lying liar who lies 😂 but we forgive him. If I had a Jimin I would do the same 🤣

So back to your tweet, anon. My friends and I did suspect that that's what the numbers on their helmets meant

But there was no way to be sure. All we knew to be fact was that it had to have been JK's idea.

What i love about being a Joker is that, we are never wrong. We have earned the right to be cocky. You know what I mean?

It's what happens when you actually stan the real couple. Couples, have patterns. That's why the vermin are always changing their stories... nothing about being a tkkr is consistent. Their theories change overnight depending on what they discover or decide to make up that day.

Meanwhile, Jikook are predictable because they are the true couple. And that's why when we make guesses we are rarely ever wrong.

Thanks for the tweets anon. Support Jikook for clear skin

Damn, they're fine as hell!

[monzabee]

🪩 || bee's f1 masterlist

AN IMPORTANT MESSAGE FROM THE AUTHOR!

welcome to my masterlist! you can find all of my works as of now under the cut, and here's a masterlist key to help you navigate your way through!

masterlist key: — social media au - ✧ — fic - ✶ — drabbles - ✫ — headcanons - ᕯ

MAX VERSTAPPEN (MV1)

fuck being underrated ✧ : the one where Max is dating his team principal's daugther, who happens to be the hottest model of the year.

third time's the charm ✧ : the one where you are there to celebrate Max winning his third title, and the whole world is there to witness it.

two sides of the same coin ✶ : the one where you try to convince yourself that you're not falling for your teammate, but can't help it when you realise that he is not that different from you after all.

beach read ✶ : the one where you and Max go on a holiday for the first time, and you realize just how much you love 'Vacation Max'.

viva las vegas (+18) ✶ : the one where you and Max celebrate his win in a way you’ve never done before. [minors dni!]

prison for life ✶ : the one where if anybody hurts you, Max is going to prison for life.

CHARLES LECLERC (CL16)

how you get the girl ✶ : the one where you and your boyfriend Charles attend a gala for a friend and run into Harry Styles – who happens to be your ex.

in my lover era! ✧ : the one where Charles becomes a Swiftie because of his girlfriend.

like real people do (+18) ✶ : the one where you are having sex with your boyfriend, Charles, for the first time but he wants everything to be perfect for you. [minors dni!]

you'll change your name or change your mind ✶ : the one where you find your way back home, even if the journey takes longer than you think.

this is a relationship, that i don't think anyone saw coming ✶ : the one where you and Charles think you are successfully fooling everyone on the grid, when in reality you are the ones being fooled.

the name game ✶ : the one where you and Charles try to get through one of the first hardships of parenthood.

lean on you ✶ : the one where you learn to lean on Charles more than you thought you ever could.

red, white, blue's in the sky ✧ : the one where Charles has an olympian girlfriend.

T.G.I.F ✶ : the one where writing your thesis is harder than you think, but Charles is here to help you through all of it.

pon de replay (+18) ✶ : the one where Charles decide to prove to everyone that it is him that you belong to, and only him. [minors dni!]

the smallest man who ever lived ✶ : the one where you’re thrown into a conundrum when you learn the news of your husband, Charles’, infidelity.

you can check out the rest of the series from here!

DANIEL RICCIARDO (DR3)

nonesense ✧ : the one where you and Daniel fall in love with a song, so you must share it with the whole internet.

girl crush ✶ : the one where both you and Daniel meet your celebrity crushes in the course of a weekend, and decide to give it a go.

you can check out the rest of the series from here!

redbull gives you wings ✧ : the one where red bull brings together people, again..

LANDO NORRIS (LN4)

good riddance ✧ : the one where internet discovers that Lando's girlfriend is a singer, who happens to be on a world tour.

short stack ✧ : the one where the internet is obsessed about the height difference between you and your boyfriend, Lando.

déjà vu (beyoncé’s version) ✶ : the one where a bad prank leads to you and Lando exploring an option you thought was not an option.

bad idea right? ✶ : the one where seeing Lando tonight is a bad idea, right?

greedy ✧ : the one where lando finds a certain singer cute.

diet pepsi (+18) ✶ : the one where you and Lando have a rather interesting way of resolving an argument. [minors dni!]

the roommate experiment ✶ : the one where Lando doesn’t like his roommate, not one bit—this is a complete lie.  

MICK SCHUMACHER (MS47)

a vettel and a schumacher walk into a bar ✶ : the one where Mick is dating Seb's eldest daughter, but forgets to mention this to his mentor and close friend. another problem? he can't seem to keep his eyes (or his hands) off of you.

you can check out the rest of the series from here!

heartbreak hotel ✧ : the one where you run into your ex, Mick, at Las Vegas, and chaos ensues.

ARTHUR LECLERC (AL12)

baby honey ✶ : the one where Arthur swear he's not thinking about you, his best friend, all the time – just today, yesterday, and tomorrow night.

LEWIS HAMILTON (LH44)

eight words when i think about us (+18) ✶ : the one where Coachella has both you and Lewis high on each other. [minors dni!]

he's a genius ('cause he loves a woman like her) ✧ : the one where you and Lewis (attempt to) soft launch your relationship.

hot girls support 44 ✫ : the one where your husband realises that you are, indeed, his number one fan.

what you do to me (+18) ✶ : the one where Lewis returns home to you – the one thing he desperately wants, but won't let himself have completely. [minors dni!]

partition (+18) ✶ : the one where you and Lewis are stuck in traffic in Paris, and decide to make the most of the situation. [minors dni!]

bom dia! ✧ : the one where Lewis decides to spend some time in Brazil during winter break with a special someone.

run for the hills (+18) ✶ : the one where fate decides to bring you back into Lewis’ life, making him question his belief in fate. [minors dni!]

PIERRE GASLY (PG10)

feather ✶ : the one where Pierre is the one left mourning after your relationship ends.

all around the world (pretty girls) ✧ : the one where the internet finds out about you and Pierre's relationship.

CARLOS SAINZ (CS55)

the lusty month of may (+18) ✶ : the one where it's that darling month when everyone throws self-control away, and you and Carlos decide to do a wretched thing – or two. [minors dni!]

mr.big ✧ : the one where there he was, wearing armani on a sunday, your boyfriend, Carlos.

you can check out the rest of the series from here!

OSCAR PIASTRI (OP81)

short n' sweet ✧ : the one where in an attempt to figure out who Y/N is dating, the internet come up with theories only to realise she is dating none other than Oscar Piastri and chaos ensues.

LANCE STROLL (LS18)

kiss it better ✶: the one where a crazy idea turns out to be the best possible thing for you and Lance.

©𝗆𝗈𝗇𝗓𝖺𝖻𝖾𝖾 𝟤𝟢𝟤𝟥. 𝗉𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝖿 𝗆𝗒 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗍𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝖼𝗈𝗉𝗒𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖺𝗏𝖺𝗂𝗅𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖼𝗈𝗉𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗈𝗋 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗆𝗌.

[marlynnofmany]

Names Chosen Carefully

I swung into the spaceship’s kitchen with plans to grab a snack before unpacking the bags from our latest supply run, but I paused. Coals was there showing Eggskin a screen of color swatches, and it didn’t look like a menu. Could have been something medical, since Eggskin handled both the feeding and the healing of the crew, though the conversation I’d walked in on said no.

“Vehicles are an option, but I don’t know what kind are popular there,” Coals said. He acknowledged me with a nod. “And an unfavorable skimmer model would be almost as bad as an activity that’s culturally iffy.”

Eggskin was nodding thoughtfully, tapping a claw against their lizardy chin. “The activities are probably easier to research. But I do think that either a generalized space theme or something referring to home would be the way to go.”

“Yeah, but which?” Coals asked with a sigh, staring at the handscreen. “Space might be too common, or trying too hard, and home stuff might not make sense to anyone there, including the kids.”

I must have looked like a confused dog, standing there with my head cocked. Coals took pity on me. “My cousin wants advice on what to name his clutch when it hatches,” he said, holding out the handscreen. Up close, I could see that each color swatch was scales. “This is their best guess about the likely colors.”

“Ohh,” I said. “Got it.”

Eggskin asked Coals, “Are they familiar with nearly-hatched eggs, and color distortion? Many new parents guess wrong.”

I reflected that Eggskin, whose full name was “Skin of the Egg that is Translucent and Ready to Hatch,” had probably thought about the concept pretty often. Their own scale color looked more like boogers than any egg I’d ever seen, but I’d never been privy to a Heatseeker hatching. I assume other colors would show through.

Coals nodded his brick-red snout. “They live near family. Plenty of chances to observe. And he’s been there for brainstorming names on the ol’ home planet, and his mate has too, but that’s not very helpful now.” He glanced up at me. “They just moved to a space station.”

“Are there not many Heatseekers there?” I asked.

“A few, but it’s a very intercultural place. That’s why they wanted my opinion, since I travel around so much. Thought I might have some valuable insights.”

I leaned against a counter, trying not to loom. “What have you got so far?”

Coals sighed deeply. “A lot of doubts. References to home could be great, but they might just be confusing to everyone. What kind of names would you expect to hear with these?” He showed me the screen again.

I was about to object that I was hardly an expert on Heatseeker names, then the palest one caught my eye and I laughed. “Humans would nickname that one Popcorn,” I said, pointing at the white-and-yellow image.

“Popcorn?” Coals looked at it. “What is—”

“It’s food,” I said. “A popular snack from Earth. I wouldn’t expect that to be anybody’s real name though; it’s much too whimsical and silly. Well. At least with my cultural background.”

Coals and Eggskin both looked at the colors without saying anything for a long moment. Then Coals turned the screen to me again. “Would humans of your background have food associations for the others too?”

“Well,” I said, wondering whether I was just hungry. “That one looks exactly like mint chip ice cream. Oh, and that one’s cookie & cream.” They really were; it was uncanny. “I didn’t know you guys had scale patterns with that many speckles.”

“You should see my cousin,” Coals said. “He looks like a starfield. His mate is a simple dark maroon, though. Between the two of them, the genetics are all over the place. What about these other three?”

I looked at the brown-with-red, the yellow-speckled-brown, and the deep purple. “Red velvet cake, dijon mustard, and plum. Or maybe grape. But that doesn’t make as good of a nickname. You aren’t actually going to suggest these, are you? Naming the kids after another planet’s food seems like everyone might expect them all to be familiar with that planet. Pretty sure a couple of those foods might actually be poisonous to you, too.” I flicked a glance at Eggskin, who was thankfully nodding in agreement.

