#i waited all week for this skin just to make this
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classyrbf · 3 days ago
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SHE'S A SUCCUBUS! — CHOSO KAMO
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SYNOPSIS...as a sex demon, she can always sense the horny virgin boy who’s dying to lose his virginity
INFO...choso x succubus!reader, sub!choso, virgin!choso, somnophilia, riding, overstim, creampie, oral (m!receiving and f!receiving), slight ass eating, cum eating, doggy, squirting, choso is super needy and eager, not proofread
OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated
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Choso always felt left out when his friend would constantly talk about all the girls they’ve been with, all the experiences they had and what crazy shit they always got into. He’d just sit there, silent. He couldn’t relate to them not one bit. The closest he’s ever to having sex is his right hand or a sex toy. No girl ever looked his way, and his confidence was crushed. They’d only go after his friends, practically drooling over them. Not one of them spared a glance towards Choso.
He was begging to lose his virginity, dying to know what real pussy felt like, how soft tits felt in his hands or even some ass. God, don’t even get him started on wondering what it feels like to receive head. His friends swear it’s the best thing ever as long as the girl knows what she’s doing. He always watches porn, the women on their knees, slobbering all over the man dick like it was some divine dessert. He loved watching the way their pussies wrapped around the mans dick, just imagining how wet and warm it is. He was a lost cause. At this point, he was ready to pay someone to take his virginity. Literally.
And just like any other night, he goes back home, ready to fuck his fist to another average porn video before dozing off to sleep. He’s been extremely horny lately, more than usual and he can’t understand why. Not to mention the wet dreams he’s been having, waking up to cum in his pants like he’s a damn teenager. He doesn’t know what’s wrong with him, feeling the need to cum more and more everyday.
Hours later, he’s fast asleep, tossing and turning as he has another wet dream of someone riding him. He can’t make out her face, but it feels so damn real. Everything does. Even her moans and the weight on top of him. “Mmm,” he hums. His brows furrow. He can even hear the sound of skin on skin. His entire body feels like it’s on fire right now, like he’s been hit with some sort of sex pollen. It’s more intense than ever.
Little does he know it’s not a wet dream, no, it’s you. The succubus who’s been watching him for weeks, feeling his urgency to cum, to lose his virginity. He’s summoned you without even realizing. And now you were riding him, gliding your wet pussy up and down his aching cock while he slept, waiting for the moment he wakes up and realizes he’s no longer a virgin. He twists and turns when you run your clawed nails down his pale skin, smiling at the way he moans and whimpers in his sleep.
Choso couldn’t take this overwhelming feeling anymore, forcing himself to wake up, prying his tired eyes open. But the feeling doesn’t stop. The sounds don’t stop. And certainly the woman is his dreams doesnt disappear when he opens his eyes. “Wha—ah—what? Who…? Oh fuck!” He rasps, eyes darting around the room and over your naked body. “What the fuck? Oh my goddd.” As confused and scared as he is right now, he can’t escape the pleasure coursing through him right now.
“Shhh, shhh, just let me make you feel good. You’ve been dying for this haven’t you? I’m here to give you exactly what you want.” You slightly lean back, spreading your legs to let him get a clear view of the way your pussy sucks his cock in.
He looks at you with awe and confusion, but he can’t help but give in, moaning so sweetly when you fully sink down. “Who…who are you?” He gasps, eyes widen when you clench your pussy around him.
“I know when cute virgins like you wanna lose their virginity. You summoned me, accidentally. You’ve been so worked up lately, huh? Well,” you smile, “that was because of me.” His cock twitches inside of you, your hips bouncing faster and harder, watching the way he mouth falls open.
“Fuck, fuck! It’s feels so good,” he heaves, breathing heavily. His cheeks dusted a light pink. “I don’t wanna cum just yet, please slow down. Please, please—nnghhh, fuckkkk.” Choso didn’t stand a chance, shooting sticky ropes of cum into your pussy, his entire body quivering with how intense his orgasm was. “Please, slow down—ah, oh my god. It feels too good—” His eyes rolled into the back of his head as you kept fucking him.
“I’ll keep fucking you till there’s nothing left.” You lean forward, pressing your chest against his, placing your lips on his while you kiss him with such fervor, with such sloppiness. His hands reach down, gripping the plush flesh of your ass. He swears he’s in heaven right now. This can’t be real. No way a sex demon was taking his virginity right now. His dick was so sensitive, but still so hard. He knew he had so much cum left, the only thoughts he had were to fill you up over and over until it was dripping out.
He felt like he was losing his mind, fucking him so hard, creating a sloppy mess where you two met just so you can get him to cum again. Your devilish yet sweet giggles send chills up his spine and straight down to his already throbbing dick. With labored breaths, and his heart rattling against his rib cage, he already knows he’s going to cum again. So soon. “Come don’t hold back on me. I want it all,” you growl in his ear. “I’ll do whatever it takes to empty you dry and fuck you stupid.”
His trembling fingers grip onto your ass harder as he cries out, broken moans swallowed by your kisses and he can’t help but cum again, filling up your tight pussy to the brim. You pull away from the heated kiss looking at the way his hazy eyes stare up at you with such desperation. You halt the movement of your hips and get up from his lap. “No, no, wait. Where are you going?! Please, keep fucking me.” He sits up, watching you get on your knees. Poor thing looks like he’s almost about to cry.
And now he can get a real good view of you. The tail that swayed around and the small little horns that pointed from the top of your head. You really were a sex demon. Your hand took a firm grip on his throbbing cock, his tip leaking like it was begging you to make it cum again. “I can see your thoughts. Your nasty little thoughts.” You run a long stripe from his balls all the way to his tip, licking the excess cum off. Your tongue was freakishly long, but god did it feel so good on him. You spit on his cock, massaging it in as you stroke him, moving your hand in circular motions that make his hips jump. “Say it. I know what you’re thinking.” Your lips curl into a smirk, running the pad of your thumb over his slit.
“Put…put your mouth on it, please,” he says barely above a whisper, too shocked to even form proper words.
“Louder.” You massage his balls with your free hand, earning a guttural groan from him.
“Please, put your mouth on it! Fuck, I wanna know how good it feels!” His lip quivers, his breathing quickening the closer your lips get.
“Good boy.” You smile, darting your tongue out and wrapping it around the base of his cock, swirling it around the head before you take him in your mouth. You stare at him through thick lashes, bobbing your head up and down his thick shaft, spit spilling from the corners of your mouth. Glug, glug, glug.
The sound of you choking on his dick was like music to his hears, taking his all the way down your throat with no problem. How is he supposed to keep up? His brain is fried and his body already feels so weak from cumming two times in a row. But he can’t stop. It’s like you’ve put some kind of spell on him to make him want more. “Shit, I’m all the way in,” he gasps, fall back onto the pillows. You pull him out of your throat, string of saliva connect from your lips to his cock as you continue stroking him. You were so messy, so nasty, but he loved it so fucking much because this is always how he’d picture it.
You spit back on his cock before taking him down your throat again without warning. “Oh my—fuck me, I’m gonna fucking cum again!” He whimpers. His body jolts and his abs tense up at the sensation, pleasure shooting through his body like electricity. He’s so sensitive he can’t help it. His hips buck up into your mouth and next thing he knows, he’s cumming down your throat. “Nnngh shit!” He groans, each orgasm more intense than the last. It’s like as time goes on, he can’t help but get more horny, more greedy.
Within seconds he’s pulling you off his dick on bending you over, pulling your ass in the air. “I’m sorry, I can’t stop, I can’t stop, I can’t,” he’s muttering to himself, sweat dripping down his body. He pushes every inch into you with such ease, like your pussy was made for him. “Feels so good, feels so good I can’t stop stop,” he cries, rummaging his hips into you, fucking hard and fast.
“You’re learning so quickly.” You smile from below him, pushing your ass back against his hips. He watches the way your ass bounces back on his dick and he becomes mesmerized. “That’s it! Fuck me harder. Show me how badly you wanna cum in my pussy again,” you giggle.
Choso pushes your head into the mattress, broken moans falling from his lips. “I need it so badly, so fucking badly.” Your pussy grips him like a vice and he hisses at the tempting feeling.
“Make me squirt all over your cock! Come on, fuck me like you mean it!” You grip the sheets below you, feeling his swollen head press against your sweet spot over and over with each grueling thrust. Upon hearing your words, Choso remembers all those videos he’s watching of girls squirting, and to make you squirt just because of him makes his brain fuzzy. He keeps the same pace, huffing and panting when your pussy grows tighter. “Yes! Yes!” You laugh, sighing in relief when he pulls out and clear liquid shoots from your pussy, coating his cock and sheets.
His eyebrows raise in amazement. “Holy fuck,” he watches the way your pussy leaks before urgently ramming his cock back inside of you. “Do it again. Squirt all over me again! Please! It’s so fucking hot!” He begs as he pounds your pussy like his life depends on it. “Wanna watch you—nnngh—squirt again!”
As if on cue, your pushy gushes around him again, soaking his thighs and his cock and just the sight of it makes him cum so hard he’s toppling over you. “Fuck! I’m cumming!” He thrusts deep inside of you, making sure not to waste even a drop. “Yes, yes!” He huffs, bucking his hips. “I need to taste you, need to fucking—mmm.” He drops to his knees, pulling your ass back against his face while his tongue slurps every drop his cum and your juices, licking through your sloppy folds and sucking on your clit.
“Eager little thing, aren’t you? Such a good, good boy.” You praise, reaching behind you, taking a fistful of his hair and pushing his face deeper into your cunt. His moans at your taste, his free hand reaching down to stroke his swollen and sensitive cock. He moves his tongue up and down, running back and forth between your clit and your ass, and back down to your hole. You quickly pull him away before sitting up.
“Did I do something wrong? Why’d you stop?” He looks at with sad eyes.
“You’re done.” You look down at his cock.
“No, no, I’m not. I promise I still have more. Just keep fucking me, let me eat your pussy or something! Don’t leave!” He pouts, watching you crawl towards him.
“As much as I’d like to keep playing with you, you’re all out of cum, pretty boy.” You smirk. “I’ve got other desperate virgins like you to attend to.” You ghost your lips over his and Choso leans in for a kiss but you pull back from him. “You’re welcome.”
You disappear into a dark corner in his room, like you faded away into it. He runs to turn on his light and sees you’re completely gone. He’s at a loss for words, standing in the middle of his room completely naked. He looks towards his bed, seeing the wet spots you had left. So it was real? No? Yes? He didn’t know what to believe. He accidentally summoned a sex demon to take his virginity. If only he could do it again.
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quarterlifekitty · 3 days ago
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Just some more thoughts on König with a clingy girl.
He’s not used to physical intimacy by any means. He’s paid for girls plenty of times, have a few flings during different leaves, but never anything sweet. Never a girlfriend.
Before you even get together, you’re clingy. You like hugs. You like leaning on him when you’re sat next to each other, falling asleep on him. Which makes him fall in love so quickly, by the way. He’s addicted to feeling you warm on his skin.
And when he does manage to sweet talk his way into the boyfriend position? He melts under every crumb of affection. Every kiss to the cheek, every nuzzle, every time you park yourself in his lap.
Man is a death grip hand-holder. His height makes him hard to lose in crowds, but he still doesn’t want to be separated. Letting go of your hand is literally like his last resort.
And let it be said. This man wants to fuck you with as much skin to skin contact as possible. Sure, he’ll never say no to a quickie, but his favorite type of sex is when you’re both completely bare and have space to get in every position imaginable. He likes you pressed completely against him— chest to chest if possible, maybe back to chest (especially if a full length mirror is involved).
And then there’s the emotional clinging. He’s very insecure about the idea of wanting you more than you want him, so it always makes him so happy when you’re the one texting, calling, or just coming into the same room as him to hang out. He loves when you contact him for no reason at all— just to check on him. One time when he asked why you called, you said “I just wanted to hear your voice,” and he almost fainted from how giddy it made him. And he doesn’t have so much going on besides work, so he really doesn’t mind if you’re the type to want to spend every hour of every day with him.
The hardest fucking you ever got from König was a few weeks after you first moved in together. He had to be on base for the day, and you had a day off. You meet him at the door— you headed there as soon as you heard the car— and wrap him up in an embrace that he gladly returns.
“So, leibling, what did you do all day today?”
“I waited for you to come home,” you say absentmindedly, just rubbing his back and pressing your cheek to his chest. You don’t notice how he almost starts trembling from your words, his heart feeling like it’s about to burst.
He needs to be inside you— can barely hold it together enough to carry you to bed like a fucking caveman. Starts thinking you need something else to cling to when he’s away… something that can cling to him when he comes home. A baby would suit you both very nicely, yeah?