“Naming a child after a toxic foreign food would do them no favors,” Eggskin said. “An adult might wear such a name proudly, but I would fully expect a youth to be pressured into eating their namesake at some point, especially if they lived somewhere it was readily found.”

I nodded too, looking to Coals.

“But,” Coals said. “It doesn’t have to be foreign food.”

I started to ask what he meant, then suddenly remembered a bit of cultural trivia. “It’s good luck to name spaceships after food, right? Does that go for people too?”

Eggskin chuckled while Coals stared intently at the colors. “It can,” Eggskin said. “It’s rather bold, though. An audacious claim that a set of parents can confer enough luck on all their offspring for them to always have food available. Very daring.” They looked at Coals with an amused expression, which Coals didn’t look up to see.

“That fits my cousin surprisingly well,” he said instead.

I smiled. “Are there Heatseeker foods that would fit these colors?”

“I can think of several.” Coals changed the screen to a text field and began typing. “This is perfect. Thank you so much.”

“Happy to help!” I said.

Eggskin suggested, “Be sure to remind them they should research any food they’re considering, and find out what associations their new neighbors are likely to have. Some things translate terribly.”

“No kidding!” I laughed, standing up and moving toward the snack cabinet. “I still remember the spaceships Worm Jerky and Raw Flesh.”

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

[disgustingtwitches]

**MDNI**

"The closest to heaven we'll ever get"

Saw a lot of stuff about Simon helping out a s*x worker. Anyways, it reminded me of a personal experience I had so... Here I am 😃

5.5k words

*This is kind of Simon needing company and being a weirdo who needs constant validation.

Not gonna lie, it gets blasphemous at the end!

~

I always played around with the idea of being an escort. I was offered to do things while working in the strip club, but I always turned it down. I was spending every dollar I made because I could always make more, right? But when I broke up with my ex and realized I didn't have the credit or rental history to get my own place, I started panicking. The only option was to put down at least three months rent cash upfront, to even be considered. Suddenly, money was drying up at the club for me, my regulars were being whisked away by girls who would do more for less. I couldn't really get mad, it's just a part of the game really. So I knew what needed to be done.

I hit up one of my girlfriends and told her that I needed the extra cash and what I was willing to do for it. She helped me set up a website, took professional photos of me, made me business cards. The whole nine yards. Now all I had to do was wait. About a week in, I finally get my first client. It was awkward and surprisingly, both of our first times in this situation. I was sent back home in a black car and a few hundred bucks richer for just 30 minutes of my time. I felt a rush I never felt before.

As the months rolled by, the money came. Luxury was the new standard for me. Designer everything, nice dinners, even nicer dates. To my surprise a majority of my clientele were, at most, 10 years older than me, and even more surprisingly, good looking. Finance bros, guys with daddy's money, or just men who had the money to spare. They always talked about how it was more fun and less work to hire me than get a girlfriend. To get a pretty girl in their arm to parade around that wouldn't bicker and give them a hard time at the end of the night. No feelings attached, just company and good sex.

So here I am Saturday night. Instead of going out to the club like a normal woman my age in Manhattan should be doing. I am in my hotel. Waiting for a call or text from someone. Anybody. My hair in rollers, makeup half done. Just waiting. My phone lights up, a text coming in:

Hi, Gia. Was interested in spending an hour with you tonight, 11pm.

I smiled to myself. Finally, someone who reads my ad properly. Follows the instructions on what to text to me. Straight to the point.

Wonderful, just need a picture of your ID or passport.

I reply. Always a rule my girlfriend drilled into my head. Safety first. If they don't do it, then what could they be planning? Anything goes bad and all you have is a name that couldn't even be real. Any client worth your time understands your safety is a priority. So this was my way of feeling safer. A moment passes before my phone dings again.

A picture of a passport, full name and age. Along with a picture. He's cute. A little older than what I usually get but I'm not complaining. I quickly look him up, nothing out of the ordinary. Good.

Great. Thank you, Simon. I'll send an address for you to send a car at 10:20. Reach out to you then❤️

Before I start to get ready he texts,

Wear something casual.

Not an odd request. Actually most clients prefer it. Want more of a girlfriend vibe rather than an escort. I finished getting ready, helping myself to a glass of wine. Playing my usual bad bitch songs, it helped me turn into the woman I needed to be- from me to Gia.

10:25 rolls around. I get a screenshot of the Uber from him. 5 minutes out. I grab my purse and strut out of my hotel, to a nearby park. Never give your real address. Always make sure you're not being followed.

A black SUV pulls up, I slide in. Exchange pleasantries with the driver and I'm off. Headed to midtown. I share my location with a friend and how long I should be gone. My phone goes off.

Walk into the building and head to the elevators on the left. 36th floor. Apt. 4A.

I nod to myself before shooting a text of confirmation.

Got it. See you soon ;)

I pull up to the building, it's huge. Nicer than most places I've been. He must have some serious cash. I walk into the building and follow the directions he gave me. A little adrenaline rushes through me as I walk up to the door, always did when meeting someone new. I knock. He almost immediately opens the door, as if he was standing in front of it. Waiting.

Simon!

I say with a wide smile. He steps aside as I walk in, looking around. Nice place. Really nice place. Ceiling to floor windows, minimalist decor, the lovely smell of something masculine and expensive. He looks me up and down as I turn to him.

You look just like your pictures.

His voice is deep, alluring, unreadable. Sends a chill up my thighs that shoots straight to my core.

You do too.

I reply playfully. A small twitch plays at the corner of his mouth before disappearing. His face inscrutable. I shimmy off my coat before he takes it, hanging it up in a closet near the entrance. I wait for him to move. He stands, hands in his pockets, studying me. An awkward minute passes before he walks to the living room. I follow.

Really nice place you got here.

I try to make the moment more comfortable.

Hm.

He responds. He wasn't like the other men I've seen before. They are sociable, or at least try to be. I take a seat on the couch next to him, our knees barely touching.

Money's there.

He gestures to an envelope on the table. I nod, grabbing it.

Do you mind if I...?

I ask, opening it up. He nods and stands to pour himself a drink. My eyes widen. This is more than my usual rate. Much more. I'm quiet, trying not to show my shock.

Was hoping to do an overnight, if that's alright.

It was less of a question and more of a statement from him. It was more than enough for a night. I nodded.

Of course, I do wish you would've told me; I would've packed a bag.

I smiled, putting the envelope down on the table. I grab my phone and update my friend on how long I'd be gone for. I put away the phone quickly and look up at him. God, was he hot. And the way he carried himself made him even hotter, so nonchalant. He shrugged, sipping his drink before sitting next to me again, some space between us.

How long you been doing this?

He stares at me, gaze so intense I squirm a little.

Just a few months.

We're quiet again. Usually I try to carry a conversation if the other party can't hold one, but he makes me nervous. I talk again, asking mundane questions. It's like pulling teeth trying to have small talk with him. Maybe he's just not much of a talker.

I scoot closer to him, our knees barely touching. He puts his drink down, and rests his arms on the back of the couch. I lean in closer to him, resting my hand on his thigh before kissing his lips. He kisses back softly. We exchange light, almost timid kisses for awhile. He finally moves. A hand reaching up to grab at my hair, gently pulling. I moan faintly and that seems to set him off. He grabs me by the throat, not hard, just enough to stand me up and guide me to his bedroom; our kisses getting more intense. We strip each other of our clothes. I unbuckle his pants and pull them down, it feels like I'm opening a gift on Christmas. He's big. I smile up at him. He just looks down vacantly. I pull down his boxers and his erection springs up, tip drooling. He opens a drawer next to the bed, pulling out a condom and rolling it on himself.

Lay back.

He commands. I obey, opening my legs. I've done this so many times before, but this time it's different. As unceremoniously as he's treating this, I can't be more excited. His body is amazing, tattoos and scars just adding to the mysterious aura. His natural scent drives me wild. I look up to him as he crawls over me, lining himself up with me. He gives a couple lazy slaps on my slick. I take a sharp breath. He watches as he slides himself in, I tense up. Most guys are well... average. And he's well... much more than that.

Relax.

He huffs. Sliding himself in more, not giving me any time to adjust. I grip the bedsheets, clenching my jaw. I stare up at him, he doesn't even look at me. His face emotionless as he watches himself slide in and out. I try to unclench, opening myself up more to him.

Mhm...

He grunts. My nipples harden at his voice. I moan as he slams into my cervix repeatedly. It makes him shoot his eyes up at me, glaring into mine. His eyes dark pools, intense. He roughly hooks his arms under my knees, pushing them up to my chest. He digs even deeper into me as I whimper. He takes quick, shallow breaths.

You're so deep.

I say panting, the breath getting knocked out of me. I reach out to touch his muscular arms. He grunts and pounds harder into me. I throw my head back, whining. Trying to not wince in pain. He slows for a moment, pulling back, keeping my legs on his shoulders as he slides in and out. My breasts bounce up and down with each thrust.

You're hot.

A hint of emotion in his voice, he reaches down to knead my chest. My face gets hot. I tighten around him.

Fuck...

He makes a sound that almost resembles a moan. I smile up at him, almost proud of making him show any emotion. He looks down at me, a flicker in his eyes, a small smirk on his face that leaves as quickly as it came. He parts my legs and rubs at my clit in rough circles. I squirm under him.

Say my name.

He orders. His strokes picking up as I get used to him.

Simon~

As soon as his name leaves my lips, a deep rumble from his chest fills my ears. He leans over me, arms on either side of my head. I reach up to run my hands up and down the back of his neck.

Say you love me.

His request takes me aback. I pull him closer, my lips just under his ear.

I love you~

He immediately tenses up and takes a heavy breath. I could feel him twitch inside me as he finishes. He pulls away quickly, going to the bathroom to throw out the condom and clean up. He brings back a wet towel, wiping me down.

What's your name?

His tone as flat as ever.

Gia.

I responded. I know what he's actually asking me. Never, ever tell a trick your real name. Hell, he shouldn't even know your real age.

You know what I mean.

He glares at me. I shift awkwardly. Don't do it. He doesn't say a word, just stares in a way that makes me uncomfortable. Why should he know your real name anyways? I tell him my name. Stupid. Fucking dumbass. I kick myself. He nods and slides into some sweats, throwing me his shirt.

Let's watch something.

I throw on his shirt. Now this is what I'm used to. Being a temporary girlfriend. Pretending to be affectionate. Giving much needed companionship. He splays out on the couch as I lay on top of him. He turns on the TV, resting a hand on my ass and squeezing it. Maybe this is why he hires girls. Because of how distant he is. The man can't even hold a conversation. He flicks on some show he was in the middle of, a business dramedy that I couldn't care less about. I rest my head on his chest and he runs his fingers through my hair. We're like this for a while, quiet.