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housederiva · 2 days ago
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Here's every version of the letter the Inquisitor gets from their LI plus Varric (which didn't make me cry at all)
If your Inky didn't romance anyone:
Inquisitor, Greetings from miserable, rainy Minrathous! (Don't tell Dorian I called it that.) The rotten weather here is making me nostalgic for Skyhold. The mountains were freezing, but at least the air didn't smell like wet garbage. We'll have to get in another game of Wicked Grace, soon. Harding picked up the trail again. I'd tell you not to worry, but I know how useless that is. Instead, I'll just say: I've got a great team on this. Neve could stare down the Maker, and wait until you meet Rook. He's/She's/They're a natural: Smart, resourceful, completely unpredictable. You'd like him/her/them, as long as you don't try to beat him/her/them at cards. Chuckles'll never know what hit him. I'll write again once we have something solid for you. Drinks at the Hanged Man are on me when this is over. Take care of yourself. Varric
Blackwall:
My love, You have summoned me to Minrathous, and I will answer your call, as soon as responsibilities here in the South allow. I have missed being by your side. Will these troubles be the last we face? The world seems always to conspire, through duty or disaster, to pull you away from me. I do not resent it. You are dedicated to purposes far larger and more significant than myself. I hope you do not think me a fool for hoping that one day, your only concern will be the color you wish our walls to be painted, or the flowers we will plant beside our gate. I'm partial to carnations. Yours always, Thom
Cassandra:
My love, We are no strangers to duty, or the separation it demands of us. You head for Tevinter, and though I want to go with you, there is work we both must do. I will not falter in the tasks that wait before me and I pray my actions, in whatever measure they can, will keep you safe. The others see only confidence in my resolve, but you have always known more than mere appearance. I confess to you, and you alone, that I am afraid. I'm afraid of what may happen, that Thedas will face such turmoil as it did before. I know not what awaits us. Yet even in the face of uncertainty, there are two things I cannot doubt and never will. The first is that our paths are never separated long. That I will find you at my side when I need you, as you will find me at yours. I will play my part in this and follow as soon as I can. The second thing I never doubt is you. Whatever lies before you, trust yourself. Trust your heart as I trust it. It will not lead you astray. Yours, Cassandra
Cullen:
The top of the letter has been punctured by small, sharp teeth, leaving most of a beloved name and a few sentences chewed to read. I fear the puppy started on this letter shortly after I did. I'd start over, but I must send this tonight if it's to reach you. Matters are settled here and I make for Tevinter as soon as possible. I almost believed chaos might spare us this time. I can't say I wished to see Minrathous before now, but I am eager to see you. I long to see your face and know that you are all right. You are I've There's I wish I was better at putting into writing all that's in my mind. For now, simply know that I love you. It is the most cherished constant of my life. The days ahead will not be easy. I know there's much you carry, more than many realize. But whatever you must face, you will not meet it alone. You have my sword, my counsel, my - I could write this list forever when all I mean to say is this - Whatever you need of me, I am yours. Cullen
Dorian:
Amatus, I'm writing. Again. Yes, the sending crystals still work and yes, you'll be in Minrathous in a few short weeks. But a letter, written in blind longing, is real. It can be touched, and it can be held, when ink and paper must substitute for your skin on mine and my breath in your ear. I used to scoff at frequent declarations of affection. Trite, I thought. Save them for rare and precious moments. But time and love are no longer things I care to squander, especially not as we race again toward calamity. And so, in each of these fleeting, ephemeral seconds, I will tell you that I love you. Whether penned or spoken, or conveyed by glance or action, I love you. In this moment, and in all the moments to come, for as long as they do, I love you. I will find you soon. Yours, Dorian
Iron Bull
Hey, Kadan, Not the first time we've marched toward different battles. I know you're keeping the crap from catching fire up in Tevinter. Wish I could be there, but I'll make sure there's a world for you to come back to when you're done dealing with crazy vints and stupid Antaam and whatever other crap Solas kicked up. (Shit, the Antaam. Remember when I was worried what would happen if I went tal-vashoth? That right there!) I know you're gonna be careful, and you've got Morrigan there. Just take care of yourself. If anything happens to you, I'm going to have to take Krem and the Chargers and stomp across all of Tevinter to come get you. It'll be a whole thing, and you know it'll upset Dorian. Being apart from you made me realize something else. I spent so long being whatever the Ben-Hassrath wanted me to be. An investigator. An agent. A mercenary sending reports. These past years, since the Inquisition ended, I've been able to just be what I want to be. And what I really want to be is yours. I like the person I am when I'm with you. So come back safe. Love, The signature appears to be a stylized rendering of the Iron Bull's head.
Josephine:
My Dearest Lord/Lady, I have spoken to friends in Minrathous. They offer us their hospitality, not to mention shelter from the worst intrigues of the Archon's Palace. While you're well acquainted with the roving eyes of grand courts, please take care. Tevinter's regard can be the oldest and cruelest of them all. The family writes the weather back home is beautiful. I do miss our quiet times together. There is a question I've wanted to ask you for so long. I would like to pretend I have been busy, or it was not the proper time. But, if I am being honest, I only waited because I have been afraid of choosing a poor moment. Please, let me make a promise to you here. When we return to Antiva, I will ask you, on the steps of the estate, if you will do me a great honor. And I dream you will say yes. Always yours, Josephine Postscript: I cannot believe it nearly slipped my mind. Yvette and Lord Otranto send their best wishes, and hope to see us back home in time to welcome their third child.
Sera:
(An artistically doodled journal page presumably from the Inquisitor's partner, Sera.) Keep this as close as I need you. (A drawing of a pile of flowers, with lines like it's moving, an arrow pointing to it labeled "us.") - North again, Mini-wrathus still stuck up its own pucker. - Magiturds are scared of us. They don't even know. - We work with Maevaris, right? She's wow. - So many Friends! Jennies in all the walls! - We kill him this time. He took from us twice! (A drawing of a cracked egg scribbled out, with "can't even joke" in letters that tore the page.) - Still thinking of you sideways. - Never mind the Dalish, here's the Veil Jumpers! Tempest-kin! (A drawing of a tall, shorthaired elf (Sera?) and Irelin brandishing two fingers, backflipping as a tree explodes in runes.) - The memory thing makes my head spin. If that Rook doesn't take it, throw it out. - Tell Morrigan ppbbth! for me. - I'll also tell her ppbbth! She knows why. - Tell them to Stripe. Him. Up. I wanted more books. (More heavy scribbles that tear.) - You meet; I'll keep you safe. Then I'm your time off, and you're my time on. (The last section has different colored inks, like Sera has returned to it several times.) New naked names: -Sweet-tits (scribbled out) -Bestest (scribbled out) -Loverly (scribbled out) -Lovey (scribbled out) -My-for-always-and-ever - name's not too long, time's too short. -But "Sweet-tits," though (scribbled out)
Solas:
Vhenan, I do not know if you will see these words. My ritual is ready and will soon be set in motion. Perhaps when you read this the world will be as it once was, and you will see why all I did was necessary. I cannot ask your forgiveness, but I hope you come to understand. That night in Crestwood, when I shared the truth about your vallaslin... you do not know how close I came to breaking. I could have shared the truth, or even put my plans aside and simply stayed with you as Solas... as I wanted. I regret the pain I caused you. What I feel for you will never change. The note is unsigned, but the handwriting is Solas'.
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syngirl · 3 days ago
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I think it says way too much about me that this is what got me to write in French again. Read the images clockwise from the left
He had worn many an awkward costume for a mission. Yet it wasn't the South American cabin boy, the Japanese general or even the medieval armor that bothered him the most. It was simply himself, but dressed in a skirt, blouse and cardigan, that stirred his mind. Tintin was normally a fairly analytical person, his inner voice tirelessly typing whenever he wasn’t, but now, when he needed it more than ever, it was silent. In this logical void that crossdressing had created, his thoughts, fond of connections, only managed to make one: the times he had already had the same feeling. With equal parts horror, fascination and catharsis, he thought about that dense and heavy warmth that lined his mind. How many times it had appeared without ever being recognized. His love of marbles when he was a kid, motivated not by the simulacrum of gambling that so captivated his classmates, but by a fascination with his mother’s jewelry that he could only respond to through this pastime suitable for a boy. His intense desire to write a report on feminist groups in Brussels, a desire which was blocked by an unusual social malaise. His meeting with his physician, who had diagnosed him with a testosterone deficiency as indicated by his lack of body hair and velvety skin. 
“There are treatments for your condition you know, your appearance must be horribly embarrassing for a man your age.” the doctor reassured him.
Yet he never felt any need to “cure” his condition. He admires himself in the mirror, and has to admit that this appearance is at the very least pragmatic, just the clothes are enough to pass for the new secretary of the Syldavian embassy. He pets Snowy to calm down, he too seems captivated by his master's appearance. Tintin always had a suspicion that his dog knew more than him, too bad he couldn't express it. 
The Captain waits for him at the entrance to the locker room, and cannot suppress a sailor's whistle at his appearance. Tintin blushes, obviously, but he takes the time to contemplate his friend. He knows that their relationship drew its strength from their differences, but this was the first time he considered the physical dimension. This strong, bearded and rough old sailor is a model of male morphology, unlike him. There is little time for anatomical analysis though, the political issue is the immediate priority. However, when boarding the streetcar, a striking observation forms in the reporter's mind: he prefers his immediate feminine appearance to a masculine ideal.
Blistering Barnacles! This illiterate postman has once again delivered the Cutts’s rubbish to us!
It is rather the Captain who is illiterate, for he did not notice that the few women's magazines he had in his hands were addressed not to Miss Margaret Cutts, but indeed Tintin. The Syldavian diplomatic crisis resolved, he returned with Snowy to his library in Moulinsart to bury himself in the pile of books, dissertations and articles that he accumulated on his desk, a necessary relaxation at the end of any adventure. Tintin is hardly picky with his reading choices, and so in the middle of the mountain of political, historical, geographical and linguistic literature essential to his journalism, there were Miss Cutts’s girls’ magazines which were found in the Moulinsart mailbox. The first evening of his reading period was dedicated to finally reading these rags so innocuous but so threatening. The very next day he subscribed to all the publishers he could find before making a trip to town to obtain more serious literature. The following week, he put on his best feminine voice to order clothes over the phone. 
He does not yet have a real mental conception of this desire within him, he simply responds to a joy that is just as, if not more fundamental than a successful report or a resolved adventure. Fortunately for him, there is no question of taming capricious sources or risking an international incident. All he has to do is put on red striped sports shorts and a matching tank top, then admire himself in the mirror he had installed in his room. His fingers run through his flowing hair, which now reaches his shoulders. For as much as his quiff was a recognized aspect of his public image, the searing synthesis of resentments for his appearance that he had carried out had come to the same conclusion as his marbles. He didn't like the quiff on its own as much as it was a substitute for the hairstyle he never had. The symptom of a series of trying events that he had never treated out of contempt for the barber. Slightly trendy hair like he has now may be less memorable, but it's who he really is. He takes Snowy and holds him at eye level. He licks his cheeks happily, prompting an even wider smile from his owner. 
The first time he left his room wearing his new wardrobe, he had done everything not to attract the attention of his friends. Now he exits through the main entrance, his posture tall, his expression confident. Haddock looks up from his newspaper in emphatic astonishment
What goes on Tintin? You only needed to disguise yourself as a lady once, but this is the third time you've gone out like this!
Tintin, hand on hip, only responds with a flirtatious smile. He walks into the hall, but the cavernous acoustics of the mansion allow him to hear the Captain speaking to Nestor.
I swear, since she, sorry, he put on that skirt, something has come over this kid. I adore him Nestor, he is my anchor and so much more,, but I no longer know how to approach him. I worry about him and his loneliness, but at the same time I have the impression of witnessing the birth of something big in him.
Change is the only constant, sir.
Tintin listens closer
I think he who spent his whole life sailing on a lake just discovered the ocean Nestor. 
A new whirlwind of emotion seizes Tintin. Not just the Captain's unusually touching words, but his mistake. A truth found in Whiskey no doubt. She. Steps becoming lighter and more assertive, he or she heads towards Professor Calculus’s garden, their favorite place to meditate, contemplate and sunbathe. He is there, still pruning his roses when he notices the visitor
Good day madam! He exclaims.
They lie down on the grass, her well-groomed skin exposed to the sensations of spring. She. Madam. It was obvious, a truth that she had continued to deny. Not anymore. Under the shade of the rose bushes, she had found the solution to this riddle. 
It was always helpful to have a renowned scientist in your social circle. It took him a few weeks to come to terms with his friend's real identity, not out of social rejection, simply because he sincerely believed that the real change was abandoning a career in journalism to go play tennis. Once he understood, the Professor called a Danish medical institute that he had learned of during a conference, and they accepted the new patient. Her papers, but above all, her loved ones call her Justine. The psychological reality clarified, her condition was no longer a defect, but an asset. She would be a perfect candidate, with minimal treatment required. A few prescriptions and a year later, she really needed to wear a bra, among many other changes..
 It wasn’t just her physical appearance that was important, of course. She spent long hours in the living room chatting with Haddock, Snowy asleep on her lap. They discussed all the things they had never known how to tell each other, from Haddock's difficult childhood, to Justine's regret for her colonialist journalism, the Captain's worst years at sea, then the trauma she experienced from her consecutive adventures. Haddock admitted that he was homosexual, and that his affection for Justine extended to that dimension. He knew it wasn't appropriate, but was also too upset to admit it. Justine has no romantic interest, but thanked the Captain for always loving her for who she is.
 Haddock wasn't the only one opened up by Justine's transformation. It was with great nervousness that she had sent a letter to Tchang going in depth about her thoughts and feelings. They managed to connect an international line, and the phone bill the following month nearly gave the Captain a heart attack. Despite their distance, Tchang had always been her greatest confidant, and the insights he provided for her were immense. He once spent an entire evening reading lines of Tao poetry and discussing them with her, finding solace in their reflections on inner peace beyond gender and the material world. There was also plenty of giggling and enjoying each others’ company. He hinted he might move to Europe for further education, and she could not be happier about it.
 Most surprising of renewed relationships turned out to be the Castafiore. She proved to be much more comfortable with other women, and thus was incredibly generous and wise towards the unknowns of her new protégé. It took a few rough months, but thanks to the hairdressers, tailors, etiquette teachers and even just the social environments recommended by the singer, Justine had made up for the years she hadn't lived as herself.
She’s a little anxious, but she knows she’s ready. Trendy red skirt, flattering sweater, flirty necklace and armband, she is exactly who she wants to be, and the confidence she feels is palpable. She tightens her ponytail, it's now 11 o'clock sharp. She enters the office of Gérard Pelletier, her first lead in a story of questionable aerial activity in the Canadian Arctic. The stocky man looks at her. An amiable smile appears.
“Miss Justine, a pleasure to meet you!”
The anticipation of Justine's first adventure is mind-boggling.
“Smile for the camera!”
Justine, in a vain mood, wonders which is more dazzling, the flash, or her? She is right to think so. The bouffant golden hair, the sparkling eyes, the magnetic smile, her picturesque silhouette, all dressed in a low-cut mini dress and matching high heels in “blizzard” white, a journalist's portrait has rarely been so stylish. Haddock made fun of her friend a little, asking her if it was a photo session for an international scandal or a gossip column in Paris-Match. Justine is not naive, she knows just as well that such a getup is inappropriate for the arrest of a group of airborne polar mercenaries led by Dr. Müller, which is why the high fashion shoot would be a whole small black and white box at the end of the article. The real attraction was the original photo, which would go into Justine's private possession. 
Of course, it's not all flattering photos, Justine's new life had its own challenges. It's difficult to be taken seriously by ne'er-do-wells when you're an attractive young woman, especially when your very existence is a known story and a bit of a scandal in its own right. Fortunately, all this is minimized by Justine's experience with these types of folks, and the Captain's promise to rough up those who wouldn’t keep their mouths shut. Despite the intense atmosphere of the studio, Justine is calm. The few old photos of her that exist are so formal, so uncomfortable. Justine is beautiful, and she will flaunt it, even if it means indulging her unscrupulous editor to have professional risqué photographs taken of her.
So many pleasantries at this Polynesian villa, for a panorama of the elite is present at this party, their tailored jackets and dresses replaced by ridiculous Hawaiian shorts and swimsuits as garish as they are diminutive. The relaxed atmosphere hides the shared truth: they are all criminals, celebrating their host Armando Biancana's ingenious plan, a revolution in the activities of European organized crime. French, Italians, Irish, English, Greeks, Spanish, Turks, Georgians, Bordurians, all will send their money to one of Biancana’s many Pacific islands, thus increasing their profits and Armando’s. So far from the authorities, he will be invulnerable. Sicily, the south, then all of Italy will bow to his financial power. With victory assured, prosecco is abundant on the idyllic beach. 
The hole in the plan is the only guest present who doesn't seem ecstatic. Unlike all the other women present, she is not dressed in a pop art atrocity, but a sky blue one-piece swimsuit of distinguished elegance. With wine at her lips, lying parallel to the pool, her shapely thighs invite eager glances from almost everyone present, regardless of gender. Who is this looker? No one dares to ask her.
A subtle peripheral glance to check that there are no more admirers, she draws a pistol from her handbag and turns towards the crowd. Both her glare and her gun are aimed at Armando.
“Hands up!”
Being all professional criminals, a single armed woman shouldn't be so intimidating, but they are also rather drunk, and the leader, Armando is sobbing. It was she who had determined his place of residence, it was she who had stolen these important documents, it was she who had sent the letter suggesting this reception. The Interpol speedboats are rushing towards the beach, his empire has foundered. All because of that stupid girl with her nose in his business.
The criminals are now on their way to the cellular plane to Paris, and there is only Justine, the Thompsons and a few police officers still on the beach. 
“Miss Justine, this arrest was exquisitely beautiful.”
“I would even say more, this arrest was of a bequisitely exutiful.”
A smile forms on her face, ah those Thompsons. 
“We are no longer needed for the operation, our boat will leave soon.”
They both pull on their collars, both soaked with sweat.
“We should have learned our lesson after Khemed Thompson.”
“I would even say more, we should have learned our khesson after Lemed Thomson.”
Justine allowed a giggle.
“Do what you have to do, given I’m appropriately dressed, I have something left  to do here.”
She waves them goodbye, and can't help but laugh again when they both trip over the same seaweed. It is at this same moment that Snowy comes out of his hiding place, happy to run on the sand. Justine kneels next to him.
“Do you want to enjoy the tropics, my dear Snowy?”
He barks to affirm, receiving pets from her.
"Me too"
With bare feet, a bathing suit glistening in the sun and her hair reaching the middle of her back, she walks towards the water, as turquoise as her outfit. It’s been 10 years since she last swam for fun. 10 years since she could allow herself to be happy. Besides the adventure and the attention, the real journey she experienced was to relearn how to live without limits. That she no longer needed to stop herself from these things that she had thought impossible. Her friends, her fashion, her appearance, her hobbies, her social life, all rediscovered with her true identity. Compared to these radical transformations, there is little practical importance to recreational swimming. Right now it is simply a conclusion. There would always be pitfalls in her life, but none as big as the lie that had imprisoned her. The days of doing so much without distinction are over. She dives beneath the waves and admires her weightless self, her body perfect in the sunlight. A wave of euphoria takes hold of her. This simple observation is worth more than walking on the moon. 
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Girl Tintin
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felibrary · 3 days ago
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"i love you, i'm sorry"
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pairing: aventurine x reader (gender neutral)
synopsis: aventurine doesn’t know how to handle people being affectionate to him. so eventually, just as everyone leaves him, he’s become the one who leaves the person he cherishes the most—you—before you’re able to leave him first. so then, why is he now in front of your home, asking for another chance?
wordcount: 1.2k | content & warnings: unestablished relationship, situationship 101, aven has commitment issues (surprise), angst if you squint, hurt/comfort , mentions of aven's past (kind of) ; ficlet
tags: @eccentric-planet HERE IT ISSSS!!! (after waiting for like a week or so oops)
author's note: i wrote like half of this during biology, history and french class LMFAO
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in his world, love leaves behind traces. 
be it dejection that gnaws at him, and wraps his heart in sorrow or your lips that press against him, finding home in his scarred skin. all of the little things that shaped him into being—they all track back to you.  
gradually, over time, with every gesture of affection exchanged, he fell. his once sleepless nights were cured by lying beside you, and eventually, he peacefully dozed off. that is until morning arrived, the sun greeting him as her rays seeped through the curtains, which made him rise.
alas, bathing in bliss only lasted for so long. the love that streamed through his veins and was pumped into his heart, was daring to spill; aventurine knew that confessing his love to you would come with its consequences. there were rules he set up for himself, but after all, he is no more than a pathological sinner—an individual long forsaken by the gods that reign this world—a helpless soul.
despite harboring feelings for you, he kept those blooming emotions to himself; confined in the depths of his heart. 
so as much as he loved you, it hurt just as much to let you go; leave you behind with no words that offered an explanation for his leaving. 
aventurine’s foundation was built upon being alone—disappearing without leaving a trace has always been in his nature. having to leave and being left behind was nothing new. he was a natural.
eventually, the traces you left behind, etched into his very being, washed away.
kakavasha was a lonely child. the word company has always felt foreign on his tongue, at least when he had to say it aloud in a language other than his own.
presumably, that’s why he felt strangely weak in your hold. how you always persistently, almost desperately, buried your nails into his skin and held him tight—not wanting to let go as if you knew that he’d leave one day; silently slip from your grasp.
it was to be expected that you wouldn’t reach out anymore—he made you leave. 
(it’s for the better he thinks. after all, if you would’ve marched further into his heart you would’ve seen what was hidden in the depths of it—someone with no strong ambitions, and there’d be no point of return. aventurine wouldn’t make a good lover, he’s both too selfish and selfless no in between.)
there hasn’t ever been a verbal confirmation that the two of you were in a relationship. everyone around him, including you just assumed that the two of you were together
but he can’t blame them. all the spare items in his apartment, ranging from a mere toothbrush to items like skincare or using the same candles as you, that’d help you feel more at home. arriving at work together and subtly flirting in the elevator when others were around or kissing in the copy room, weren’t casual things that friends did.
aventurine thought it was easier that way, simply because the thought of putting labels on your relationship felt strange. to him, it felt like a heavy shackle bound to his feet, preventing him from being free.
so why is he now standing at your front door, waiting like a prisoner on death row for their judgment to come?
there’s a faint squeak as you open the door and aventurine shoves his left hand into the pocket of his coat, fiddling with the flower-shop bill. 
before aventurine knows it; and can fully comprehend the solemnity of the situation, you stand in front of him, as beautiful as ever.
“hi,” aventurine breathes out, and only now does he realize how much he’s missed seeing you. instead of answering your gaze drifts over his figure and his surroundings.
he feels hot under your watchful gaze, his body suddenly heating up, and clothes sickly sticking to his skin. “so? what’s your business?” your eyes land on the bouquet of lilies and gardenias he's gripping tightly,  slightly wrinkling the wrapping paper by doing so. 
countless thoughts are running through his head. may i come in? can we talk? i wanted to apologi—
“i love you, i’m sorry.”
his voice croaks and suddenly he feels small. the gut-wrenching feeling of fear that stirred in his stomach whenever you were around made him vulnerable and submissive. it made him bolder—more reckless with his way of words. they twisted and twirled on his tongue, and ultimately something else slipped out. (the truth)
the dismissive sound you make crawls into aventurine’s ears like a parasite creeping on his skin, causing him pain. “you say that after playing a game of push-and-pull with me? aventurine do you hear yourself?” you huff laughingly. “don’t do this to me. i can’t go through this once again,” you express with bitterness in your voice. “you’ll just hurt the both of us.” your tone is meek, but aventurine can hear the strain in your voice and he feels his stomach drop.
he exhales and musters the courage to say something. “i know that this is sudden, moreover, i know that i’ve been beyond horrible to you,” aventurine admits, and he swallows. “i want to apologize. my first apology is that i never apologized sooner.” he diverts his gaze to the ground, head facing the floor like a prisoner being escorted. 
he’s sure that at this point the stems of the flowers he’s bought for you are already kinked from clutching them so hard in his hand. “so, may i come in? i’ll tell you everything. i promise.” aventurine doesn’t dare to look up, at least not yet.
“calling me, whenever you needed me like i’m a pet who listens to every command, whispering sweet nothings into my ear as if you were coaxing me into believing something that was untruthful from the very beginning, and—” frustratedly, you ball your hands into fists. “listen. everything i told you was honest. yes i wasn’t ready for a relationship but that doesn't mean that i didn’t love you.” aventurine forces himself to look up, but immediately regrets it upon seeing your hurt face.
nevertheless, he continues. “i’m still hung up on the past. the thought of being with someone and promising myself to stay with them and committing my time, my life, and my very being scares me. it doesn’t excuse my behavior and actions, no, but i hope that this helps you understand me better.”
“i'm sorry that i didn't confide you in this any sooner. I was scared that you too would leave me. so i thought that if i’d leave first, it wouldn’t hurt as much. but i was wrong, my heart fucking aches when i’m not with you.” he cringes at how fake this sounds. but he’s more bothered about the fact that his heart isn’t only twinging when not with you, but it also might jump out of his ribcage, right here, right now.
you bite down on your bottom lip and contemplate. it's faint and if aventurine hadn’t paid attention, he’d have missed it. the way you mutter dumbass under your breath.” forget it,” you sigh as if reaching your breaking point. “just come in.”
this time, you fully open the door to him and he feels a wave of relief washing over him. “you’ve always been a mystery to me kakavasha.” you whisper, and aventurine’s lips form into a small smile as he trails and follows behind you, into your home.
a mystery, you say?
aventurine makes a promise to himself as he places the flowers into the glass vase you provided him. this time he’d be completely honest with you. about everything and anything.
so here it is — his heart laid bare.
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end note: who am i kidding. if he came back to me pleading id also take him back.
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also tagging @azullumi because at this point it'd be weird not to do this. i just want to thank you azul. thank you for being an amazing friend. thinking back, i used to have much worse communication skills. avoiding the ones around me or never voicing my problems aloud. but you giving me advice has genuinely inspired and impacted me so much. simply because i wanted to be so much like you cause i looked up to you so much and i still do. and recently those efforts of trying to better my social skills have paid off (kind of). I've become better and more mindful when it comes to people addressing their problems they have with me and thus trying to reflect and change my behavior. but I'm also able to talk about the things that bother me better now, simply because i took your advice. azul you understand me like no other. you take the words out of my mouth and are able to form such beautiful sentences i could never even think of. honestly your way with words is what enamors me the most about you.
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© FELIBRARY 2024. stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms or feeding them to ai is not permitted.
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cailinsblog · 2 days ago
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Hi! saw your taking requests, can i ask for a long smutty fic with dark s2 rafe stepbro rafe with bimbo stepsister who is kind of oblivious to how possessive he is about her and he gets jealous and overtime and they have have sex, maybe thanks, no pressure!
Omggg yessss I love this I hope you love this thank you for the request I love writing them💕💕
Crazy stepsister | rafe Cameron
Rafe Cameron x reader
⚠️smut⚠️
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Rafe was getting really sick of his new stepsister, Y/n, being completely oblivious to how much he was actually into her. She would flirt with him and act all coy when she was around him but when he would get a bit handsy with her, she would just laugh and push him away, not realizing how turned on that was making him. He would sit there and stare at her as she would go on about her day, always paying attention to her every move.
He loved how she would always look so put together and stylish, even when she was just lounging around the house. She had this way of making even the most basic outfits look so chic and fashionable. One thing that always caught his eye was her obsession with his abs. She would always stare at them whenever he would take his shirt off, and he loved the way she would touch them and run her fingers down his muscles. He wanted more than anything to take her to his bed and make her scream his name as he fucked her hard and fast.
Today was the day he was going to make his move. He had been planning it out for weeks, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. He was going to show her just how much he wanted her, and he wasn't going to take no for an answer.
As she walked by him in the kitchen, he reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her close to him. She looked up at him in surprise, her blue eyes wide with shock. He leaned in close to her, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, "I want you, Y/n. I've wanted you for so long, and I can't wait any longer."
She gasped as she felt his hand on her waist, his fingers digging into her skin as he pulled her closer to him. He could feel her heart racing as he kissed her neck, his lips trailing down to her collarbone. She moaned as she felt his tongue dart out, tasting her skin.
He knew he had her now. She was putty in his hands, and he was going to make her scream his name as he fucked her hard and fast. He picked her up and carried her to his bedroom, throwing her down on the bed as he climbed on top of her.
She looked up at him, her eyes wide with desire as he ripped her clothes off, exposing her perfect body to him. He growled as he took in her curves, his eyes trailing down to her perfect tits. He leaned down and took one of her nipples in his mouth, sucking and biting as she moaned and writhed beneath him.
He moved down her body, his lips trailing down to her pussy. He spread her legs apart, his tongue darting out as he tasted her. She moaned as she felt his tongue on her clit, her back arching off the bed as he licked and sucked her.
He knew she was close, and he wasn't going to let her cum without him. He stood up and pulled his pants down, his hard cock springing free. He climbed on top of her, his cock sliding into her wet pussy as she moaned and screamed his name.
He fucked her hard and fast, his hips slamming into hers as she wrapped her legs around him, pulling him deeper inside of her. He could feel her pussy clenching around his cock as she came, her juices flowing down his shaft as he continued to fuck her.
He couldn't hold back any longer. He felt his cock twitching inside of her as he came, filling her up with his cum. He collapsed on top of her, his breathing heavy as he kissed her neck, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, "I love you, Y/n."
She smiled up at him, her eyes shining with love as she whispered, "I love you too, Rafe."
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ilyrafe · 2 days ago
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𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒚𝒆𝒕 ✧ 𝒅. 𝒔.
pairing: drew starkey x f!reader
warnings: miscarriage but its so fluffy yall :((
word count: 1.2k
a/n: this is so shitty y’all i’m sorry djfjdk
pls he looks so cute here
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when you said you wanted him to enjoy the moment with his family, he thought it was strange, but he didn’t argue. you’ve always understood how close he is to his family, and this moment in his career is important, you want him to celebrate with his parents, siblings, and closest friends.
you’ve only been together for a short time, and you’re not close enough to his family to be at family gatherings, you don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.
“we can celebrate later, just you and me.” you said, sealing your promise with a kiss, before you left his apartment, three days ago.
drew found it strange, but he thought you were just giving him space, which he appreciated. after a lot of family celebration, he went to your place, ready to spend at least a whole weekend, which you loved. there’s so much to talk about.
when you think about it, you didn’t think this thing with drew would go as far as it has been, because his schedule is chaotic and so is yours. when you first met, he was about to go to morocco to shoot outer banks, but he kept texting, calling.
“i know this is kinda all over the place right now, but i wanna see where this is going. do you?”
“i do.”
and that was it. you knew then and there, with only three weeks of dating (online dating for the most part), that you were in love. he’s so sweet, and so silly, too. somehow, you trust him. after being let down so many times, he’s made you feel safe from day one.
you’re not scared to tell him.
you’re on your bed, just waiting for him to get out of the shower. you’re barely paying attention to the tv, you’re just mindlessly scrolling through reels on your instagram, just waiting.
he comes out, shirtless, with damp hair and wearing the sluttiest thing a man can wear - black boxers that fit him just right. he’s such a beautiful man.
“d’you wanna take a picture?” he jokes when he catches you staring.
“you do it on purpose, don’t you?”
“of course i do.”
he gets under the covers and immediately latches onto you, resting his head on your chest. all he really wants is to feel you near him. it turns out, he wanted you with his family. he wanted you there, he wanted to properly introduce you to his loved ones, but maybe you’re not ready and he’ll give you all the time you need.