Tell me you love me.

He says dryly, looking down at me. I look up and kiss him.

I love you, Simon.

He gets hard immediately, rubbing himself on me. He gets up, lifting me up effortlessly, and throws me on the bed. He lays on top of me, pinning me down onto the bed. Kissing me much more passionately this time, like he was trying to taste every inch of my mouth.

Keep saying it.

His voice gruff. He moves his kisses down to my neck, pawing at my bust.

I love you, Simon.

I moan. I wanted him so badly. I don't care how I got him, I just wanted to take him. Something about him made me go crazy, deep inside. He yanks up the shirt I was wearing, moving his kisses more and more south.

You fuck other people raw?

I shake my head. I might've been a whore, but I wasn't reckless.

Never.

He nods.

Can I eat you out?

I look down at him. Something about seeing him between my legs makes me wanna say yes. The way his eyes looks almost as if he's pleading, desperate. No way. Never do that.

Yes.

I allow him to keep going. What the fuck am I doing? Why am I allowing this? Before I can think more, he plunges his tongue between my lips. Lapping up desperately, burying his face into me. I roll my eyes back, running my fingers through his hair.

I love you, Simon.

I gasp. It's the only thing he wanted me to say. I saw something in him, the way he reacted when I said that, it made me want to stay in his place forever. To never leave. Make him happy. It's just the good head talking, you'll snap back to your senses afterwards. He moans so quietly I can barely hear it. Barely. My legs on his shoulders, his arms wrapped around my thighs. Digging fingers into the soft flesh. He sucks on my nub repeatedly. It's a tortuously delicious feeling. I grip his hair a little.

I love you, Simon.

I look down at him, watching him devour me. He looks up at me, his eyes showing an emotion I can't decipher. He moves one hand down to slide two fingers into me.

I love you, Simon.

I moan, throwing my head back and smiling.

Hmm...

He mumbled into my heat. Pumping in and out before bending his fingers in a way that presses against my sweet spot. I hiss, pleasure flashing through me like a strobe light. I'm dripping wet. He pulls his fingers out and plunges his tongue into my entrance, trying to suck out every drop of my juices.

You taste good.

Voice as flat as ever, as if he isn't lost in between my folds. He drags his tongue up between my lips, from my entrance to my nub again. He slips his fingers in again, pressing up against my sweet spot repeatedly. I get lost in the feeling. God I could stay like this forever. He looks up at me, like he's looking for validation.

I love you, Simon~

I slip out between heavy breaths. He picks up the pace of his fingers and tongue. My face gets hot as I get closer, grip his hair a little harder. He goes even faster, harder, almost feverant. I roll my eyes back, panting. I whimper before crying out, tightening around his fingers in a vice grip.

I love you, Simon~

I force the words from my throat as I spasm under him. He continues, seemingly determined to draw another climax out of me. I mewled, trying to push his head away. He was unmoving for an unbearable moment. The only sounds were my pants and his slurping.

I love you, Simon.

I wailed, almost hoping it'll make him stop. He does thankfully. He pulls away, tearing off his sweats, beating off himself. Staring at me, his gaze is intense as ever. He grabs me by the thighs and drags me into his lap. He continues to stroke himself, staring into my wet core as if he was hypnotized by it.

Can I...

He starts, almost knowing he shouldn't ask the question.

Can I fuck you raw?

His voice is uncharacteristically soft and unsure. I blink at him, mind racing. ABORT! ABORT! THIS IS LIKE RULE #1 IN HOE-ING!!! He looked so delicious from this angle, his eyes still glued on my wetness. ARE YOU INSANE?? NO!! His throbbing, beautiful dick is twitching.

...yes.

I nod. You're the dumbest person on the planet. I insult myself a million different ways in my head. A brief moment of regret is replaced with pleasure as he slides his tip teasingly in and out of me. His jaw clenches, chest rising and falling faster. His voice cracks as a moan escapes him, his eyebrows furrow.

I love you, Simon.

I stare at him, eyes half lidded. The smallest smile spreads across his face, still looking at himself entering me. He inches his way in. Pulling in and out, going deeper each time. I squeeze him, make him bite his lip.

That's good.

He stated, voice quavering. He clears his throat before grabbing one leg and lifting it to my chest, digging deep into me. I take a sharp breath in. He hovers over me, arms on either side of my head again. He slides in and out, slowly at first then picking up to a punishing pace. I whimper and wiggle under him. He grabs my face, forcing me to look into his eyes that bore into mine.

I love you, Simon.

I stare right back at him, passion shooting right out of my eyes. His eyes flutter for a moment before blinking back into his cold, unnerving self. He continues to dig himself into me, slamming and grinding himself into the deepest parts of me. It's a painfully addicting feeling. I take his hand and press it up against my lower stomach so he can feel how much he fills me. He clenches his jaw so hard, it looks like his head could pop.

I love you, Simon.

I whisper. He drops down on top of me, snaking his arms around and behind my back to grab my ass. His mouth right next to my ear, I can hear his fast and shallow breaths. Little groans that slip out every now and then. I wrap my arms around his neck, holding him tighter.

I love you, Simon.

I hear him groan under me as I said it again. He goes faster than before, pretty much jackhammering me into the mattress. My mouth is agape and head thrown back. Only grunts escape my throat as I get fucked senseless.

Mhm...like that?

His words bounce around in my empty head. I replay it in my head over and over until I clench around him, he doesn't stop though. It only seems to spur him on even more. His warm breath tickling my ear as it gets more ragged.

Keep saying it.

He demands through gritted teeth.

Fuck... I love you, Simon.

I squeak out the words. He huffs and continues to rampage my body.

Can I come inside you?

He asks- No, begs. No use in turning back now. Just the thought made me close again.

Yes.

I nod and he breathes harder and harder until he pleads in a strained voice,

Say it.

I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside me.

I love you, Simon~

He spills inside me. His stammered breaths and moans driving me crazy. The feeling of him pumping into me driving me over the edge. I pull him closer, practically squeezing him.

I love you, Simon.

I tenderly kiss the top of his head as he nuzzles into my neck.

How often do you do this?

My head clears, a wave of regret coming over me.

Never. I never even hired anyone before you.

He says in a way so sincere I honestly believe him. How do you know when a trick is lying? Their mouth is open. Rules. Rules to live by, to be able to survive doing what I do. Rules. They all meant nothing as soon as I laid eyes on him. Somehow saw this coming a mile away in the back of my head. He pulled away from my grasp, disappointment flooded me. He leaned back, opening my legs: watching both of our cum dripping out of me.

Say it.

His eyes so focused, as if he were trying to take a picture with his mind; so he would never forget this moment.

I love you, Simon.

I say with a tender smile. His dick jumps. Good lord is this man insatiable. He stands up and does the same routine as before, cleaning himself up and then me. He hands me his shirt:

Here.

I throw it on and he leads me to the bathroom, grabbing me by the shoulders and making me face the mirror. He gently pushes my back, I lean my elbows on the countertop. I stand on the balls of my feet, trying to get my hips to meet his. As I look in the mirror, his face looks almost tender watching me sway my hips.

I love you, Simon~

I sing softly. He bites his lip, entering me again. God, I never get used to the feeling. He grabs my hips and pulls me onto him, he bottoms me out. Groaning louder this time, he pulls my hair back so I'm looking directly at the mirror, locking eyes with him.

S'it, pretty girl...

A corner of his mouth upturned just enough to know he's enjoying himself. His words make me flutter around him. He groans and starts to pound into me. The bathroom is filled with the duet of our breaths and groans. He pulls my hair so my back is pressed against his chest. He rests a hand on my throat, squeezing just enough. Moves his lips to my neck, still sliding in and out of me.

You love me? Huh?

He grunts, warm breath on the pulse of my neck.

I love you. So much.

I moaned. I repeated the phrase so many times, it started coming out of my mouth naturally. He moved his hand from my hair to my lower stomach, pressing against it so he could feel himself hitting my walls.

You love this dick, yeah? Say it.

His voice getting more demanding and urgent. I nod and look at him through the mirror, smiling.

I love it, I love this dick so much, Simon~

He nips at my neck as he continues to fuck me. His nips turn into bites. Bites that definitely leave marks. I didn't care, that didn't matter right now.

You're never fucking leaving, you know that?

A threat that sounded like heaven to me. He could keep me chained to the bed and I wouldn't care, just as long as he kept fucking me like this. I giggled with excitement.

You like that, hm?

He smiles against my skin before continuing to lick and bite my neck.

I love it~

I truly did. It felt heavenly. Better than anyone I've ever had. Ever. Something felt so familiar about his touch. As if I belonged there.

I love you, Simon~

At this point I feel like I'm reciting a prayer, the words flowing out of me like a stream. I was melting in his arms.

Turn around, wanna see that pretty face.

I did so eagerly as he lifted me up on the counter and slid inside me. I smirked up at him. He, as always, was watching himself impale me.

Looks so pretty...

He seemingly mumbled to himself. He leaned down and pressed our foreheads together, a firm hand on the back of my head. Hitting a spot so deep inside me I never knew I had. We were like this for a long minute, sloppy sounds of our sex bouncing off the walls.

I love you, Simon.

I stared into his eyes. They seem to soften for a moment before he tightened the grip on the back of my neck. A huff, and then he came undone. He stayed inside me until he was soft. He pulls out and pushes his fingers into my cunt, stuffing his seed back into me.

Hm.

He grunts in a way that sounds like approval before helping me off the counter. He leads me to bed and slips under the covers.

In my arms.

Commanding as he usually does. I press my head against his chest, his heart beating hard and fast. He wraps an arm around me, his touch much gentler than before. I fall asleep. Not too sure if he does too.

Morning comes and I'm woken up by the sun shining in my face. Sitting up, I'm in his bed, still wearing his shirt. Alone. I walk out to the living room and see him setting up breakfast on the coffee table.

You made this?

I question, surprised.

Ordered it. Good morning.

He turns to me, shoving his hands in his pockets. He looks at me expectantly. I blink at him.

Good morning.

I say. He looks at me as if he was anticipating something else. I think for a moment before suddenly remembering.

I love you, Simon.

He steps to the side, inviting me to sit on the couch. I help myself to a seat and look at the plate in front of me. It's simple, French toast and eggs. I help myself.

Are you gonna eat anything?

I look at him quizzically. He shakes his head, staring like always. We're silent as I finish my plate. I grab my phone and check the time. Almost time for me to leave.

Can I book you for longer?

His voice is gruff. An underlying tone, pleading?