“i’ve missed you so much,” he says, his voice muffled by your skin.
you smell like french vanilla, and he loves that scent on you. he delights himself in your touch, when your nails lightly scratch his scalp and the nape of his neck.
“i’ve missed you, too. very much.”
he smiles against your skin and takes a long, deep breath, finally allowing his body to relax.
“um… so, i was kind of wanting to talk to you.” you say, trying to sound calm. well, you are calm, but you are also just a tad nervous.
he sits up, no longer relaxed.
“what is it?”
you sigh, look down and extend your hands, as a silent request for his. drew understands and places his hands on yours. your face is serene, but he can tell something is wrong.
“babe, tell me. i knew something was wrong, you were too distant these last couple of weeks.”
you chuckle - you can’t hide anything from this man.
“i’m gonna preface it by saying that i am okay, i am fine, but something did happen, and i’ve debated whether or not i should tell you, and i thought that you deserve to know.”
“you’re scaring me.”
“no, please, it’s… it’s okay. just let me say it all first and then you can speak, okay?” drew doesn’t respond, but you take his silence as a nod. “so, a few weeks ago, i was taking a shower and felt a weird abdominal pain, and then there was blood. i wasn’t on my period, so i got a bit scared and went to the hospital. i had a few tests done and found out… um…” you trail off, because this is surprisingly hard to talk about. he lightly squeezes your hands, encouraging you to keep going. “i had a miscarriage.”
oh.
wait.
what?
“a miscarriage?”
“i didn’t know. the doctor explained that it was common for women to have a miscarriage before even knowing they were pregnant.”
drew is quiet, absorbing the whole information. you were pregnant, and didn’t even know it. you had a miscarriage and he wasn’t there for you.
“why didn’t you tell me? i would’ve taken the first flight back to be here with you.”
“i know you would, that’s why i didn’t.” you explain, kissing the back of his hand right after. “also, i needed to figure it out by myself first. i was shocked to learn through a miscarriage that i was pregnant. it was a lot to process.”
“i can’t even imagine. but… how are you now?”
“i’m okay, i promise. i have one last appointment next week.”
“i’ll go with you.”
“okay. that’d be great, actually.”
he sighs, a bit relieved. at least you’re okay.
“i thought you should know because, well, i was pregnant. and if nothing had happened, i would still be pregnant, and i know it’s early, we haven’t talked about these things and i’m not pressuring you to do or say anything, but i still wanted you to know. felt really wrong to keep this from you.”
“no, you did the right thing.” he says, kissing the back of your hand. “i’m just sorry you went through all of this alone.”
“it’s okay, though. i wanted you to be the first person to know. and maybe the only one. i don’t think we should tell anyone else about this. like, it’d be just… pointless.”
“right. but, uh, if you do want to talk about kids, we can.”
“oh?”
“i mean… i’ve thought about it.” he admits. “i’m the eldest of the family, my mom has already started asking me for grandbabies, she says liliana needs a cousin.” you giggle. “but at the same time, the life i live today wouldn’t be possible with a kid, if i’m honest. i barely have time to sleep, let alone raise a child, and if i’m meant to have kids, i want to be there.”
“when i would think about children, i thought about pregnancy and how i needed to avoid it like the plague during my teenage years,” you laugh. “even when some of my friends got pregnant, i never really saw myself in their position, you know? i guess it wasn’t a priority for me, and still isn’t, but… i’m not ruling it out.”
“i’m not either.”
“so… there’s that.” you shrug, relieved that it all went well. “thank you for listening, i was a bit nervous.”
he nods, completely enchanted by you. he wishes he could navigate difficult topics the way you do. so natural, so easy. you seem to have your shit together and he’s so jealous of that.
“you can always tell me anything.”
“i know.”
“if something like this happens again, tell me. i don’t want you to go through anything bad alone ever again, okay?”
you nod, letting him hug you. oh, you love him.
“we’ll have plenty of time to talk about it and other stuff, too.”
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i love feedback! let me know what you think!
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cobaltperun · 1 day ago
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Darkest Part (6 - Finale) - Like a Bullet
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Astrid Deetz x female Reader
Summary: You will never, in life or afterlife, if such a thing exists, meet anyone as infuriating, rage inducing, entitled, or frankly awful, as Astrid fucking Deetz. There isn’t a single thing you’d like more than to never be around her, but as your luck would have it, you just can’t stay away from her.
Masterlist / First part / Previous Part
Word count: 5.3k
-I don't know what it is that you do to me baby, if you knew would you tell that you feel the same way that I do-
A few days following the craziest night of your life you were finally back home in Manhattan. You never thought you would be missing this place. Not that you disliked it, you just never thought you’d get this nostalgic after less than a week. Granted, after everything that happened seeing the old buildings you got so used to felt like the most comforting sight in the world. “Home sweet home,” you said, breathing out a sigh of relief, as you stretched right outside of Lydia's car. They were kind enough to drop you off.
“So eager to get away from me, are you?” Astrid reached out through the window and nudged you slightly with her fist.
“Of course! What did you think? I can't stand being around you, you damn Chihuahua,” you smirked as you said that, at this point you were both just bantering because it came as a second nature to you. To some people it might seem like a genuine argument, but what was going on between you was more of a habit rather than anything, and there was absolutely no malice behind any word you spoke. Still you leaned into the car through the window and took her hand. “The deal remains, right?” you asked with a tiny bit of uncertainty in your voice. “We are meeting on Saturday at eleven in the morning?” that was the plan at the moment, you would meet up in the park go to a café and well, you would see where things go from there.
Astrid squeezed your hand and smiled, reassuring you without a single word. She still spoke up, “Of course, you better impress me, Barnacle.”
You rolled your eyes at that. “Please, you need to earn being impressed,” you replied with a cheeky grin on your face.
Astrid suddenly reached up and pushed a strand of your hair back behind your ear “Oh, do I?
Really?” Lydia must have turned the heating up to the max because it suddenly got really, actually really hot in the car.
“No, of course you don’- wait no, you actually do I changed my mind! You do, you absolutely do,” you pulled away from the car and pointed at her. “Just for that stunt you have to actually earn being impressed, because you’re, well you are- ah, fuck,” your brain just wasn't working. “You’re being you! Yeah, that works, I’m going with that,” and all the while Astrid was laughing her ass off.
Astrid got her laughter under control far too quickly for your liking and gestured for you to come closer, which you did as if drawn in by some spell. She smiled and patted you on the cheek. “Sure, whatever makes you sleep at night, Barnacle.”
You pulled away from her because you just did not deserve to be teased like this. Not when you felt so powerless against her. Why was it easier to deal with Astrid when you were at each other's throats? All the time your thought getting along would make things easier for you, that you already had everything figured out, but no, you were a stuttering mess whose brain constantly failed to deliver a proper response to Astrid’s consistent and tireless efforts to get under your skin.
And the worst thing about it?
She was damn near 100% successful.
No, forget damn near. She was 100% successful.
~X~
You were fucking late and somehow that made you feel like something like this has already happened. It was like you were reliving a day from a while ago, sleeping in, getting ready in a haste, skipping out on breakfast, on a surprisingly sunny November day, and rushing to meet up with someone in a small café in the middle of the park. Only this time you were meeting up with Astrid, instead of with Alex. Huh, their names started with A as well…
Too many coincidences, but you couldn’t think about that right now. You ran through the crowd, narrowly dodging people as you weighed your options. You could jump over the fence and save a couple of minutes, or you could be a civilized human being and take the proper path.
You hated being late too much.
You jumped over the park's fence and ran like hounds of hell were chasing you. Considering everything you went through just a week prior that would actually be tame.
You did not want to be late to your kinda date with Astrid. Hell no! You would not allow that.
And then it happened.
In your haste you didn't pay attention to your surrounding and, honestly you should be surprised it wasn't happening to you more often, you ran into someone and reflexively caught them before they could fall.
"Sorry," you and the person said at the same time and you blinked, looking at Astrid as she regained her balance and held onto your shoulders much longer than necessary. Granted, your hands were on her waist as well and if ignoring that you ran into each other one could be forgiven for mistaking the way you were for an embrace.
But it wasn't that detail that made you freeze.
You suddenly felt like you were transported to the last year, to that day you were meeting up with Alex. To the first time you met Astrid, just like this.
Instead of an apology, what left both of your mouths back then was a simple 'watch where you're going,' even as you were both to blame. Next thing you knew, you met her again at the library and the hate between you properly began.
"Guess neither one of us wanted to be late," Astrid laughed and then she just... hugged you and you pulled her closer, loving how perfect it felt to hug her like this.
"I don't know about you, but I heard first impressions are hard to fix," you whispered in her ear, and she squirmed a bit, she was probably ticklish, and your breath tickled her. That was a theory you'd be testing at a more appropriate time.
"Mhm, Barnacle," she reluctantly pulled away and took your hand, leading you toward the café.
The two of you went inside and somehow you forgot how cozy this place was, it had this rustic feel to it, and it was certified eco-friendly, which was important to Astrid, and to you to be perfectly honest. This was the kind of place you want to one day help create among many, many other things.
Astrid took you to a corner and instead of sitting on the opposite side of you she sat down next to you on the bench so that meant your thighs were nearly touching. The warmth of the fireplace in the middle of the café, the soft music playing, and the dim lighting made this all feel a lot more intimate than you were intending. And it was definitely more intimate than a supposedly definitely friendly date you were on.
The two of you ordered your coffees and then just fell into a comfortable silence, not really sure how to interact with one another when you weren't bantering. It didn’t escape your notice that you didn’t mind being silent with Astrid, it felt comforting, and you had no need to fill the silence. Besides, the somewhat shy smile on Astrid's face told you she didn't mind the silence one bit either.
“So, architecture, right?” she finally broke the silence and you could see that it was something she was curious about for a long time
You cleared your throat, not really used to talking about your passion to anyone other than your mother and Alex and sometimes, though very rarely, Delia while she was still alive. Hell, Astrid probably heard about it from Delia, if the drawing she fixed didn’t give her enough clues. It was actually a relief, that Astrid asked about something you genuinely cared about, it would definitely calm down your nervous heartrate. Or so you hoped. “I've always loved drawing, I guess,” you began, shrugging a bit. “More than that, well, I think that's the most efficient way to changed things on a smaller scale, you know change the everyday living habits and try to counter the climate change like that. Make a small difference one building at a time,” you thought you’d get less nervous, but all of a sudden you weren't exactly confident in your words having never truly expressed them to anyone other than your mom.
Deep down you knew you really wanted to get Astrid’s approval on this. You could only hope Astrid would understand and the smile on her face calmed you down in an instant. She understood, and surprisingly you could see an undeniable admiration in her eyes. And even then, you still felt like she was the one who deserved admiration.
“I think that's amazing,” she replied, actually sounding a bit excited and then it was as if she got self-conscious about it as she looked down at the table. “Sorry, It's kind of weird to be talking like this when we've spent a year at each other's throats, I'm kind of struggling to keep myself from just blurting out things I've been apparently secretly thinking all along,” Astrid confessed with a blush on her face and then, she leaned a bit closer to you, closing the distance as she turned a bit and placed for hand on top of yours. She took a deep breath. “I have admired your talent ever since I saw your drawing for the first time, and Delia did mention we would get along if we just talked. I never realized she was this right.”
This time it was your turn to squeeze her hand in reassurance. “It took some time, but we got here,” you smiled and that seemed to work as she squeezed your hand back. “And come on, whatever you want to say can't be as bad as all the things I blurted out under that truth serum,” you both laughed at the memory of that and listening to Astrid laughing, well, it truly was one of the most beautiful sounds you ever heard. “I could listen to you laughing all day long,” you quickly covered your mouth “Damn it! Am I still under the influence of that thing?!”
“I think it faded, it's just you being a goofball,” Astrid laughed and there was just something in her eyes that pulled you in as you were leaning closer. And you were very much aware she was leaning in as well. “You know there's nothing friendly about this, don't you?” Astrid asked as her breath mixed in with yours, as your lips inched closer with every excruciating second that passed.
“I know,” you whispered and in a burst of reckless disregard for consequences that you really couldn't think of right now, you closed the distance between you and kissed her. And her lips felt like the softest thing your lips ever touched. She kissed you back immediately, her hands reaching and caressing your face and back of your head as she held you closer. You rested your palm, slightly sweaty from the nervousness, on her thigh as your other hand slipped around her to the middle of her back.
Astrid hummed as you ever so slightly deepened the kiss and as you basked in the warmth of her lips and the feeling of her touch on you you realized that this passion you were already feeling was just as strong as the one you felt when you would banter any chance you saw one another.
When you separated out of the need for air, you still remained close, your lips still just slightly touching. “We should have done that a long time ago,” Astrid confessed as she kept you close, committing every touch, every feeling and sensation to memory.
“We really should have,” you replied and pulled back slightly. “So is this, uh, second date, fixing your impression on dating?”
Astrid pecked you on the lips once more. “You know, I think I'll just ignore what happened. I’ll just call that what it really was, a trap. So, it's fair to call this my very first date,” she decided and smiled. “This was my first kiss, just so you know,” she was blushing as she said that.
“Mine too. Both, the date and kiss,” you admitted as well. You felt nervous about the date last night which was probably why you overslept and now you felt dumb for being nervous. This was Astrid! You knew her, even when you were enemies you deep down knew her.
The smile on Astrid’s face widened, and you had no doubt in your mind, a part of her was satisfied with finding out she got your first kiss. “That ghost tried to kiss me, but there was an infuriatingly difficult to get rid of face that popped up in my mind, so I didn't. I couldn't kiss him when I was there thinking about you,” you could see what she was doing, evening things out after all, you did spill your guts because of the truth serum so here she was returning the favor one bit of information after another.
And you were absolutely thankful for it.
~X~
You couldn't remember the last time your apartment was this busy, this all over the place! You've actually been kind of anxious over the past week ever since you basically, and by pure nervous accident, invited Astrid and Lydia over for a dinner, and you've been in that panicked state ever since.
“Mom, can you please just go and lay down?” you pleaded with your mother as she continued cooking preparing yet another dish. “Please! We could feed ten people and it's only the four of us!” you said it, but you were clearly seeing that she was just as nervous as you were.
“What if they don't like something here? There needs to be a backup and the backup for a backup because there's always a chance you make two things someone doesn't like,” yeah she was nervous even more nervous than you.
And that was damn difficult to accomplish!
“That's not going to happen, mom. Even if it does, well if they don't like it they don't like it. Come on, it’s just my girlfriend and her mom coming over!” you cried out, trying to reason with her. Astrid and Lydia would be here in two hours and the kitchen was a mess, and your mom was still cooking and not the soups and main dishes, but the side dishes that you had no way of naming. Where did she even pull all those recipes out of?