It'll be expensive.

I didn't want to say that. Wanted to say I'll stay as long as he likes. But I already made too many mistakes. Gotta get back on track.

I don't care.

Of course he didn't. He could probably buy me out for the rest of my life if he wanted to. He pulled out his phone, asking for my personal number so he could send the money straight to my bank account. Hesitantly I gave it to him. He probably could find out that stuff if he wanted to anyways. My phone dings, I check my bank app. My eyes pop out of my head. I look up at him bewildered.

How long would that get me?

He asks, as if he didn't send me an ungodly amount of money.

It's enough for a whole week...

Shock still overwhelming me.

You wanna stay that long?

He doesn't really ask. He knows I'll say yes. Doesn't even wait for my answer.

I'll let you get your things.

He throws some of his clothes my way and sends me back in a car to the hotel. I grab my bags and checkout. Is this really happening? A call from my girlfriend. I tell her about his extension. She says something about making sure he's not a serial killer. We laugh, tells me to have fun, don't fall in love. I scoff as if that was the stupidest idea I've heard. As soon as I know it I'm back at his place, he's grabbing bags from me, setting them to the side. Turning to me and running a hand up the side of my waist.

I love you, Simon.

We spend the whole week tangled up in each other. Taking a break before I say those four words and he has me pinned against a wall or over a dresser or kitchen counter. Any flat surface, really.

It's Saturday night and we're showering, cleaning off sweat and other bodily fluids from each other. His touch is so gentle, handling me like I was a piece of china. He liked me. It was obvious. Seemed like the only way he knew how to show it was by fucking me, though. I liked him too. Maybe not to the extent he did.

Seemed like he found something he needed for a long time. He was hungry. Famished. He couldn't just let go of me. He's not satiated yet. Don't know if he'll ever be. It was a looming feeling. Dark and heavy. A little scary. But it made me feel more desired than I've ever been before. And not just a carnal desire. It made me feel coveted.

We're laid up on his couch. Watching the show I didn't care for before, a little more invested. My phone lights up, buzzing. The name of a regular of mine across the screen in big bold letters. This is usually the time of the month he calls to set up a date. A reminder that this is all temporary. I let it go to voicemail. He tenses up. Jealousy and disappointment radiating off him.

How much for the whole month?

He doesn't even let me think of an answer before speaking again.

How much to make you quit for good?

I'm a little shook, sure I've heard it a dozen times before. Always said in jest. But he's serious. The few words he said, he always seemed to mean. No need to waste his breath beating around the bush. My heart races. I can feel his pound against mine. A number doesn't come to my head.

Let's just see how this goes.

He doesn't like that answer. He wants something solid. A promise that I'll never leave. More than a promise. But that's as good as he can get right now. There's a tense silence between us.

I love you, Simon.

The only thing I can think of saying right now. He takes hold of me, climbing into the bed and sits me in his lap. His back against the headboard.

C'mon love.

He says frigid. An underlying tone of disappointment and hurt. I slide myself down on him, a little more adjusted to his size now. He wraps strong arms around my waist, pulling me so close it seems like he wants to coalesce into my very being.

Give me a number.

A demand that seems more like a plea. We hold each other. Unmoving as he is still buried deep inside me.

Maybe it is a little toxic to spiral into the addiction to fast money. Maybe I'm a little sick of pretending to be the perfect woman. Maybe it is a little exhausting to be a fantasy and nothing more. Maybe it is a little lonely when it's just me lying in bed, when I have to comfort others. Where's my comfort in all of this? Where's my happiness in all of this? No more fake smiles. No more fake orgasms. No more fake feelings. I don't care if he's lying. I want to indulge in delusion. Even for a moment.

Ok.

I give in. He leans over, placing me on my back before adjusting himself on top of me. Touches my face, his showing an emotion that is genuine and staggering. Devotion? It feels like it.

I could almost cry, the way he takes me like I'm his. The way he talks to me like I'm not someone he hired. That didn't matter anymore. I wasn't an escort to him. I was his girl. The sex was different. Transcendant. Divine. Did I know I wanted to be saved? Of course I didn't know; for the life of sin and suffering is simply a thing to toil in until you are shown salvation. Every time he came, he baptized me. I was born again in his eyes, I was perfect and clean. Absolved of my sins.

He looked at me with so much adoration. I looked up at him, much in the same way Magdalene did to her Redeemer. He had turned a prostitute into a Saint. The unshakeable feeling of deliverance washed over as he touched me, no longer a leper. I was saved by him. His body. His sweat. His seed. Akin to taking Communion. The closest to heaven we'll ever get.

[gh0stsp1d3r]

ℳ𝒶𝓎𝒷𝒶𝓃𝓀𝓈 𝓈𝒾𝓈𝓉ℯ𝓇

Chapter 8- hate you too

Summary: Rafe is back at Tannyhill, taking care of “business.” Pope gets himself into some trouble, and you get to talk to Rafe again. But by doing so, you betrayed the pogues and your brother.

Series masterlist

“Look at you! You’re so grown up!” Big John told you, you gave him a smile and wrapped your arms around him. It had been a while since you’ve seen him.

Everyone celebrated big John’s return to the Chateau, JJ hopping on his back with a wide smile on his face.

JJ thought of him as the father he never had, whenever your guys dad used to hit him, he always had a place at the Chateau. You had even been there quite a few times, when it got real bad.

You all sat down now, listening to them explain everything.

“Yeah, yeah, so we, um… we went to the archive in Charleston, and, uh… it was a dead end. A dry hole.. so…”

“So that’s the gold, the cross, and now El Dorado. We’re there for three, guys.” Pope spoke, pausing. “The streak continues.” He scoffed. “That’s great.”

Pope and Kiara left, you looked at JJ and he stood up. You did as well, mostly because he was your only ride at the moment.

You got him a new bike with some of the money you saved, and you were fixing the car later.

“I’m going fishing. Thanks for the beer.”

“Yea, thank you. See you guys later.” You told them, giving John B and Big John a small smile before following him.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“The cross is not on the train, Rafe. It did not arrive. Somebody stole the cross.” Wards voice spoke over the phone.

“Oh my God, wait, who stole it?” Rafe spoke, feigning his confusion.

“I don’t know who stole it, Rafe!”

“That’s rough.. I- I mean it could’ve been anybody, really, right?”

“Not really, Rafe. It could be one of a very few people.”

“Well, I mean, you know, we were just giving it away anyway… so, who cares?” He shrugged. “Who cares?”

Ward exhaled, making Rafe have a smug smile on his face.

“Okay, Rafe, okay. That’s done for now. I need you to finish the list I gave you. I want you to… sign for the east river property, when that’s completed, shut down the offices-“

“Yeah, no, I- actually I wanted to talk to you about that. Uhm, I’m thinking maybe we should keep the offices.”

“..what?”

“Yeah, I’m thinking maybe I should stay down here for a while. You know, really grow the company. I think it’d be good for us, right!”

“Listen to me, Rafe-“

“No. No, no, no, you listen, okay?” He put himself on speaker. “You listening? You remember when you told me to make myself useful? Well, thats exactly what I’m doing. I’m making myself useful, alright? I can do shit, you know? Explore options… so for the benefit of all, I think I’m gonna hang out for a while, okay?”

“Rafe, listen to me, you are there for one reason. You are to act as my proxy to shut down the companies, okay? That is our one play, and if you cannot do it-“

“If I can’t do it? If I can’t do it, then what? Then what?” He shouted, “you gonna hop on a plane? Come down here? I mean- it’ll be like a goddamn Elvis sighting! Ward Cameron, everyone! Oh my God, he lives! He’s back from the dead!”

Rafe scoffed, looking down at the ring on his finger.

“I got the family ring now, Pops. Yeah, I’m wearing it, and it’s my time to step up, okay? You’re dead.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

You took a deep breath, raising your hand to knock on the door.

“Hold on!” Ricky shouted from inside, you heard rummaging before he came over and opened the door.

He looked at you, your eyebags dark, your clothes dirty and ruined, your expression tired.

“Holy shit.” He spoke, dropping whatever was in his hands before stumbling to pick it back up.

“I- i heard you were back and i tried texting you- but-“ he said with a laugh when you wrapped your arms around him.

“Broke and lost my phone.” You told him, smiling as you pulled away from the hug.

“Shit- uh, come in.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“And rumor has it, along with everything else, you stole that catamaran out there.”

“I didn’t s- I was with Sarah Cameron when i was on that boat. That’s their families boat!” He pointed.

“Not according to the registration. It’s Rafe’s boat, and he says you stole it. He’s keeping it here because he doesn’t want you around it.”

“Okay, Billy, come on. There’s got to be something.”

“I’m sorry kid.” Billy sighed out. “Guffy put the nix on it. Okay? I can find cheap help that doesn’t piss my clients off.” The phone started ringing and Billy glanced over. “I gotta go.” He sighed, leaving.

As JJ walked on the dock with tears begging to be let out, he heard a familiar voice shout.

“Damn, Rafe. Come on, country club. Bro, how are you gonna have this and not even tell me! You got a whole YMCA up on this bitch, dude.” Barry spoke with a laugh.

“Barry! Time to think. All right, we need to make a move.” Rafe shouted, standing up now.

“That’s all we do, bro. We been making moves.”

JJ hid, watching the conversation and listening in on it.

“Yeah, well we don’t have much time. Yo, come down here, you’re not gonna believe this shit.” Rafe spoke, all of them stepping down.

JJ sighed, thinking as he stood up. He took off his shoes, and dove into the water.

“I’m just saying we need to take this shit seriously.” JJ heard Rafe say when he went closer, now in front of the boat.

“Dude, bro, i should get a tooth made out of this, huh?” Barry asked, smiling as he held up a bar to his teeth.

“Look, don’t be touching the shit. Just put it back.” Rafe told him.

“So paranoid, bro.”

“I don’t give a fuck about the cross. I’m trying to make money.”

JJs head snapped up at his words.

“I told you, my aunt, she got some contacts. She gonna help us move these little bitches. The gems, the nuggets, the whole damn melted enchilada.” Barry told Rafe.

“These gems are mint, man. The golds bullion. We’re selling it in bars. Alright? I’m not gonna deal with some half assed pogue shit with some reject from Zale’s, bro-“

“Watch how you speaking about my auntie, dog.”

“I’m not talking about your aunt. I’m just…” JJ swum back to the dock, the rest of the conversation not important now that he knew about the gold and the cross.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Pope… he has the cross and he melted it down.”

Popes face fell, he stared out into the water.