“That’s exactly why!” she pointed a wooden spoon at you. “Your girlfriend is coming over, and you've never had a girlfriend before, and you are just two weeks into the relationship,” actually three but you were too embarrassed to tell your mom you got together with Astrid barely ten days after you stopped hating her so you only told her after the third date. “And she's coming over with her mother for dinner, so we can get to know each other, so it's serious and I need to make sure everything is perfect,” with her health she would be bedridden for the next weekend and you really should have just taken them to the restaurant, but no, your mom was too proud for that! She needed to cook food to show off her cooking skills, which she had, she was an amazing cook, but she wasn't healthy enough to do all of this, yet here she was doing exactly that!
“I'm going to start washing the dishes,” at this point there was no use in arguing and you needed to get this mess cleaned up.
Exactly 2 hours later the doorbell rang, and you jumped like you got burnt even though you were tired and sore from everything, but at least the dinner was ready and absolutely perfect.
You opened the doors to see them standing there, with Astrid nervously messing around with the leaf of the rose she was carrying. Why was she like this? This-this- you just wanted to squeeze and hug her and never let her go! Lydia seemed to be quite nervous as well, seeing as she was almost bouncing from one foot to another, so, overall all four of you were just nervous messes and it showed.
Astrid immediately hugged you and that helped. It helped both of you a lot as you just relaxed into the embrace. “This is either going to be a disaster or a great night there won't be an in-between,” Astrid whispered to you as she gave you the rose and you couldn't agree more so you hoped it would be perfect.
“Hope for the best, prepare for the worst?” you whispered back and thanked her for the rose befo turning to greet Lydia as well.
“That smells delicious, did you and your mom make the food?” Lydia asked as you stepped into the apartment.
“Mostly mom, I hate to say this, but cooking isn't my strongest suit,” you admitted sheepishly and placed the rose in an empty vase. You immediately led them right into the dining room because your mom would already be getting the table ready.
“You actually looked cute as a kid,” Astrid commented offhandedly and your eyes widened, there shouldn’t be any photos of you hanging on the walls! They were all in the photo albums so where did she even see that?! And then you saw it too, the picture of you when you were a kid and worst of all it was the most embarrassing one ever taken of you, the one from the Halloween where you were dressed as a pumpkin. “Orange suits you,” Astrid teased and all you could do was glare at your mother who traitorously hung the photo on the wall while you were distracted by everything else that needed to be done.
“I’m going to find some embarrassing photos of you, just you wait,” you grumbled and that suddenly gained you a surprising ally in the battle, as Lydia patted you on the shoulder.
“Oh, I can show you lots of them,” Lydia promised you and maybe this night would be perfect after all, despite the embarrassing start.
“No! You can't!” Astrid tried to intimidate the Lydia into backing down but you were already leaning closer to the woman.
You put your hand up, as if you were about to whisper, but you spoke loud enough for Astrid to clearly hear you. “I would be very, very happy to exchange the embarrassing photos I took of Astrid enjoying the cutest things imaginable when we were at the amusement park for those photos that you just mentioned,” you proposed, much to Lydia’s liking and the two of you shook hands. It was a deal, one that would benefit both of you.
“I've been betrayed,” Astrid dramatically lamented.
“Oh, don't worry, dear we can have our own little exchange,” you froze when you heard your mother saying that.
She did not just suggest that to Astrid!
“Mom!” you cried out, genuinely afraid because not only did your mother have the pictures she was more than willing to share the stories.
“You know, I had to ask Alex what your name was because all she,” your mom pointed at you, “would ever talk about was Chihuahua this, Chihuahua that, ever since the two of you met. She had a crazy crush on you, I'm telling you,” and your mom wasn't paying any attention to your protests and was instead having the time of her life embarrassing you and revealing your secrets.
And the damn Chihuahua was eating it all up.
Like the hungry demon that fed on embarrassment of unfortunate people.
“How about you just sit down and we can eat?” you suggested and pulled the chair out for Astrid to sit down on. And you chose that chair on purpose, because it was the furthest from your mom, so you could do damage control.
Astrid, instead, took one look at the seating plan you had in mind and took the seat next to the one you so carefully chose for her.
“I think your mom and I have a lot to talk about,” Astrid gave you a quick kiss as a consolation for what was about to transpire, and you just stood there, ready to say goodbye to your dignity. At least you could do the same to her and listen to her embarrassing stories from Lydia.
“This means war, Chihuahua,” you promised, but she just grinned.
“My dear Barnacle, whatever you learn won't be half as bad as what I'm about to learn,” she was so sure of that, and to make things even worse, you were sure of that as well. This was, truly, a war you couldn’t even hope to win.
~X~ Five months later ~X~
Astrid’s birthday was quickly approaching and you had the best idea ever! The most fitting gift for her birthday! Nothing, absolutely nothing could have worked as well as the gift you had in mind, and the grin on your face was something you could not suppress even if you wanted to, so here you were working at the library with the most ridiculously happy grin on your face.
If you weren’t in a library you were sure you’d be whistling or singing with how happy you were.
“You're actually a bit scary when you are this happy, you know that?” Alex suddenly commented there was no malice in his voice, he was just stating the fact.
“I figured out the perfect gift for Astrid,” you told him and you just knew that he would have whistled if you weren't in the library.
“I know I keep saying this and I’ll keep saying it for a long time, but I don't know whether it's wild or actually to be expected to see you two together. Last year you were at the each other's throats and now you are girlfriends,” he was right, you and Astrid have been dating for almost half a year now and it just so happened that her birthday was next week. “So, lover girl, what do you have in mind?”
You leaned in and whispered the answer into his ear and his eyes widened almost comically large as he turned to look at you. “No, no, Y/N,” your grin just got even bigger. “No, you can't.”
“Yes I can, yes I will,” there was no talking you out of this, the gift was too perfect!
“I have 3 words for you,” he suddenly got completely serious.
“Yeah?” you were almost worried to hear them, but your mind was set.
“Rest in peace.”
And it didn't matter that you were in the library you laughed your ass off. He was being too dramatic, surely Astrid wouldn't kill you.
Right?
~X~
Lydia couldn't remember the last time she was this at ease. Free from her show, having a healthy, repaired relationship with Astrid and with her dad and Delia occasionally haunting her. Everything was peaceful and quiet as she sipped on her coffee.
"I'll kill you, Barnacle!" Astrid shouted from her room and Lydia barely nearly choked on her coffee. You and Astrid still bantered, but this time Astrid actually sounded serious with that threat.
"Think of all the cleaning!" your half-panicking, half-amused shout came next, and Lydia honestly prayed that you didn't do anything too stupid to get Astrid to banter with you. Actually, she was probably hoping for too much, you had a strange fixation with making each other as annoyed and willing to banter as humanly possible and it went for both of you. She did not want to think about what the outcome of all of that frustration was or would eventually be especially seeing as the two of you would start living together once you started going to college.
You ran down the stairs as fast as humanly possible and jumped over her sofa to hide from Astrid. Well, hide was generous, as you snickered next to Lydia. Really, Astrid only had to come downstairs and she would find you immediately
"Y/N, don't provoke her on her birthday," she lightly chastised you, but she would be lying if she said she wasn't amused. A bit worried and maybe a tad bit concerned but amused, because as annoyed as Astrid would seem during the banter she could see that glimmer in her daughter's eyes. She knew Astrid was having fun even if she wouldn't readily admit it.
"Not my fault she has no sense of humor. The gift is perfect," you whispered, barely holding back from laughing.
Before Lydia could further question you, she heard Astrid running down as well. "Get this demon spawn pretending to be a dog back where it belongs! Right with you in the deepest depths of hell!"
A chihuahua. You got Astrid, a chihuahua.
Lydia laughed as she looked at her daughter. Despite the anger in Astrid's voice the youngest Deetz couldn't resist actually petting the puppy and it somehow seemed to like her which would probably mean that the rest of you were doomed.
“See, she likes you!” you laughed as well and pointed at the Chihuahua.
“Nonsense,” Astrid said but the blush on her face gave away how she actually felt. Lydia remembered how much Astrid wanted a dog as a child and maybe Chihuahua wasn't the first choice her daughter would have made when she was a child, but she would have been happy regardless of the breed. And seeing her with a dog now brought a smile to Lydia's face.
“I guess I have to keep it,” Astrid tried to play it cool, as she looked at the puppy. “I'm going to call you Barnacle, Barny for short so we don't confuse both barnacles,” she said the second part while glaring or at least trying to glare at you as you went and bravely walked over to her and instead of killing you as she promised she would Astrid just lightly kissed you on the lips.
“See, that's perfect,” you pet the puppy only for it to bite you or at least bite you as hard as the puppy could. “See and she hates me just like you did! Truly a perfect gift if I can say so myself,” you pointed out.
The three of you just laughed at that and that's how Astrid got stuck with the dog.
~X~
If a year ago someone approached you and told you that you would no longer be working for Delia because she went and got scammed and died out of embarrassment, yes you were going along with that version of events, and that you would actually be moving in with Astrid as you were getting ready to start college and that you would be together and having a Chihuahua named Barnacle you would have just laughed at them because it would have been the most ridiculous story you ever heard.
But that was a year ago, back when both Delia and Charles were alive and well, back when Astrid was the most annoying, infuriating person you've ever met instead of just being the most annoying, infuriating person you loved and things really were a lot different.
You spent the day unpacking, which was actually kind of nostalgic given packing and unpacking was part of your job while you worked for Delia and now the apartment you and Astrid were renting was pretty much ready for you. Well, aside from the bedroom, that was the last room to deal with. There were some interior design choices to be made but overall the apartment really was perfect.
“Your passion for architecture is paying off, this looks amazing,” Astrid commented as she stepped inside the living room from the kitchen. She was busy unpacking everything meant for the kitchen. All the while you were busy arranging the living room mixing everything that both of you loved. So, now the living room didn’t look like one person's living space, but rather the combination of the two of you.
You snorted and looked at her. “Sure, tease. You know what that'll get you later,” you couldn't hold back a smirk as she blushed. You sat on the sofa and turned the TV on letting it fill in the silence because neither you nor Astrid were all that talkative unless there was a proper conversation to be had.
If one of you got passionate about something, then yeah you were talking and yapping and basically wouldn't stop speaking but otherwise it was fairly quiet with occasional communication done mostly through glances and silent signs.
“What can I say? You are rather fun to tease,” she told you and even though you you weren't looking at her right now you could tell what was on her mind.
"Heh, Chihuahua," you grinned, leaning your head back and closing your eyes. The sofa sinking slightly next to you made your grin widen.
A shiver ran down your spine when you felt a perfect nail gently, almost tantalizingly teasingly, go down your forearm. "Mhm, how about you shut me up then? If it annoys you so much?" Astrid whispered and you swallowed hard. Since when did her voice have such an effect on you? Right. Since you got together.
You turned slightly to look at her. "Now that's just barbaric," you whispered back, only now noticing how close to you she was, mere inches separated your faces, and you had to resist the urge to look at her lips, fearing that glance would be your undoing. You both still had work to do. The bedroom wasn't ready, because you decided that would be a task you would finish together.
Astrid pulled back a bit, but she placed the tip of her finger on the corner of her lips. Fucking chihuahua, knowing exactly what she was doing as you looked down and instinctively leaned closer to her. "I wouldn't mind, if the approach is correct and what I'm saying isn't important," she looked so confident, raising her hand and caressing your cheek before sliding it to the back of your head and pulling you closer.
You stopped resisting and turned, getting on your knees and leaning over her with your palm pressing right next to her head, and you could see in her eyes that she had you exactly where she wanted you. "Everything you say is important," you could feel her breath against your skin as you both leaned closer.
"Even when I annoy you?" she asked, so close now you could feel her lips against yours. She looked so confident. So sure of herself, but the tremble of her hand gave her away. The bedroom would have to wait.
"Especially when you annoy me, just means I should listen more carefully," you closed the traces of the distance left and kissed her, humming at how soft her lips were.
"Mhm, Barnacle," she relaxed, holding you close, hands slipping underneath your shirt.
"Yeah, that's very romantic, Chihuahua," you chuckled, peppering kisses from her ear to her jaw Taking in the sound of her soft breaths as sheep gave him to her needs and desires.
"It is," she laughed, slightly out of breath as you tugged at her shirt and lifted it up a bit "It means you're hard to get rid of, and that's exactly what I want. To be unable to get rid of you for a long, long time," she said and never before did that word sound so sweet.
Taglist: @alexkolax @osnapitzmel1 @bee-keeping @nebthetautora @lololauser
@nwestra @rroyale-109 @gemz5 @social-pomegranate @mirage018
@the-thing-withfeathers @hello-mtf @leafanonsforest @jaxon-nathaniel-drake @niqmandu
Masterlist / First part / Previous Part
A/N: And that's another story complete. I hate to say this, but Astrid really wasn't as inspiring as I hoped she would be, still, I'm satisfied with how the story turned out.
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F*ck Tradition | Yoongi
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- Pairing: Min Yoongi x Fiancee!Reader - Requested by: No One - Synopsis: Y/N takes Yoongi with her to go wedding dress shopping because her fiancées opinion is the only one that matters. - Requests: Open for now. Please read my requesting guidelines before requesting. - Warnings: None - Word Count: 1,125 - this was meant to be a timestamp but turned into something longer. - Taglist: Open. Send an ask or fill out the Tag List Form.
Min Yoongi Masterlist | BTS Masterlist
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"You should try it on," Yoongi suggests to his fiancée, noticing her stealing glances at the black wedding dress tucked away in the corner, far from the sea of traditional white gowns. It feels like the hundredth time she's looked at it since they arrived, and while Y/N might think she's being subtle, he can see her fascination as they wait for the consultant to help them.   
"Try what on?" she asks, attempting to make her interest in the dress look less obvious as she focuses on her soon-to-be husband. 
"The black dress that you can’t keep your eyes off," he grins, fully aware of her feelings. After all, he knows her better than anyone else. Leaning in a bit closer, he lowers his voice. "I can see it in your eyes, Y/N. You love that dress already." 
"But wedding dresses are supposed to be white, right? Something traditional. What will people say if I choose that?" she asks, unsure. 
"Who cares about other people’s opinions?" he replies confidently. "It’s our wedding day, mine and yours, and we can wear whatever we want. If that dress is the one you want, then wear it. Fuck tradition. We’re already breaking it."  
Biting her bottom lip, Y/N glances back at the dress, its fabric shimmering subtly under the store's lights, the deep black hue contrasting beautifully with its white surroundings. It’s unlike anything she’s ever imagined, yet she finds herself drawn to it. 
Before she can say anything, their consultant returns, "Sorry about that," she apologises for the wait, "Have any of the dresses caught your eye?" 
"The black one over there," Yoongi replies, pointing to the dress while Y/N shakes her head in protest. She’s about to decline, but he gently stops her. "Just try it on and see how you feel in it." 
Noticing the uncertainty in Y/N's eyes, the consultant adds, "Many of our brides are opting for non-traditional dresses these days. Just last week, we sold a lovely baby blue gown, and a dusty pink one a month ago." 
Y/N glances between Yoongi and the consultant, her heart racing at the thought of stepping outside the traditional boundaries of what colour a wedding dress should be. The black dress, with its elegant silhouette and intricate lace and beading detailing continues to lure her in. But, the weight of tradition looms heavily in her mind, casting shadows of doubt.  
"Okay," she finally concedes, her voice steadier now. "I’ll try it on." 
The consultant beams, clapping her hands together in delight. "Wonderful! Let’s get you into that dress," she says and leads them to a more private fitting area before going back to get the dress.  
As Y/N steps into the fitting room, her heart races with a mix of excitement and anxiety. She glances at Yoongi, who takes a seat on the couch, his expression a blend of encouragement and anticipation. 
“Just remember,” he says, his voice steady, “this is about you and you get to wear whatever you feel comfortable in.”  
Y/N nods, taking a deep breath as the consultant returns with the black dress draped over her arm. “Here we go!” the consultant smiles, “let's get you into the dress.” 
A wave of excitement washes over Y/N as she follows the consultant into the cozy dressing room nearby. The thrill builds as she undresses, and the consultant assists her in putting on the dress. The cool fabric glides against her skin. As the consultant makes adjustments, Y/N catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror. The dress fits her curves beautifully, enhancing her figure in a way that feels both empowering and stunning. The lace flows elegantly down the dress, and the beadwork sparkles in the light. For a moment, she forgets about the traditional gowns she had considered.  
“Wow,” she whispers, her voice soft. The reflection looking back at her is not just a bride; it’s a woman who feels confident and daring, ready to embrace one of the most significant days of her life.  
“You look amazing!” the consultant praises, stepping back to take in the sight of the dress. “It fits you perfectly. We might not need to make any adjustments. It seems like it was made just for you.”  
Y/N turns, her heart racing as she twirls slightly, the fabric swirling around her. A smile spreads across her face, the joy of the moment enveloping her.  
“Shall we go show your future husband?” the consultant suggests. 
Y/N's heart skips a beat at the thought of Yoongi seeing her in the dress. She nods eagerly, her excitement bubbling over.  
The consultant leads her out of the dressing room, and to where Yoongi is still seated on the couch, waiting. Y/N takes a deep breath, trying to calm the fluttering in her stomach.  
She gives Y/N a reassuring smile, and with a gentle nudge, she steps forward. “Ready to see your beautiful bride?” she asks, getting Yoongi’s attention. 
Yoongi looks up from his phone, his expression turning from curiosity to awe in less than a second, and Y/N feels a rush of warmth flood her cheeks. 
“Wow,” he breathes, his eyes widening as he takes in the sight of her in the black dress. “You look absolutely breathtaking.”  
A shy smile spreads across Y/N’s face. “Do you really think so?” she asks, her voice tinged with disbelief and hope.  
“More than anything,” he replies, standing up and stepping closer, his gaze never leaving her. To him, the dress reflects her personality—bold, elegant, and unapologetically herself. “That dress... it’s perfect for you. It’s like it was made for you,” he repeats the consultant’s words from earlier. 
Y/N’s heart swells, and she can’t help but feel a surge of confidence.  
The consultant watches the exchange with a satisfied smile. “I’ll let you two have a moment alone,” she says, stepping out of the room to give the couple some privacy.  
Yoongi and Y/N share a look filled with love and excitement, and in that instant, all the stress and pressure of wedding planning fades away. Y/N can feel tears in her eyes as she stands before him. She takes a deep breath, trying to steady the emotions swirling within her. “Thank you,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. 
“For what?” he asks, reaching out to wipe away the tear that had fallen, as he steps even closer to her, being mindful not to step on the dress. 
“Noticing me looking at the dress, convincing me to try it on,” she replies. “Knowing me better than anyone else.” 
“So, this is the dress?” he asks. 
“This is definitely the dress,” she confirms, smiling softly. 
“You look so beautiful,” he says returning her smile and pulls her in for a kiss.  
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@staytiny2000 - @do-you-remember-summer-127 - @alexxavicry
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greengoblinswifey · 3 days ago
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𝑭𝒂𝒎𝒆’𝒔 𝑬𝒅𝒈𝒆 ・₊✧🩶 Part II
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Pairing— Nicholas Chavez x Model!Reader
Summary— You’re thrusted into a PR relationship with your new neighbor, Nicholas Chavez, you’re hesitant at first not knowing how it will benefit you but you warm up to it and find out he’s not the cold and detached person the media says he is.
Warnings— Fake relationship, Fluff, Sexual Tension, Mentions of Substance Use, Smoking.
Series Masterlist
The following morning, you were up earlier than usual. The events of the past day still loomed over you, from the damaging headlines to your ex-best friend slandering your name. Thankfully, it was mostly small blogs and gossip sites spreading her story, and you were confident you’d rise above it all. The photos of you shopping downtown were taking off on social media, and for once, the narrative seemed to favor you. You just hoped Angela’s so-called plan would center on building you back up.
Determined to present your best self, you called in your stylists to give you the ultimate morning glow-up. You chose a sleek off duty model look, an oversized Chanel tweed jacket paired with high-waisted tailored shorts and classic black ballet flats. The cream and beige color palette contrasted beautifully against your dark skin, which practically shimmered under the lighting. You felt put together, and it was a good feeling—one you hadn’t experienced in weeks.
At exactly 10 a.m., Angela called to let you know she was at the gate. “By the way,” she said casually, “I’m bringing a guest.”
“A guest?” you asked, glancing at yourself in the mirror one last time. “Who?”
“You’ll see,” she replied, then hung up.
You stood in the foyer, waiting for the sound of the bell. When it came, you smoothed down your jacket and opened the door, only to freeze in surprise. Standing next to Angela was your neighbor, Nicholas Chavez, looking annoyingly polished in a leather jacket, dark jeans, and a crisp white tee that screamed effortless charm.
Angela was all business. “Morning,” she said, breezing past you into the house. Nicholas followed, offering you a small smile.
“Uh, morning,” you said, closing the door. “Why’s my neighbor your guest? Wasn’t the cake enough?”
Angela turned to you with an exasperated look. “This isn’t about the damn cake. And Nicholas, thank you for humoring us this morning,” she added, motioning for him to sit.
Nicholas smirked as he lowered himself onto your couch. “The cake was really good, by the way. Thanks again.”
You folded your arms, leaning against the armrest of the sofa. “Okay, so why is my neighbor in my house? What’s the plan here?”
Angela gave you a pointed look, as if the answer should’ve been obvious. “The plan,” she began dramatically, “is a relationship.”
You blinked, then burst into laughter, the sound echoing off your high ceilings. Angela didn’t laugh. She just stood there, unimpressed, until you finally composed yourself.
“You know I don’t do relationships,” you said, raising a brow. “What are you talking about?”
“A PR relationship,” she clarified. “Very public. Very strategic.”
You tilted your head, glancing between her and Nicholas, who was casually leaning back on your couch, arms stretched out along the cushions. “I don’t get it. Why would either of us need that?”
Angela crossed her arms. “Because you are in damage control, and Nicholas here is the perfect solution.” She gestured to him. “He’s new, popular, fresh, clean-cut. Hollywood’s golden boy in the making. A rising star who just scored a breakout role and needs the right kind of visibility to stay in the conversation. You, on the other hand, are…” She trailed off and gestured vaguely at you.
You scowled. “A supermodel? A party girl?”
“A mess,” she corrected. “A rich, famous, gorgeous mess, sure, but still a mess. The public loves a redemption arc, and this will give them one. The troubled supermodel tamed by the sweet, boy-next-door actor. It’s a PR dream.”
Nicholas finally spoke, his voice calm and low. “I’m not exactly boy-next-door, Angela.”
“Close enough,” she shot back, waving him off.
You shook your head. “This sounds ridiculous. And I don’t see how being tied to me helps him. I mean, I’m in the middle of a PR crisis.”
Angela didn’t flinch. “It helps him because you’re you. You’re a household name, a media darling, even with all the drama. Being seen with you puts Nicholas on magazine covers, gets him into rooms that will skyrocket his career. And for you, it softens your image. It shows stability, maturity, and lets people focus on something positive for once.”
Nicholas turned to you, his expression unreadable. “And for the record, I’m not opposed. If it helps both of us.”
You frowned, unsure how to respond. “And what? We just pretend to be in love?”
Angela nodded, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Exactly. Dates, appearances together, a few staged paparazzi moments. Maybe even some cryptic Instagram posts.”
“That sounds exhausting,” you muttered.
Angela stepped closer. “It’s not forever. Just a few months. Long enough to shift the narrative. You’re already halfway there with those shopping photos from yesterday. Let’s seal the deal.”
You looked at Nicholas, who shrugged, a small smirk playing on his lips. “Could be fun,” he said lightly.
“You think this is fun?” you asked.
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I think it’s an opportunity. For both of us. And honestly,” He paused, his eyes locking with yours. “You don’t strike me as the type to back down from a challenge.”
You rolled your eyes but felt your resolve wavering. The way Angela had laid it out, it almost made sense. And Nicholas, well, he was easy on the eyes. You could admit he was fine. If nothing else, he might distract you from the chaos for a while.
You sighed, finally throwing your hands up. “Fine. I’ll think about it.”
Angela grinned. “Good. That’s all I need for now.”
Nicholas stood, adjusting his jacket. “Let me know what you decide. I’ll be next door.”
As you walked them to the door, you couldn’t help but feel like you were being dragged into something much bigger than you anticipated.
You screamed out in frustration, the weight of Angela’s plan sinking in. You didn’t have a choice. If you didn’t make a big move to salvage your image, your agency would drop you. Bookings would dry up, shows would pass you over, and the fashion world would leave you behind. You’d be finished. And you couldn’t let that happen. You’d worked too hard to get here.
The thought of smoking on the balcony crossed your mind, but you shook it off. Paparazzi were probably camped out in the bushes beyond your gates, waiting for any misstep to capture and sell. You’d come too far to give them an easy headline. Instead, you lit up inside, taking a long drag from your joint as the familiar calm washed over you. You were making changes, after all. No hard drugs anymore, just weed. Baby steps.
The high brought clarity. A PR relationship wasn’t just an idea—it was a necessity. As much as it stung to think about Nicholas Chavez leeching off your fame, you knew it would be mutually beneficial. But still, the thought of tying yourself, even temporarily, to someone like him made your stomach twist. Sure, he was very attractive but he wasn’t in your league. You were scared of how much you’d have to give to make this work.
But it was fake. That’s what you told yourself. It was all for PR. Nothing more. Nothing less. He wouldn’t ruin your image, and you wouldn’t ruin his. It was transactional. Professional. It would be fine. Right?
You stubbed out the joint and made your way to Nicholas’ house next door. You barely had to ring the doorbell before he opened it, an actual smile lighting up his face. It threw you off. You’d never seen him smile in person or even in interviews. His reputation for playing cold, detached roles, especially after his breakout as Lyle Menendez—preceded him. Maybe Angela was right. He needed this just as much as you did.
He led you into his sleek, modern living room. The place was clean, organized, and clearly decorated by someone with taste. He motioned for you to sit, and you took a spot on the plush sofa.
“I hope you’ll be seeing more of this place,” he started, his voice smooth but slightly nervous. “And have you thought about our manager’s plan?”
You raised an eyebrow. “Wait, Angela’s your manager too?”
He nodded, and you rolled your eyes. Of course, she had orchestrated this from every angle.
You leaned back, crossing your legs. “Yeah, I’ve thought about it. I don’t have a choice, do I? It’s the best move for you.”
He looked a little taken aback, his ego clearly bruised. “For both of us, I think you’d benefit too,” he replied, his tone defensive.
You smirked, brushing him off. “Sure. But we both know you’re the one getting the most out of this. Let’s not kid ourselves.”
He let it go, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Fine. So, are we starting this now? What’s the first move?”
His eyes flickered to your lips briefly, and you caught it. Clearing his throat, he added, “I was thinking we could stage something big to kick things off. Flowers, candles, the whole deal. I’ll set up a space, maybe on your balcony or one of your other properties, and ask you to be my girlfriend. We’ll take pictures and post them to soft-launch the relationship a few days from now but first we’ll get paparazzi to snap a few candids of us but making sure to not get my face. Just enough to get people speculating.”
Your brow arched. “You’ve really thought this through, haven’t you?”
He grinned, a hint of smugness in his expression. “Guess I’m cut out for this Hollywood life after all.”
“Or you just really want to be seen with me,” you shot back, and he laughed.
“Can you blame me? You’ve been my celebrity crush for years,” he admitted, his tone playful but honest.
You laughed, shaking your head. “Expected.”
By the time you left his house, the plan was in motion. You both snuck off to one of your properties near the beach, Nicholas’ team working quickly to decorate the space with candles, roses, and twinkling lights. You’d gone home to change into a white Chanel dress that flattered you perfectly and made your skin glow under the evening light.
Once the setup was complete, you snapped a picture, careful to keep Nicholas out of frame. The photo went into your drafts, ready to post in a few days. Before leaving, you called your paparazzi contacts, making sure they’d capture strategic shots of you on the decorated balcony with your “mystery man” in the background, his face obscured.
The photos hit the internet within hours. By the time you were back home, your phone was blowing up with texts and notifications. Every media outlet, TMZ, Page Six, even Vogue—was talking about the “romantic mystery” surrounding your evening.
You and Nicholas sat close together on your bed, scrolling through the headlines. Angela called, her voice practically buzzing through the phone.
“Congratulations, to the new couple! This was perfect. Everyone’s talking about it. I knew you could pull it off.”
“Not like I had a choice,” you muttered, rolling your eyes.
Angela laughed. “Well, keep it up. Keep the image clean. And, Nicholas, I trust you to handle this.”
“What about me?” you snapped. “Don’t you trust me?”
“Not as much as I trust him,” Angela teased before hanging up.
You scoffed, tossing your phone onto the bed. “Great. Well, since we’re here, we might as well stay the night. But stay away from the windows. Last thing we need is more candid shots.”
Nicholas nodded in agreement. “Makes sense. Where should I sleep?”
“In here,” you replied nonchalantly. “We’re going to have to share hotel rooms eventually for appearances. Might as well practice now.”
He blinked, a little surprised, but didn’t argue.
You decided to shower first, stripping out of your dress and walking into the bathroom, fully aware of his eyes on you. You smirked to yourself, knowing he was watching your naked figure from behind. When you returned, towel-clad and refreshed, he took his turn. You couldn’t help but notice his muscular back and firm figure as he disappeared into the bathroom.
By the time he returned, you were both in bed, lying on opposite sides in a comfortable silence, the glow of the TV casting soft light across the room.
Nicholas broke the quiet, turning his head to you. “Alright, girlfriend. Since we skipped the talking and dating stage, tell me about yourself.”
You chuckled, rolling onto your side to face him. “What do you want to know?”