“Fuck!” He shouted. “Of course it was Rafe.” He said as he panted.

“Yeah, I mean, we probably coulda guessed that.” You said.

“The cross of Santo Domingo, desecrated! For money? God!”

“I know.. so.. I think we need to stay calm to make a plan, but we got to stay-“ JJs sentence was cut off as Pope smashed the floorboards.

“Getting better at that.”

“This is messed up, man. Even for them.”

“I know.” JJ said.

“Couldn’t agree more.” You told them.

“And they’re just gonna keep getting away with it. They’re gonna keep doing that shit. Gonna keep winning.”

“I mean, pope, is this news to y-“

You hit JJs shoulder before he could finish that sentence, giving him a pointed look as he rubbed his shoulder.

“No. But I’m sick of being the good guy.” He said, before walking away.

“Pope.” Cleo said, but he started to run. “Pope, where are you going?”

︵��︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Well, I appreciate the help, you three.” Mrs. Heyward spoke, you and Cleo coming out and setting up tables.

“You know I ain’t missing Mrs. Hayward’s cooking.” JJ said with a small smile, wiping down the table.

“Unlike my derelict son. He’s usually here by now”

JJ tried to steal something off the grill, but his hand was slapped away.

“I’m sure he’ll be back any second, Mrs. Heyward. Probably just going through a rough time. It’s been hard adjusting back to normal life. For all of us.” You told her, a hopeful smile on your face.

“Either one of yall moved the pistol from in there?” Heyward spoke, pointing to the inside. “The one I keep under the register?”

“JJ?”

“Whoa, okay, I didn’t touch it. Okay?” He quickly defended

“He didn’t.” You told him.

“Yeah, well somebody did. Cause it’s gone.”

“I got my own gun, Mr. Heyward.” You held your hands up in defense when he looked at you.

“You see? I- dang it. I gotta find it.” He stormed inside, Mrs. Heyward following.

“Shit.” You muttered, turning to the both of them

“He’s going after Rafe.”

“I’ll check the marina.” You quickly spoke up. “Okay… I’ll come with.” JJ spoke, but you shook your head.

“Go with Cleo to Tannyhill. I doubt he’ll be at the marina still.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“I haven’t talked to you in a minute, all right? No, look, listen, okay, the situation is we got… I got it. I got it right here. It’s bars, in bullion. All right.” Rafe spoke on the phone, pacing on the boat.

Pope held the gun, moving it up. He cocked it, pointing it to Rafe and aiming carefully with tears in his eyes.

He heard the footsteps before he heard your voice.

“Pope..” you mumbled. “If you do this, your whole life will go to shit. Trust me.”

“I don’t care.”

“But you care about your mother. And your father. What would they think?”

“I think they would understand how I feel.” Pope said, tears now streaming down his face. “For once, he would lose like we always do.”

You sighed, sitting down next to him and putting a hand on his shoulder, as he spoke.

“It doesn’t matter anyways. I’ve lost everything.”

“Are you kidding? You have a family, you have a home. You have friends that would kill themselves for you. Pope, you are the smartest fucking kid I know, but that is some bullshit coming out your mouth right now.” You paused for a moment.

“I know that right now it feels like nothing matters, and believe me, I’ve been there, but trust me, what you do is going to matter.” You continued.

You grabbed his arm, lowering it along with the gun, he exhaled and sobbed. You held him, letting him cry into your shoulder.

“Just breathe, dude. You’re good.”

You glanced back at Rafe on the boat, watching him pace back and forth on the phone.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“I’m sorry, J. I already asked, but there’s no room left in the house. I’m sorry.” You told him, a sad smile on your face.

“You think you can stay at the Chateau for a while? I- I just got this new job, and I’m really trying. I swear. I’m gonna get like- I’m gonna have to get like two more, but I swear, I’m gonna get some place soon, even if it’s like.. a fucking shithole-“ you rambled on.

JJ nodded, cutting your off with his words. “I’ll figure it out, it’s all good. Don’t worry ‘bout me.”He told you, shrugging and putting his cap back on his head.

“Are you sure?”

“Jesus, I’m sure. Jb won’t mind, I already practically lived with him before, I’ll do it for years again if I have to.” He shrugged.

“Thank you, JJ. See you,” you nodded, giving him a small smile before walking away.

“See you, dude,”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Yeah, a lot happened after that. John B showed up, Big John had been kidnapped, and now JJ and John B were going to some professors house to get info on where he might be, because all they knew is he was somewhere in South America.

And you were currently working two jobs, one of which was a bartender one.

The bar was in a club on figure eight, so of course you heard a bunch of shit. But today, you couldn’t help but listening in on the conversation.

“You know that Rafe Cameron is sellin’ fucking gold? From like some… ancient artifact or something?” One man said to another, downing the shot he had just gotten.

“Sell a bit here, a little bit there. Under the radar.” Rafe had told Barry when he talked about the plan for selling the gold. Clearly, that had not worked as well as they hoped, since word got around.

You listened intently, your job of wiping up the bar now forgotten.

“What? That’s weird. Heard he’s been on his fuckin’ rocker ever since his dad, and ever since that one girl from the cut.. what’s her name?”

“You talkin’ bout Maybanks sister?” The man asked, not even glancing at you as you filled up his cup again.

“Yes!” He snapped his fingers. “Her. He’s been weird since they broke up.”

“Has he, now?” You asked them with a quirked eyebrow. It was then they looked at you, eyes widening in realization.

“I mean, shit, I see why now.” One of them mumbled when you walked away, making you smile to yourself.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Tannyhill parties. You hated them. You sighed as you stood in front of the house, shaking your head to yourself as you went in through the back and hopped through an open window, avoiding the dude at the front door.

Rafe really had to hire his own bouncer? That’s low.

You tried not to get spotted, and somehow it had worked. Because among all the drunk and horny teenagers, you were hidden.

You went up the stairs when you didn’t see him anywhere. And you glanced in his room, no sign of him.

“And, if you would kindly follow me, Miss Sofia.” Rafe spoke, guiding her outside.

“VIP section.” He spoke, putting an arm around her.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah, only very, very special people are allowed here.. so.”

“Mm..”

“So you can see the water…” he pointed out to the ocean.

“Hey, that ain’t no Jim beam bullshit! All right? That’s Pappy Van Winkle, that’s like a days salary bro! Aye, if you don’t have a drink in your hand get the hell out of my house! Get off my property!” He shouted to the partygoers, all of them cheering at him.

“So this is the VIP life huh?”

“Mm-hmm. Yeah.”

“Cool.” She beamed at him.

“You wanna see some more?” He asked, but before she could answer he heard a a familiar voice.

“Nice party. This shit still tastes like garbage.” You told him, holding up the red cup with some expensive shit you got downstairs.

You wouldn’t admit it stung to see him with another girl. But you did like the way her smile faltered and fell when his eyes were on you now.

“How’d you get in here? Thought I had-“

You shrugged. “I used a window. Can we talk?”

He glanced at you and back at Sofia.

“Alone.” You clarified.

“I’ll be right back, don’t go anywhere, yeah?” He told her quietly. She nodded.

You both went into his room, he shut the door behind him. You stood in front of him, your arms wrapped around yourself as you looked around the room.

“You wanted to talk, so talk.” He snapped impatiently.

“Jeez, okay, okay. Just cut to the chase, do you have my jacket? I haven’t been able to find it and I know I always left it here.”

“You came here, through a window, for a fuckin’ jacket?” He asked, his tone annoyed.

“No… that’s… that’s not my point. I just… Rafe, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t need to be.”

He was listening now.

“Why the fuck did you burn down the cross?” You asked him.

“What?” He laughed, your sudden change in demeanor was hilarious to him. “I- it’s mine. Don’t you guys get that?” He pointed to himself, his eyebrows furrowed. “Mine. I fuckin’ went to hell and back for that thing.” He pointed, voice louder now.

“Yeah, all for some fuckin’ money! Which, may I remind you, you already have plenty of. You’re being an asshole, Rafe-“

“Yeah, and when am I not with you?” He scoffed.

“Do you really wanna have this argument? Right here? And while I’m here, I broke up with you, so why are you telling people it’s the other way around? You don’t wanna seem like a pussy or something?” You are practically shouting now, happy that the music drained out the noise.

“Oh, don’t even!” He laughed. “Are you fucking-“

“It is Popes cross, not yours. And just admit you don’t wanna be seen as the boy who begged and cried for his girlfriend to come back!” You yelled at him, poking your finger into his chest.

When the fuck did you two get so close to each other? You thought.

You looked up at him, panting. He stared down at you. He grabbed your wrist, harshly holding it in his hand.

Your heart raced as he leaned down, capturing your lips in a fiery, heated kiss. One full of anger, pent up feelings. Of course, you didn’t reciprocate at first.

You fell under his spell, however, seconds later, kissing him back. His hand let go of your wrist, and were currently on your sides, pulling you even closer as you both crashed onto the floor, you straddling him.

“I- I fucking hate you.” You muttered when you both pulled away, causing him to smirk against your lips.

“Hate you too.” He told you, going back to shoving his tongue in your mouth.

————————

Taglist:

@cassie0sstuff @rafesgiirl @fals3-g0d @tiaamberxx @callsignwidow @saintnourah

[brooooswriting]

how would sam react to their s/o being mad at her, and her not knowing what she did. just curious lol

Whyyyy?

Sam carpenter x reader

This is pretty short but still kinda cute ig

Sam was confused, well actually that was an understatement. You hadn’t talked to her since yesterday evening, you went to your apartment with a small bye and since then you hadn’t answered her calls or texts. You disappeared as soon as she entered, breaking your conversation with Quinn and Tara. She only knew that you were fine because you didn’t answer Tara’s messages. It wasn’t hard to figure out that you were mad, she just didn’t know why. You were fine one moment and the next one you just left, it was confusing.

The whole day while Sam was at work she checked her phone and spammed yours with even more texts, hoping that you’d respond to at least one of them. But you didn’t. So she did the only thing she could think of, drive by your apartment. She used the key you gave her a couple of weeks ago to let herself in, it was already late.

But before she drove to your apartment she decided to stop at a small store where she got you some flowers, chocolate, a stuffed animal and a heating pad. There where two options:

1. She fucked up and that’s why you were mad

2. You were on your period

She decided to get you your favorite things either way, if you had your period you’d be happy about the gift and talk to her again and if she did something wrong she could use those things to bribe you into telling her what she did wrong so she could fix it. She didn’t want to apologize through material things without knowing what she did wrong.