“Everything, you can start off with your modeling career if you’d like,” he said simply. His expression was soft, genuine. For the first time, he didn’t look like the detached actor or the PR project Angela had roped you into.
And, against your better judgment, you started talking, hesitantly at first. “I started because—I wanted to feel like I was someone, like I mattered, I want to be appreciated for what I had to offer. But it wasn’t easy,” you said, your voice steady but tinged with vulnerability. “It took years of hard work, long nights, endless rejection, and now it feels like it’s all slipping through my fingers.” You swallowed hard, your chest tightening. “The scandals, the rumors, it’s like everything I built is crumbling, and the worst part is they don’t even know the real me. I’m not that person they paint me as—some careless, drug-addicted mess.”
Nicholas’ expression didn’t waver. He didn’t interrupt or glance away. Instead, he shifted slightly closer, his elbow resting on the mattress as he propped his head on his hand. “And now,” you continued, your voice breaking slightly, “I just feel like a failure. Like I’ve disappointed everyone who ever believed in me.”
He reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against your cheek as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. The gesture was so gentle, so uncharacteristic, that it caught you off guard. You froze, your breath hitching as you stared at him, unsure of how to respond. “It’s going to be okay,” he said softly, his deep voice laced with sincerity. “You’re not what they say you are. I see you for who you really are—a hard worker, talented, smart, beautiful, and so much more. We’ll figure this out. We’ll fix your reputation together.”
Your throat tightened at his words. You didn’t know how to react—this wasn’t the detached, unfeeling Nicholas the world talked about. He was warm, reassuring, and entirely present. “Thank you,” you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. “You’re not like what people say you are either.” You managed a small smile. “Detached with dead eyes? Doesn’t seem to fit right now.”
He chuckled, a low, genuine sound that made your chest feel lighter. “Guess they don’t know me that well either, huh?”
You laughed softly, the tension between you easing. He hesitated for a moment before clearing his throat. “So, uh, do you maybe want to cuddle?” he asked nervously, his usual confidence replaced with uncertainty.
You raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “Why do you wanna do that, Chavez? Ain’t no media or paparazzi in here to see what’s going on.”
He paused, his mouth twitching into an embarrassed smile. “Just practicing,” he said with a shrug.
You couldn’t help but laugh again, rolling your eyes as you shifted closer to him, resting your head against his chest. His strong arm wrapped loosely around your shoulders, and you let yourself relax, his steady heartbeat soothing you. “You’re something else,” you murmured before sleep claimed you both.
Hours later, you woke to the soft rise and fall of his chest against yours. The room was still dark, the quiet hum of waves beyond the windows faint in the background. His arms were wrapped firmly around you, his body pressing against yours in a way that felt impossibly warm and secure. You blinked groggily, realizing your legs were tangled with his, your face nestled against his chest. And then, you felt it—a firm pressure against your hip.
Your cheeks heated as you carefully shifted, trying to move without waking him. You turned away slightly, hoping to create some distance, but before you could, his arm tightened around your waist, pulling you flush against him once more. He shifted in his sleep, his breath brushing against the back of your neck as he spooned you. You froze, hyper-aware of every inch of contact, his solid frame molding against you and the unmistakable hardness pressing against you.
“It’s just—early morning wood,” you muttered quietly to yourself, trying to convince your racing thoughts to settle. “That’s all it is.” You closed your eyes, willing yourself to ignore the heat creeping up your neck. After a few moments of stillness, his steady breathing calmed you again, and you drifted off, lulled by the warmth and weight of him enveloping you.
Maybe this PR relationship thing wouldn’t be so bad, he was tolerable—just a bit, for now.
︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿
Taglist: @blackynsupremacy @rafeysslut
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grahstumhurts · 1 day ago
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2. Putting it into gear
Cheerleader!Megan x Loser Band Member!Reader
A/N Not proof read lol so it might have some weird wording and shit.
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The late May air is starting to feel slightly humid and hot as it usually does by this time, Megan's waiting outside. Leaning on the side of the school fence looking effortlessly beautiful as she does.
“Hey” you greet her, “What did you need to talk about?” She looks up from her phone, then looks around behind you to see if people are watching.
“Look, I owe you an apology and-” 
“That's an understatement.” You cut her off. “Two years of ignoring me should get me something better than an apology”
“Just hear me out” 
She looks you in the eyes, Her pupils glistening with the caramelised apple colour it's always been.
“Please,” 
“Fine” You cross your arms in anticipation “You gonna tell me or what?”
“I need to fake date you, for friendship reasons I guess.” Obviously that stuns you, A girl you had a crush on for the past ten years of your life is suddenly asking you to fake date her. 
“What?” Your face contorts in a mix of surprise and confusion “Why me?”
“You're the only gay person I know, I’m trying to come out to them and they won't believe me till I date someone who fits their “Gay” vision” She sighs, her face portrays her obviously conflicted emotions. “Look its okay if you won't do it, You don't owe me anything especially since i abandoned you but at least sleep on it for me.”
She pauses, trying to read your face, noticing the slight differences in your eyes.
“I also needed to say sorry, I wasn't there when I promised I would be.” 
“I wont accept your apology for now, you need to earn my trust back, Megan.”
 You sigh at the dilemma, do you chose to help her with her fake dating thing, or do you leave her behind. 
“I’ll help you under one condition, We will stay friends afterwards.” 
You expect her to say no, the wavering tone in your voice saying so.
“Thank you so much, seriously I appreciate this. I owe you, N/n” She hugs you, Her scent lingering of fresh citrus and light berries. Her arms wrap around your waist, you instinctively wrap your arms around her shoulders.
“We need to figure out a plan for this whole situation.” You comment as you two break the hug, still feeling the lingering warmth of her. 
“Are you free this week to meet up?” 
“Tuesdays and Thursdays I meet up with my band, any other day we can meet up after school.”
“How about wednesday? I have practice, can you come watch and we can go somewhere after?” The thought of her friends seeing you makes your skin crawl as your reputation with these “Popular” people is not exactly great. Considering that you and Lara are the ones who stand up to Greg when he feels the need to degrade Yoonchae. You may or may not have gotten into some physical altercations with said Greg. 
“Sure, It’ll sell the idea that we are dating a bit more,” It’s a trade off that is worth it to make Megan happy. You shrug just as her phone rings, Her ringtone was not the same as the one you had remembered her to have. It had been her favourite song, Perfect Lover by Britney Spears. But now it's one of those default ones, Removing some of the personality from her.
“Yeah?"
"Oh, Okay."
"I’ll see you soon, Mom. Love you bye”
You can vaguely hear her moms voice throughout the quick phone call, her familiar tone isn't something you can forget easily. 
“You gotta go I assume?” you pick at your nails, “I can walk you home if you want?” You look up to her, trying to gauge her reaction through her body language. “Unless you dont want me to.. You know what forget i even said-”
“NO!” She suddenly cuts you off mid sentence “I mean, No” She clears her throat repeating her affirmation in a softer tone, “it’d be nice for my mom to see you again, She used to ask me about you all the time.” She presses her lips into a line, her face covered with embarrassment. 
“Lead the way,” You slightly smile at the thought that her mom still wondered where you had been all this time, She starts walking in the direction of her house. Making small talk to catch up on each others lives during the two years of absence, Your hands brushing together as you walk on the pavement.
“I missed you, you know that right?”
The smallness in her voice juxtaposes her usually large demeanour.
“I hoped you did,”
You chuckle slightly,
“I missed you too.”
“This is me,” she stops in front of the house you used to know, “You wanna stay for dinner? I mean you don't have to or anything.”
“Sure, It’ll be nice to say hi to your mom.” She leads you into her house, The recognisable scent of her moms cooking wafting into your nostrils. Filling your senses with memories of years prior. “Do we have to fake date in front of your mom aswell?” You tease her, Slipping off your shoes.
“Yeah, I guess so..” She replies nervously, just as her Mom wraps around the corner from the kitchen. “Hey, I brought home a special someone.” 
“Oh my gosh, YN! I didn't realise you were coming tonight for dinner.” She embraces you in a warm hug. “Feels like I haven't seen you in forever.” She lightly jabs at Megan with her elbow. 
“Just been busy with school work and college applications, you know how it is.” You lightly giggle at Megan’s mom’s actions. “Glad to see you Mrs. Skiendiel”
“Oh please, Yn. You know not to call me that, Just aunty is okay.” 
-
“Wow aunty, this is seriously delicious.” You moan as you wolf down the rice and pork on your plate. “I'm grateful that your cooking skills haven't deteriorated in the period I haven't seen you” You say in between bites.
“Im happy you like it, feel free to come over and eat when you want to, Honey” She chuckles
“Uhm Mom, We have something to talk about with you.” Megan’s words shift the energy at the table. You swallow your latest bite and glance at Megan, Giving her a reassuring look. 
“You guys are dating? I know, it's not that much of a shock.” Aunty takes the words out of Megan's mouth, “I've been patiently waiting when you two would realise your feelings for eachother. I have a standing bet with your mom, Yn.” She matter-a-factly comments,
“No funny business in my house alright?” 
“Yes aunty, I don't plan on doing anything with Megan till she's ready. Don't worry”
You try to clear the air quickly, Megan grabs your hand on the table. Interlocking her fingers with your ring clad ones, The slightly cold metal meeting her warm skin. The embarrassment of your words settling in with the two of you.
“I wouldn't dare hurt Megan, I hope you know that aunty.” You stupidly grin at her.
“I know, Yn. Just double checking, I know how you teenagers can be.” She lets out a deep sigh of relaxation. “I have some work to do. all I need you guys to do is the dishes, can you two handle that?” She squints her eyes at us, 
“Yeah, dont worry about it, Mom.” Megan stands and starts clearing the plates from the table, You follow her actions grabbing plates and silverware and bringing them to the sink in the kitchen. 
“I’ll be in the office working if you need me, Good night you two.” Megan’s Mom announces before the door closes.
“Oh my god i swear that was the most awkward i've been with your mom in forever.” You let out a deep sigh as you lean against the kitchen counter, Megan places down the rest of the dishes.
“Yeah no that was really awkward.” She giggles “Yes aunty i don't plan on doing anything with Megan till she's ready” She mockingly says in your tone of voice. You shove her shoulder lightly. 
“Come on lets finish the dishes, I rinse, you dry?” You stand over the sink, turn on the sink and scrub the dinner plates with a soapy sponge.
“Mhm, sounds like a solid plan” She hums, picking up the drying towel from the towel rack as you start to hand her some rinsed dishes. You cheekily smile to yourself as you get a devious idea. Megan is suddenly met with a warm splash of water from the sink head
“You did not just do that” She looks at you astonished, Mouth agape. “You little shit, Yn” 
“Such hurtful words require punishment” You giggle as you spray her with more water,
“What the fuck!” She squeals, feeling the water soak her shirt, “that's not fair, i don't have a sink to spray you too.” Suddenly it seems as Megan gets an idea for your payback.
“Come here, YN. Give me, your girlfriend, A hug. why don't you?” 
“No! I'm not gonna hug you, Meg. You gotta catch me first.” She roars with laughter as she chases after you in the kitchen. 
“Im gonna get you!” She loudly shouts, Running you into the corner of the kitchen.
“I’ve got you trapped now don't i?” She pants.
“I guess so, And what are you gonna do about it?”
You tease her, She pulls you into a wet hug “Eughhhh, it's so cold” You groan feeling her damp top spread the water on your shirt. She pulls away, Snickering at the sight of your now also damp shirt, 
“You get what's coming for you.”
“Can i atleast borrow a shirt or something?” You pull your shirt away from your chest to unstick it from your skin.
“Yeah, Come on. Let's go upstairs and dry off.” She grasps her hand with yours, Her nails graze your wrist. She drags you up the stairs into her room. You stare in awe, It looks similar to when you were last here but different at the same time.
“You took down the BTS posters?” You take a glance at her as she rummages through her closet for two shirts.
“Figured it was time to grow up i guess” She sighs and pulls out the shirts. 
“You sure it wasnt just your new friends pressuring you? Not that it really matters honestly, just curious.”
“Yes its fine, seriously, YN. I dont get whats your problem is right now, they were just posters.” She throws a purple oversized shirt at you.
“Just asking, No offence and all that” You exhale deeply, “Should i go to the bathroom and change or?” She just nods and you take that as your sign to leave the room.
You reenter the room and she's laying on her bed, Phone in hand. You knock on the door frame, she glances up then pats the side of the bed for you to sit down.
“Sorry by the way. Its not really my place to ask those types of questions.” You sit on the end of her bed.
“Its okay, I'm sorry too by the way. I overreacted a tad.” You observe as she hesitates to interlock hands, You take action as you interlock your pinkies together. 
"I guess i realized how much you've changed. And i guess i wasn't ready to fully realize it." You lay next to her, Brushing shoulders.
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soaps-mohawk · 2 hours ago
Text
Good Boy
Summary: He’s been such a good puppy. You want nothing more than to reward him on his special day. 
Pairing: Johnny x reader
Word Count: 5,527 words
Warnings: Pet play, mommy kink, puppy!Soap, sex toys, breeding kink, dom/sub dynamics, spanking (it’s like one), anal fingering, vaginal fingering, masturbation, oral sex (f receiving), p in v sex, lingerie, 
A/N: This is the first kinktober fic I wrote for this year, but I ultimately decided not to do a version for Kyle. It just fits Johnny perfectly and I’m honestly proud of it. Posted it on Patreon back in early October but decided to post it here for everyone to enjoy
MASTERLIST
You can hear the slight rattle of the kennel before you even have the front door closed. You take your time, kicking off your heels, placing your keys in the drawer, going to the kitchen to put the groceries away. Quiet, pathetic whining reaches your ears, the quiet scuff of movement on the plastic crate pan. He must have bunched his bed up again. 
Silly dog. 
You flip through the mail casually, tossing junk in the recycling and setting aside what you can only assume is a birthday card from your parents. The whining gets louder and more consistent. You let out a quiet sigh, tempted to open the card now and make him wait, but you'll be a good owner and give him the attention he's so desperate for. 
Poor thing has been locked up all day. 
Your feet pad quietly towards the living room, dress pants dragging quietly on the wood. You'll have to get these dry cleaned later. The whining gets louder as you approach, the metal exterior of the kennel rattling as he moves around in anticipation. 
You round the corner, pausing in the archway separating the living room from the hallway. Your dog, your sweet boy, is kneeling in his kennel, pressed up against the door in excitement. Tufts of hair stick through the top as he waits for you to scratch him through the bars like you always do. You can imagine his tail wagging happily, if he had one. 
“Did you miss me?” You ask, not moving towards the kennel. 
“Yes, mommy.” He whines, pressing harder against the cage, so hard his skin begins to push out between the gaps in the metal. 
You let out a sigh, finally approaching. “Stop it. You'll leave marks on your skin. You know mommy hates that.”