The moment you heard your door open you freaked and grabbed the bat that sat next to you bed, Sam made you keep it there. You carefully walked out with the bat to see Sam, “oh you” you mumbled and sank the bat. “Yeah me, I brought you some stuff” she held the flowers tight in her hand. “Keep ‘em or put em on the counter” you mumbled walking back to the bedroom, causing Sam to groan. “Can you please talk to me? Let me know what I did wrong so I can fix it” she called out as she followed you into your bedroom. There she got here answer, there was chocolate wrappers everywhere, your bed was a mess and a pack of period articles next to your bed. Plus, you were laying in bed holding your stomach.

“Oh honey, is it your time?” She mumbled as she laid behind you in bed, her hand rubbing soothing circles on your stomach. You only grumbled in response, “does is hurt bad?” She asked again only receiving a grumble. She went and got you some pain medicine, water, chocolate and the stuffed animal she got you. “Now wanna tell me what I did wrong?” Her voice made you melt, just like the way her arms wrapped around your middle to pull you closer. “You didn’t text me” you answered in a shushed voice, after a small what it suddenly clicked. She was supposed to text or call you when she had her break at work but she didn’t. “Oh baby, I’m sorry” she started as she pulled you even closer placing a kiss on your neck. “Maggi…” as soon as you heard that name you grumbled again which made her laugh a bit, “she didn’t come to work and she didn’t tell anybody so I couldn’t take a break. Im sorry I didn’t call”

It took a second before you turned around and hugged her waist, hurrying your face in her neck which confused her. “Im sorry” you mumbled this time, confusing her for a moment, “Im just very moody and I overreacted” you continued making her coo. “It’s alright. If it hurt your feelings, it hurt your feelings and I’m sorry I caused it. Now what are we thinking about ice cream?” You immediately sat up with a grin causing her to laugh too. “Alright, I’ll be back real quick” she was about to stand up when you threw yourself at her which made her fall back on the bed again. You pressed a couple of kisses against her lips making her smile.

About 15 min late she came back with ice cream and a heating pad. “Gosh I love you” you mumbled as you devoured the ice cream. When you were done eating Sam quickly pulled you on top of her, kissing your head. “Next time, just tell me when you’re moody alright? I could have brought ice cream directly” she joked before kissing you one last time.

[madelynhimegami]

Witch Guide

You ever notice Witch is wearing the same kind of hat Link does? Anyway.

With this one done, I have three characters left from the poll I took this past November. Possibly two, since a lot of one character is largely headcanon. Like, even moreso than the others.

Point being, if there's anybody I've missed, now's the time to start thinking about it and/or possibly telling me. Or I'll just do whomever I feel like doing. Who knows.

Witch is, in a word, inventive. She's creative and intelligent and is Full of Ideas.

"Witch" is not actually her name. In fact, she literally has no name until she becomes recognized as a fully-fledged witch, as is customary for her clan.

Have you ever seen somebody that, when they play a video game for the first time, instead of playing as intended they poke around the weirdest corners, pick weird dialogue options on purpose, intentionally ignore mechanics to see how far they can get without them, intentionally avoid accomplishing a task the intended way, try to break things or go out of bounds on purpose, or marvel at the crude underbelly of the graphics engine? Witch is basically that but in real life.

(well, magical fantasy world life)

She does all sorts of absurd experimentations in potioncrafting, just to see if she can. She's also not above underhandedness, if she thinks she can get away with it.

Witch is very crafty and grabby (and sometimes lacking empathy) with potential ingredients. If it's magical, she'll want to use it in making a potion. If it's just weird, she'll still want to make it into a potion.

Once perfected, the potions she makes are powerful and are more often than not capable of working as she intends for them to. With "how she intends" being the opporative phrase.

Her potions are extremely silly, impractical, dangerous, or just plain unhelpful. She could make standard potions like health and restorative potions, but doing so bores her to tears.

An abridged list of potions that Witch has made: ☼ A potion that makes the drinker speak to birds, in that they will render them only capable of making bird noises and no other sounds. It will also not help them understand birds. ☼ A potion that makes the drinker taller. By making their neck and/or head longer. ☼ A potion that makes the drinker shine brightly enough to be Actively Painful to look directly at. ☼ A potion that changes the drinker's appearance. Randomly. Permanently. With no way to turn back except by drinking more of the potion until they become something that looks close enough to what they were before. ☼ A potion that makes other people to physically gravitate towards the drinker.

Fortunately, most of her potions have antidotes, unless stated otherwise.

Still, she's quite frustrated about her lack of making successful sales of her potions. She's aware of why, but is too dedicated to her experiments.

Witch does make potions that have practical use on occasion, such as a potion that draws out the recipient's latent power. She's also been shown working on a potion that helps with recovering memories lost through spacetime travel.

She tends to be disorganized in her crafting. She'll lose track of which potions she has or hasn't started working on, forget what potions she has on her person, and has a weird habbit of not asking for payment upfront.

She's also prone to hyperfocus, to the point of losing track of where she is or what's going on around her.

Witch has a distinct "saleswoman" front that she puts up when she wants to seem approachable. She's sketchy like a used car dealer if you aren't careful around her in this mode.

When in salesmode, Witch is all smiles and cheer, the perfect picture of innocence. Y'know, like anybody with a "customer service" voice.

Salesmode is when she's at her craftiest and most underhanded and aggressive. She'll intentionally not talk about all her potions effects, or use crocodile tears to let down your guard, or get really insistant on selling something.

Witch is proud, arrogant, and vain. She confidently boasts about her intellect, prowess, and appearance.

The upside to that, is that she takes pride in her work as well, and is more than willing to put in the work when put to task.

She also has limits to her underhanded-ness. For instance, she is completely capable of making the very scent of her products induce addiction to the point of dependency. But she won't do so (on purpose), because that's too much for even her.

Put another way, Witch is honest with herself, if nobody else.

Although rather greedy, Witch ultimately is more interested in her success with potions, rather than gaining wealth. She is willing to help someone out for free if it gives her more data, or if she feels guilty.

That said, while in full gremlin mode she also has no qualms of doing something dangerous, harmful, or violent to those around her to get what she wants. Which often consists of harvested body parts and excretions.

Witch has a very particular way of greeting/announcing her presence, "oissu," which is a variation of a very casual greeting. It's been translated variably as "Yo," "Heya," and "Howdy." I like using "Ahoy," but I think I'm the only one who does.

just don't have her say "It's potion time" anymore, please

Witch reads a wide variety of books to absorb their contents. She also has a large collection of books that includes rare volumes.

Her prized book that she keeps with her at all times was written by her grandmother, and holds many arcane secrets.

Although she's been shown sharing the contents of some of her books, including the one by her grandmother, I personally think she's very selective about what she tells others, keeping quiet on any clan, craft, or trade secrets that may or may not be within them.

Among other things about her grandmother, Wish, is that most of the spells she uses in Puyo battles these days were originally shown being cast by Wish.

Witch was also taught by Wish. She has a lot of respect for her grandmother.

Witch seems to never talk about herself on a personal level, and she sidesteps direct questions more often than not. Arle's read on her was enough to make her shy away immediately.

Speaking of which, Arle thinks Witch is ultimately not a bad person, whose help can be trusted when it's explicitly offered.

For her part, Witch doesn't need much prompting to help Arle when she's in a bind. I think Witch was genuinely touched on the one occasion Arle admitted how much she cared about her friends, Witch included.

Schezo saved Wish's life once, and for that Witch seems to be genuinely close to him. Not that it will stop them from bickering and getting on each other's nerves every chance they get.

Witch also seems to hang around Draco a lot. How that ended up happening is a riddle for the ages. The former seems to only want to use the latter as a patsy, guinea pig, and ingredient farm, but Witch is not able to deny Draco being a friend when asked.

Witch seems to be a fan of punk rock fashion (or something adjacent to it, at least), but doesn't get a lot of chances to express it. At least publicly.

[foxfirestarlight]

Friend

3000~ words.

@bluebearial writes lovely and cute things that inspired us :3

It might be a little scuffed cuz we wrote most of it at 9 pm and the rest at 11 pm the same day but it was fun to reimagine us meeting in something like Bee's world of plushies coming to life with the power of love.

It….Was a dumb idea. Bringing a stuffed toy to college orientation.

Certainly didn't give off a very masculine first impression but like? Could anyone blame you if they knew what steps these shoes have walked?

You were just out of high school when lockdown hit, and took your first year and a half online.

Now, you weren't ever a social butterfly, but even then you at least tried to talk to the people in your classes when they ran into you. That wasn't really an option when you had to ration sharing the family computer to do your coursework.

But you always had Agni sitting nearby to talk to.

…Well, talk isn't really the right word, he was just a doll and you couldn't say anything out loud or mom would think you were going bonkers from her recliner watching her medical dramas. You more just thought up something funny while trying to force yourself to figure out what a letter plus a number in parenthesis minus another number under that funny squiggle and-

Okay long story short you hated math and couldn't wrap your head around it but!! You were GONNA pass if it killed you!!!! But that's, uh, besides the point-

Point is, lockdown wasn't kind to ANYBODY'S social skills and Agni was the closest thing you had to a physical friend in that lonely, scary year, so…why not bring him along? He fit comfortably enough in your backpacks second pocket, though his ears were a bit scrunched.

…And the rest of his head, too. Oog, that had to hurt. You knew it was just a stuffed toy and they had no bones or nerves - well, actually Agni had an armature to make him posable but that's besides the point - you still felt bad enough to open the zipper and let him breathe. And then forgot about that as you headed to the assembly building.

Your eyes promptly went wide as you saw a white ear out of the corner of your eye while swinging your bag around to take a seat. You contemplated shoving him back in or hiding him under your hoodie but in your still teenage panic you were more worried about drawing attention to yourself than anything so you just acted like you.

Meant to bring a cute white stuffed bunny with you to orientation at a big college. Like it was as regular as a beanie.

And nobody really noticed! Or if they did they thought nothing of it. By the time you were at your dorm you were almost ready to pass out from nerves but! You made it!!!

Then your roommate walked in. Was just an ordinary fella, big frame, in glasses, took one look at you hugging your stuffed bunny in your big puffy hoodie, went “it'll get easier, mate”, went to bed, and started snoring worse than your dad.

Grea-tuh.

Lucky you had earbuds.

Your first few weeks were just more orientation and easing into your classes. You took a whole variety of courses cuz…to be honest you were a little bit directionless and had no idea what you wanted to do.

Ish, you wanted to get into YouTube before you learned just much work and luck you needed to put in to even get a FOOTHOLD to succeed kinda. Put the brakes on that one. Hhhh.

You found your hand squeezing Agni’s ear as you listened to your 8th professor this week drone on about something or other. It wasn't like a real bunnies ear, flat like a piece of cloth - it was stuffed. And the only part of him without an armature so it was nice and squishy.

You ran your thumb down its length, squeezing occasionally as you tried not to let the class “loud moans = peak humor” guy get to you.

‘He has to get bored of it eventually.’ He was why you bought noise cancelling headphones. And later quit a class.

Thankfully neither he nor anyone else gave you any crap for carrying around a stuffie of a popular character. Shockingly the same was said about having his little red head poke out of your bag.

You even worked up the courage to try carrying him in your jacket when it got colder out! It was a little wonky because he started slipping but how could you NOT with him looking at you like that?

…..WERE you going a bit bonkers? You could've sworn his vacant expression took on a pleading appearance when you went to take him out. A blink, and he was back to looking doofy confident. With his loose smile and slightly crossed(?) eyes.

As the days wore on and got colder, you felt more and more glad you brought something along with your pillows and blankets. Agni was a special plush, a microwaveable kind, which was good since it was the only appliance the college provided with every dorm.

It was odd, though. It kinda felt like Agg’s was still warm, even hours after sitting in your uninsulated backpack next to a broken heat vent.

Honestly, you started noticing a few odd things surrounding the little….Hang on, you SWORE it could fully fit in your bag last month. Now he could only go neck deep…Did. Did someone replace him with a bigger version?

Uhhhh???

As much as you wished otherwise, taking so many different classes meant you had a butt ton of options for friends….And only one class to work on each. Min-Maxer you certainly ain't. Er, Weren't. Point was, you weren't really a prank target. And your roomie certainly wasn't the type to burn up to 35 dollars buying a limited run doll from halfway across the world.

Back on topic, apart from the apparent size increase, there were a few more oddities to this doll. For starters, you swore it was starting to pose itself. If you dropped a pencil, it almost always wound up near its little nubby fingers.

When you plopped your bag on the dorm desk and flopped onto bed after an exhausting class, by the time you got up to get water the pocket Agni was in was almost completely open with him falling out.

Another odd thing was, it looked like he was steadily becoming overstuffed. Shockingly his stitching held up well against the strain, but unfortunately….

*SHRRRP!* “Aw, No!” It seemed it wouldn't last. With a sigh, you dialed mom to let her know you'd be sending him down to get his legs fixed up but…Something stopped you.

‘Nah, that looks simple enough to fix.’ a little voice whispered to you. ‘Cmon, let's give it a go, those old socks were probably getting tight.’ …Socks? Huh, now that you looked at it again they did look kinda like socks.

Hm.

It was, in fact, not quite that simple to fix up, you ended up buying out the fabric store’s entire sparse black fabric, but they had a surplus of Red, so you had a lot more material to work with.

Eventually, you did manage to make him a new pair of legs. They were a bit loose, and you'd removed and lost the armature somewhere along the way but they held the microwave safe cotton stuff well enough.

And without the armature, Agni was softer and squishier than ever. Though….Okay you DEFINITELY did not add that much stuffing to his chest, and no matter what you tried it didn't smooth out.

Oh, whatever. That'd been your entire weekend and change, at this point you were just glad there weren't any holes in him.

Thankful that your roomie had graduated so you wouldn't feel his concerned gaze as you drove yourself mad and gave yourself several calluses, You quickly passed out in bed clutching your warm, soft, pillow sized friend.

The next morning, you woke up in bed at noon, groggy, dehydrated, hungry, and alone. Odd, you weren't a fitful sleeper, and none of your other plushies had fallen out of your arms before.

Strange, but you did spend half a week driving yourself mad learning a brand new skill during a break….Not your smartest move. Fumbling for your glasses, you thoughtlessly mumbled “Sorry, Aggs,..” to nobody as you toss to your left to look over your bedframe at the floor and likely at your friend.

Nothing.

Huh.

….Maybe they're between the bed and the wall? You toss in that direction, peeling your parched tongue off the roof of your mouth when a voice carries through your haze. “Whatever for? You fixed me up perfectly, why are you apologizing?”

What.

That snapped you to attention, sitting bolt upright and scrambling to press your back to the wall.

Or. You tried to, at least. You unfortunately are a Freezer, rather than a Fighter or Flier, so you instead suffer a jolt throughout your entire body, hug the lip of the covers to your face, and frantically dart your eyes down the length of the dorm room, looking for the intruder.

“Oh dear….I guess that took a bigger toll on you than we both thought, huh?” The deep, womanly voice murmured. Your adrenaline fueled ears heard a shuffle, a tap shut off, some gentle weighted thumps, and sensed motion. In a panicked haze, you squeezed your eyes shut and waited.

*Thmp…Thmp…Thmp…*

*Clink!*

*Creaaaak…* That was your bed. You cracked one eye. You laser focused on the tall glass of grape juice milk set on your bedside. An odd combination but you loved the combination of fruity tang and rich smoothness all the same.

You quickly bounded for it, spilling half of it but quickly guzzling the rest. “Woah-” Ohhhhh that was the stuff…. It was only a second after you noticed the dumbfounded white face framed in red immediately in front of you. “Lucky you we haven't moved our electronics there, ya goof.”

“A…Agni??” Every ounce of levity immediately drained from her round face. “Yeah, you're definitely in no condition to do that final tomorrow.” A glance at the clock. 8:15 PM. A day before one of your summer courses finals was due. Aw fuck…

“Lucky you I got up at your usual time.” You actually managed to process what was folding its arms and pouting in front of you, stretching their big red legs out, and it was. A sight for tired eyes.

It was Agni, as you had fixed him up at least 12 hours prior but a lot bigger. About the size of a Flemish giant you guessed? Or. Or bigger…. Especially in the uh.

Chest.

And tumm- wait was that a zipper? And a heart??? “Um, Sorry about your backpack.” “Did you- waiwha- buh- huh?? Uhh?????”

“.........Uhhhh. Yes, I ate it, don't worry, I think I can pass as one well enough, no, I don't know how I became animate, no I didn't wake you up because you pulled at least two all nighters trying, failing, trying again, nearly giving up, then finally getting my legs right and you deserved it, and no I don't think I need to eat but yes you do smell pasta.”

He…She…The likely figment of your dreams flopped backwards onto your outstretched legs - WOW they were heavy but like a good heavy - to let you see a pot of steaming water on the hotplate you used for a stove. “I figured you'd need it, even if I had to stash it in Tupperware for tomorrow.”

“....When did you turn into a mini my mom.” You were too dumbfounded to add a questioning intonation.

At that, former Agni busted out laughing. A low, quick, nattering sound as she tossed her head back. With a sigh, she added. “Well, since you needed her, of course.” “Huh.” “Uh….Okay where to begin. Uh. So it started when you started leaving a hole for me to let my ears breathe.

Until then, I was just content to be along for the ride, but the night after? I could just…I dunno. I picked something up, then. That night, I could…Hear the voice of your heart?” She sat up, cocking her head to the side. “It was…strange.. Before, when you talked at me while you worked, I didn't feel anything. But since you got here, it just…cried. Cried out for something, anything to try and connect to it.

But you were scared. And after a year without it, who would blame you?” Even if it was true, it didn't sting any less…Nonetheless, you tried to stay tuned into her voice instead of the feelings.

“...And, yeah. I started trying to reach out. Little by little as you held me close to it, I listened. I wanted so badly to help.” You were never one for eye contact. Unconsciously, your eyes turned out the window, at the sparse stars a small amount of light pollution permitted. You could feel her gaze out at them as well.

“I'd like to say it was a wish on one of those, but….Nah. What's important is that I'm….here.” You feel a weight land on your hand and you turn, finally sitting up. “Whatever comes after, comes after.”

With a gentle tug, she pulls you from bed and to your chair, before going to work straining that pasta. You finally have time to rub the crust from your eyes and drink it all in.

This had to be the most elaborate, strange dream ever. God you needed to actually call home, maybe finally go pay mum and pop a visit, see if Iane is-

*Clnk!*

“Here you go! You'll sleep easier with a full belly.” Little miss Agni plopped a beautiful bowl of fresh spaghetti in front of you, then clambered up next to it expectantly. Without anything else to do, you….ate it.

“....Sho-”

“Swallow first.”

“…….So, where's all my stuff if you are…ate my backpack”

“Eheh. No, you were right the first time.”

“Oh, cool.” You quipped, before almost spitting out your spaghetti as she unzipped her tummy and proceeded to pull out your sketchbook from her neon pink innards.

“I think I still have all your pockets as well. There's one on my left leg, between my tummy and chest, in my maof…” As she spoke she pulled out your pencil case, notebook, and charging cables and earbuds.

“So. So I just inexplicably have a new backpack designed after my signature stuffed rabbit, who ripped essentially in half last my few peers know.” “Yup.” “And they know I've been working nonstop to repair it since then.” “Apparently so.” “And that “backpack” has done my summer homework.” “Not really, I just followed your outline with what was in your notebook.” “...Geez, can you slap me?” “No, nevermind, I'll do it myse-”

*PSSH!*

OW!!

“. . . . . Sooooo this isn't a dream, then.”

Clunk.

Your head hit the desk. Uuuuuuhhhhuuu you were way too out of it for this and she seemed to know it. At least you got halfway through the food before crashing.

When you came to, your face was wet, and little miss Agni had marinara around her mouth. “Morning, sleepy!” “...There better not be marinara on my earbuds and charging cable.” “Oh, they're fine, I just accidentally got some on me while cleaning up.” She says, wiping it. “Well, cool.”

You stand up, hearing and feeling SEVERAL pops and clicks as you stretch and scan the room. Looks like she started cleaning while you were out, the whole place had been a mess of red fabric, memory foam, little microwave beads, and who cares what other refuse a hyper fixated college student produced, and now it was all gone.

“...How did you. Do all of this?” You ask, fishing a can of OJ from the fridge and cracking it open. The wonders of the modern age-

“With my paws?” It was then you noticed the Velcro on them, and then the open computer she sat in front of. “What are you doing on my computer?”

“Uhhhhhhhhhsecret.” She scooted in front of it when you leaned to peek. And again. This went on for several minutes. Eventually you got fed up and scooped her up. “OI!!!” She kicked quite hard for a weighted Flemish giant plushie. “ Don't be so liftable next time, nerd.” You tease, causing her to twist from licking your chest to your face-

“Wha, OW, HEY!!” you half chuckle, dropping her like a sack of flour as you read the page she was on.

Names.com.

Opened to the page “Rei”. Long story short, in Japanese it means “Beautiful” and in Hebrew it means “Companion”.

Kicking you in the shin hard enough to knock you over, she brought you down to her level. “Don't pry into a girls business!”

“Do…Do you not like the name Agni?” She…Looked away. “...I think I've outgrown it. And I don't like it anymore.” That made you pause. “Is it because its-”

“Yes.”

“Hhhuh. Well, alrighty then Rei.” Her face lit up. “So, Rei, wanna go back to bed then? I dunno how much I'll sleep but I probably shouldn't stay up all night, right Rei?” At every utterance of the word the child-sized stuffed toy bounced on her feet more and more until she was hopping in place.

“I'll take that as a yes.” You mutter as you slip under the covers. She's there with you half a second later, warm as a bun fresh from the oven. Hah! Wordplay.

You expect to feel your things clattering around inside her as you cuddle up, but no surprisingly, it's like hugging a cloud!

A very warm, dry, soft, cushy cloud……..

Before you know it, you're drifting off. And as you do, you start to hear another steady thrumm alongside that of your heart.

Maybe “hear” is the wrong word, more “feel”. “Sense”? But it's there. And it stayed there for 3 more long years. But they didn't seem quite so long.

And Rei kept growing. And growing. And growing, until she barely fit in most buildings. Quite honestly you're glad it stopped there, it was getting harder and harder to explain to people why you had a 12 foot bunny doll in your house-

But you were glad. Glad that, no matter what happened, you'd always have a Beautiful, Cushy Companion in Rei.

[wisteriasymphony]

WIP WTHURSDAY - snagging from @bittersweetresilience because i want to join in on the fun too :33

Context: This is for a later chapter in The Warm Embrace of Shadow. To anybody not familiar with the AU, I apologize for the psychic damage incurred by Kagami being Like That. She's just a girl it's not her fault

The tea table was long enough that either of them would have to shout to be heard, meaning that any real and fruitful conversation was out of the question. While the binds around its wrists and ankles kept Adrien mostly restrained to his chair, there was enough slack in them to barely lift himself off and look over the assortment of tea cakes and towers of sweets over to Kagami, who was taking a sip of earl grey. Adrien's eyes went back on the deserts. If his previous experiences gave any indication, only ten percent (at best) would be eaten with the remaining ninety percent being tossed into the garbage. There was no telling what did or did not have chocolate in it, either, so any bite of the sugary stuff could trigger his gag reflex. Starving was clearly his only option here. “Good afternoon,” Kagami finally spoke, officially beginning the whole charade. She moved stiffly, rehearsedly, as if her chains were even shorter than Adrien’s own. “Your face has changed once more, I see. I understand it now. You are incomplete without your misery, so you must make it visible.” Adrien clicked his tongue, sneering “The story is that I broke my nose from falling down the stairs.” Kagami hummed in response. “What are lives if not a collection of stories?” He couldn’t tell if that was meant to be sympathetic or mocking. Not to mention how ridiculously trite it sounded. Adrien flicked his wrist—the chain snapped back and forth along with the movement, and yet it did not break. It was tempting to Cataclysm his restraints just to free himself, but Adrien was hoping that he would give Kagami reasons to hate him without having to rely on revealing himself as Chat Noir. After all, if Chat was still alive, it was only a matter of time before Ladybug tried to actually kill him. Adrien had every reason to believe she’d succeed in that, and while death was tempting, another meeting with that tyrant was not.  Speaking of omnipresent tyranny… "In our brief departures from one another, there was ample opportunity to reconvene with my mother, as you so... harshly requested," Kagami spoke, in that voice she always put on. "May it come to your attention that what it set in stone cannot be easily undone, not when the stonecarver refuses to put down the chisel." Adrien merely rolled his eyes, his chains clinking some more as he reluctantly went to pour himself a cup of his own tea. "Is your chair bolted to the floor too, Kagami?" was all he asked. Kagami's initial silence made it clear that, out of anything he could've said, he wasn't supposed to ask that.  "...A flea in a lidless jar will only jump to the height of the lip and no further. Such lids are only closed when the flea is not properly trained." "Just bring your chair closer, I don't want to have to yell over to you." Kagami stopped again. "...No."

No pressure towards anyone tagged! (And sorry to anybody if I retagged lol) @silliersiluriforme @isabugs @bakawitch @official-vampire-business :3

[kathbunny]

So on the discord there's a fake dating superhero au and I wrote some stuff for it

Basic lore first:

Maxim is a retired superhero who's a friend of VR-LA's, who investigates and unretires to try to save VR-LA under the belief he's been mind controlled

Vhas is a supervillain who's mostly just having fun, not really intentionally killing anybody. Just disregards the law and then steals or destroys something. He's got powers based on his voice, siren-like. People don't really know the full extent due to him mostly having fun, so their imaginations run wild.

VR-LA is a superhero who has realized the organization he worked for is evil after his entire team (the old crew) excluding him is declared dead after what was actually a kidnapping by some other supervillain caused by a betrayal from a team member (similar to canon, only MR-SN is actually dead). Him escaping and knowing the truth threatens both his organization and whatever plan is going on with his team.

Due to the above, VR-LA has to plan a way to avoid being killed or disappearing, so he asks Vhas to help him. His whole idea is that if he's a villain, with a paper trail, it'd be very obvious if he suddenly went missing after a fight with a hero (as they want him alive), and a trail would be demanded by the public and the government (especially due to his sudden changing of sides). And, if they fake his death, he'd have somebody who knows the truth in Vhas. Vhas is essentially the safest option for various reasons.

It will end in poly, that's the plan.

Below is what I wrote on the discord as a tidbit and a bit more! I edited some changes in too for those in the discord rereading!

VR-LA stepped into the dark building, an old warehouse that had been abandoned months ago. He tried to ignore the skittering of rats or movements in the shadows as he walked through, electricity sparking off his hands to give him light. It was barely enough, only letting him see silhouettes anywhere past a few feet away. He stopped at the center, spotting a shadowy figure sitting on a chair. "...Vhas." He greeted.

"Hey, mate." The figure, Vhas, returned, lounging in his chair like he wasn't talking to a hero that could slam him into the concrete, but instead to a friend in his own house. "Surprised you actually showed up alone, sparky. Thought this might be a trick."

"I don't lie when I say I need help." VR-LA said, clenching his fists. "You were the safest option. You avoid civilian harm, but you're powerful." Saying that felt like pulling on teeth.

"Am I now?" Vhas said, leaning forward slightly, eyes seeming to glint in the dark. "What do you need my help with though, sparky? Best not to keep me in the dark here, mate."

VR-LA gritted his teeth. "The organization I work for falsely claimed my team to be dead. They were kidnapped, they're alive." VR-LA said. "I know this, so I'm a target. I need protection and a place to hide while I investigate. And I need to be seen as a villain so that it's harder to just get rid of me."

Vhas chuckled, the sound eerie and slow. "Well, if you're going to get my help, you'll have to do it my way." He reached for something in his pocket and suddenly the warehouse was lit up with shitty colorful LED light strips. "Let's make this fun, 'ight, sparky?"

VR-LA had to stop himself from gritting his teeth at that. "Define your way here." He crossed his arms, trying to gather up at least a little bit of intimidating energy.

Vhas stood, flouncing his way over to VR-LA and circling as he spoke. "Well, you need a believable reason for why you're a villain now, mate, and you'll need to do real things to be seen as one."

"...I'm aware."

"So, I have a thought for the first one!" Vhas declared, stopping in front of VR-LA. "How about pretending to date, sparky? People love those sorts of stories, it'll spread like wildfire."

VR-LA wasn't fond of that, his frown intensifying.

"Ah, ah, before you say anything, I don't care about ya like that, I just think it'd be funny." Vhas said, waving his hand idly. "Plus, I wanna get something outta this too. My price is entertainment, and that's cheap. You don't even gotta do that much, just rob a few banks, vandalism. The works!"

"...fine then." VR-LA agreed.

Vhas put a hand out to shake, smirking.

"I'm still actively letting off electricity."

"...eh, I'm fine getting shocked." Vhas shrugged lazily.

VR-LA took his hand, perhaps more roughly than he should have, the shock going through Vhas's arm making him yelp.

[rius-cave]

You started appearing ALLLLL OVER my fyp! So I decided to ask a Q, (it's not a request btw but u can draw it if it motivates you.) Ahem, I kinda wanna see some Adam angst, why? Cause.. yes. Anywho I had a random idea of like, how would luci react to seeing Adam having a breakdown about his life? I mean I assume Adam might have some self hate and might question everything that is happening in his life right? So I wonder how luci would comfort Adam in said situation. (Also I tend to be the one answering questions for people since im also a artist and idk if i should post on this app- and so this is my first time ASKING so I'm really excited!! Your arts so good keep it up!)

*rubs my little sinner hands together* HO-HO! Welcome, friend! Thank you for asking! I love Adam angst I inject it into my bloodstream every day.

At first, Adam is just fucking pissed at EVERYTHING AND EVERYONE. Lucifer especially, of course. At first, he doesn't even take responsibility, of course. I'd like to think Adam would go through the five stages of grief basically lol. He's in denial, absolutely can't believe it, thinks he'll go back to heaven any second now. He's a prick, he doesn't take anybody's help and flips everyone off, saying he doesn't need any redemption. Then he gets even more angry, like I said, especially at Luci, he's whining and kicking and blaming everyone for his destiny. Then he finally accepts either having a deal with Lucifer, or going to the hotel to try to find some communication with heaven so they can get him out of there. That doesn't work of course, so now his only option is to try and get redeemed. Oh the irony. But then, at night, when no one's looking, he just fucking stands there and thinks about everything that's happened to him. Yes, he is still angry and blames everyone else, but the thought that maybe, just maybe, this might all be his fault, is starting to creep into him. This makes him depressed to no end, but he tries to hide it from the rest of the hotel.

This is when Lucifer notices that he's going through a bad time, and yes, he scolds him some more. But also I think he'd try to get a page from his daughter's book and, begrudgingly, tries to cheer him up and encourage him to give redemption a real try (he was only half assing it until then). He tries to talk to him about the time they spent in Eden, before Lilith was even created. I like to think they had a little bit of a friendship back then, or at least, Lucifer could see some positive attributes in him from afar. He tells him that he just needs to try, and listen, and that soon, he'll understand why these sinners have formed such a tightly bonded family.

Obviously he doesn't exactly change his ways right away. It takes time, effort, a lot of patience, but he starts seeing how caring, fun and good everyone really is. He doesn't realize it, but he wants some of that too, even if he might relapse again and again.