He lets out a whine, but does as he's told, moving away from the side of the cage, but he keeps his head pressed against the top. 
“Good boy.” You praise him, bending down to scratch his head through the bars. 
His hair is soft between your fingers. He'd had a mohawk when you picked him out and brought him home. You let him keep it, finding it endearing. It gives him character. Fits him perfectly. 
“Were you a good boy today?” You ask, pulling your hand away, bending down further, placing your hands on your knees. Your breasts push up, visible thanks to the few buttons you'd undone on your work shirt as you drove home from your after work errands. There's even a sliver of your bra showing. Blue, his favorite color. 
His eyes are trained on your breasts, licking his lips. His whole body is wiggling excitedly, his cock swinging between his legs, back and forth almost like a tail might. He's distracted, drool starting to drip out of his mouth just from the sight of your cleavage. 
To be fair, you had been denying him all week in preparation for today. 
You reach through the top of the cage again, fingers gripping his hair and tugging until his head is forced against the top of the kennel. “Mommy asked you a question.”
He lets out a pathetic whine, thick fingers curling between the thin metal bars at the top of the kennel. “Sorry mommy.” He pouts, giving you puppy eyes as he apologizes. You can't help but soften as those big blue eyes begin to glisten with tears. “I was the best boy today.” 
You hum, releasing his hair. You scratch his scalp as you eye the bed pushed against the back of the crate. “You messed your bed up.” His water and snack bowls are empty, shoved to the back of the crate with his bed. 
“Too excited.” He whines. 
You hum again, standing up straight. His eyes follow you, head shifting against the top of the cage. “Is my little pup excited about today?”
He nods, his fingers flexing on the metal bars. “Yes, mommy.”
“I got you a surprise.” You say, turning to the side table across from his kennel, digging the key from the drawer. “To celebrate.” 
“What is it?” He asks, getting excited again. 
“Well, that wouldn't make it much of a surprise, would it?” You tease, turning back to the kennel. 
He lets out an eager whine, leaning against the front of the cage. 
“Do you need to go potty?” You ask, bending down in front of the cage again. 
“Please mommy. Real bad.” He begs. 
You do feel bad. He has been locked up all day, and you had taken the time to run some errands after work. You've tried letting him have free reign of the house. It lasted a day. You'd come home from work to find him desperately humping your pillow, a pair of dirty panties he'd pulled from your laundry basket pressed against his nose. He'd made quite a mess, and so you had to go back to putting him in the crate every time you left. 
“Can you be a big boy and use the bathroom, or do we need to go outside?” You ask.
He whines as he thinks for a moment. “Bathroom, please.”
You hum, putting the key in the padlock that keeps him from opening the cage. It's more to keep him from escaping to romp around the house and make another mess. He wouldn't leave the house, though. He has no reason to. He can get out in the case of an emergency, but he's a good boy. He does as he's told...most of the time. 
You open the door to the crate, letting him crawl out. You turn the TV off as he takes a moment to stretch, joints creaking from being shut in the confined space. It's no small crate, the biggest you could find. Still, it doesn't leave him much room for moving around. 
You'll have to book him a massage this weekend. Get those muscles loosened up again. 
“Come on, pup.” You say, nudging him with your foot in the direction of the downstairs bathroom. “Let's go potty.”
He crawls on all fours towards the bathroom, slow going after being cooped up all day. You don't rush him, walking slowly behind him. The tags on his collar clink with every waddling shuffle on his hands and knees. 
He crawls into the bathroom and you turn on the light. He shifts up onto his knees, using the edge of the sink to pull himself onto his feet. You watch him as he stands, joints cracking again. He stretches, arms up over his head, the muscles in his back moving as he does. 
Sometimes you forget just how big he is. 
It's easy when he's crawling around on all fours to make him small in your mind. It's not until he's standing that you remember just how broad he is. 
5'11, roughly 200 pounds. That's what his profile said when you were searching for a new puppy. Your previous one had decided to leave, a mutual agreement. He had only been in training, and decided the lifestyle wasn't for him after all. 
You don't mind training pups. It can be quite fun, but you were ready for a more experienced puppy after him. 
That's when you came across Johnny. Soap, as his profile had said. A nickname given by a previous owner. You can only imagine what he'd done that earned him that nickname. 
His bio was thorough, and he'd even provided the reference of his previous owner. You were intrigued so you had messaged him, and agreed to meet. 
You liked him immediately. 
Friendly, excitable, already eager to please during your first conversation. You're sure he'd have gotten down on all fours and crawled across the coffee shop if you'd asked him to. 
His separation with his last owner had been rather traumatic and he needed someone to take control, someone who could handle him, his neediness, his clinginess, his intense libido and stamina. 
It had only taken three meetings and a test run for him to move into your house. 
He learned quickly, adapting to your rules very fast. It had been a pleasant surprise, finding such an eager pup in a Scottish bloke who looked more like he should be tossing logs at the Highland Games and not crawling around on your floor with a collar around his neck.
Your last pup had been more of a Greyhound, while Johnny, he’s more of a Rottweiler. Large and intimidating, but sweet and cuddly and so eager to please. 
Johnny lets out a sigh as he finally gets to relieve himself after a long day. You stand, leaning in the doorway, watching him as he shakes and then grabs toilet paper to wipe his tip. A proud smile tugs at your lips as he washes his hands thoroughly with soap and hot water. 
“Good boy.” You praise him as he drops back onto all fours. You run your fingers through his mohawk, letting the soft strands slip through your fingers. It’s getting long, you’ll have to trim it soon. “Come on, I’ve got a surprise for you.” 
He crawls behind you into the kitchen, watching as you move to the bag on the counter. He crawls closer, sitting back on his knees, watching you eagerly. You rip the tags off the toy in your hands, before turning to face him. 
“I got you an extra special toy for your birthday.” You hold out the stuffed squirrel to him. 
His eyes widen as he stares at it, sitting back fully on his knees as he reaches for it. It’s soft and fluffy and squeaks when you squeeze the middle. You’d spent almost half an hour at the pet store debating which you should get. You’d spent so long there a worker had approached, asking if you needed help and what kind of dog the toy was for. 
Great Dane, you’d told her, your go-to answer when buying things for your pup. 
She’d recommended the squirrel, and you could hardly say no. It was perfect, and judging by the way Johnny is clutching it to his chest, he thinks so too. 
“I also got you a meat stick.” You say, pulling the long beef stick from the grocery bag. “So you can have something to chew on.” You say, pulling off the wrapper. 
“Thank you, mommy.” He says, taking the beef stick between his teeth. 
You watch him crawl to the corner of the dining room where his bed sits. He makes himself comfortable, stretched out on the soft, plush bed, his new squirrel tucked under his arm as he chews on his meat stick. 
You jump into making one of his favorite dinners while he’s occupied. While you’ve never been quite brave enough to try your hand at haggis, Johnny never complains about scotch pies. You turn on some quiet music while you work, eyes flickering to Johnny every so often. He’s content in the corner, making quick work of the meat stick. 
You take your time cooking, Johnny lazing with his squirrel in his arms. You stare at his cock as you mix ingredients, more thick than it is long as it drapes between his legs. There’s a heat growing between your own legs as you stare at him. He’s spread out on the bed, legs stretching straight out after being cooped up in the kennel all day. You make a quick note on the calendar. He needs a spa day this weekend. So will you after tonight. 
You jump as a hand grips your leg, weight settling against you. Johnny is leaning against your hip, big hand wrapped around your thigh. It’s slowly creeping higher, as if you wouldn’t notice it snaking up your inner thigh. 
You tsk at him, shifting out of his hold. “That’s not good boy behavior.” 
He lets out a whine, trying to move closer to you. “Sorry mommy. Need you bad.” 
“You need your strength, baby boy. You haven’t eaten since breakfast.” You run your hand over his head. You do leave him plenty of snacks to tide him over on days you have to go into the office. It’s always a big dinner night on those days to make up for his lack of lunch. 
He lets out a disappointed whine but he knows your right. He’s always a good boy, always so eager to please you and behave. He crawls back to his bed, cock swinging between his legs. Your teeth sink into your lip as you watch him go, rubbing your thighs together as you shift on your feet. It’s going to be a long evening for you too. 
You plate up dinner for him, gently easing him back into his human brain for the moment as you remove his collar. Usually you make him eat on the floor out of his bowl, but this is a special occasion. You grab the card from the counter as you carry the plates to the table. 
“Smells good.” He says, his voice lower and rougher than it is when he’s in his puppy mindset. His accent is thicker too, almost like he becomes an entirely new person. Well...he does. The whiny, needy puppy is gone, hidden well beneath the surface of a normal human man. 
“My parents sent a card.” You say, sliding it across the table to him as you take a seat. 
“That was nice of them.” He says, picking it up and opening it. 
He reads it to you, full of well wishes and congratulations. Your parents have met him a few times, though they only know him as your boyfriend. They’ll never know about the other side of your relationship, the side where your giant Scottish boyfriend crawls around on all fours wearing a collar and occasionally a butt plug with a silicone tail attached. 
To your parents he’s just a normal man. To you, he’s your good little puppy. 
The two of you chat as you eat, talking about work and your coworkers and the annoying woman at the shop that was arguing with the cashier. It’s all so domestic, all so...normal. 
You almost prefer him on the floor on his knees begging for scraps. 
He sneaks up behind you while you’re doing dishes, his arms wrapping around you. You can feel the bulge of his quickly hardening cock against your ass, his hands sliding up your stomach towards your breasts. 
“This isn’t good boy behavior.” You say, but you don’t stop him as his hands cup your breasts through your shirt. 
You’ve fucked a few times like this, both of you in your normal mindsets. You let him be more dominant, let him get that energy out before he submits to you again. He’s a good fuck, knows what he’s doing. Knows exactly how to work you up. 
“You’re going to ruin your surprise.” You say, yet you can’t stop yourself from pushing back against him as his thumbs brush over your nipples through your shirt. The skimpy bra you’re wearing doesn’t offer much coverage or protection from his fingers. 
“Sorry mommy.” He growls in your ear, grinding against your ass. 
The deep growl in his voice has a shiver running down your spine. You should stop this before it gets much further, but part of you is tempted to let him have this moment, let him celebrate his birthday in both mindsets. 
“Easy, puppy boy.” You say, pushing his hands away from your breasts. You turn around, dragging a wet finger over his lips. “Be a good boy and behave yourself and you can have your surprise after I’m done.” 
The change happens instantly, his eyes lighting up as he shifts back into his puppy mindset. He drops to his knees in front of you, eye to eye with your pussy but he behaves himself, holding still as you move to grab his collar. You stare down at the fabric one with the plastic clip, the one he wears while you’re gone in case he needs to get out of it fast. You want his leather one tonight. 
You clip the collar around his neck for now before going back to the dishes. He crawls back to his bed, laying himself down on his stomach. You watch him carefully out of the corner of your eye to make sure he’s not rutting against the bed like a bad dog. 
Dishes go by quickly as you set them in the drying rack, catching movement out of the corner of your eye. Unsurprisingly Johnny is in the corner, humping his bed, trying to relieve some of the ache that probably has his cock pulsing. You let out a sigh before approaching, bringing your hand down against his ass, the perky cheek bouncing. He lets out a yowl, his hips bucking into the bed. 
“You’re being a bad boy.” You say as he turns around, cock weeping with precum. There’s a damp spot on the fabric of his bed, but you know he hasn’t cum. Not yet. He knows better. 
“Sorry Mommy.” He pouts, but he can’t cute his way out of this one. 
You slip your fingers under the front of his collar, tugging him forward gently. “Bad boys get punished.” 
He lets out a whine, trying to give you big puppy eyes but they don’t work. You’ve long grown immune to that stare. 
“Come on.” You say, moving to the drawer to pull out a leash. He crawls towards you, sitting back on his knees to allow you to clip the leash onto his collar. He is a good boy, he just can’t control himself sometimes. 
Not with his insane libido. 
You walk him to the stairs, taking them slow as you lead him up to the second floor. He picks up his pace on the carpet, following you eagerly into the bedroom. He dutifully sits on his knees next to the bed, watching you as you unclip his collar. You pull the leather one from the drawer, the one you made specially for him, the one with his name stamped on the side. 
Johnny. 
He tilts his head back as you put it on him, slipping two fingers under to make sure it’s not too tight. You turn back to the drawer, pulling out the box. He shifts on his knees, already knowing what’s coming. 
“Bend over.” You say, pulling out the lube. He shifts himself onto the bed immediately, bending himself over the side. You squirt some lube over his ass, letting it run down over his hole. “Get yourself ready.” 
“Yes mommy.” He doesn’t hesitate as he reaches a hand back, gathering lube on his finger before pressing it into his hole. He groans, pushing his face against the bed as he works his finger in, opening himself up. You watch him fuck himself with his finger, adding a second one to open himself up. The plug isn’t huge, but you want him to be prepared. 
You spread lube on the plug before you pat his ass gently and he pulls his fingers from his hole. You squirt more lube over his hole before you press the tip of the plug against his ass. He clenches as you begin to push it in, a whiny moan leaving his lips. He’s staining the comforter with precum, but that’s what washing machines are for. 
It won’t be the only stain on the bed by the time you’re done with him. 
You slide the plug into place, the silicone tail perky in the air. He wiggles his hips, the tail wagging back and forth. 
You hum, pleased by the sight. “My cute little puppy.” You praise him before grabbing the fluffy ears from the box. You’ve always preferred them over the more traditional mask. You want to see his cute face as you make him beg to cum. 
He slides off the edge of the bed, sitting back on his knees. A breathy moan leaves his lips as the plug shifts inside him, the tail moving as he clenches around it. His cock is bright red and hard, and you’re sure you could see it pulsing with need if you looked close enough. You put the ears on him, stepping back to stare at him. 
What a beautiful sight he makes. 
“You were a bad boy.” You say as you close the box, moving it off the bed. “Humping your bed like a needy little pup.” 
“Am a needy pup.” He whines, hips bucking the air in desperation. 
“Naughty pups deserve punishment.” You ignore his words, moving to stand in front of him at the end of the bed. “You only get to watch.” 
His eyes widen as you begin to unbutton your shirt, revealing the lacy bra underneath. Your nipples pebble in the cool air as you untuck your shirt, undoing the last buttons before slipping it off your shoulders. You toss it on the floor before undoing your pants, sliding them down your legs. He lets out a whine as your lacy panties are revealed, blue just like your bra. He shifts on his knees again as you sit yourself on the edge of the bed, spreading your legs. 
The lace is damp from your arousal, darkening the fabric. He licks his lips as you rub your damp slit over the lace. He loves lace, the sight of it enough to make his cock leak. He can cum untouched like a needy teenager if you get him worked up enough. You're tempted to do it, make him cum all over himself before he gets to touch you. 
That feels like too much of a reward. 
“You don't cum until mommy does.” You command, moving the lace to the side to drag a finger through your slit. 
He licks his lips, watching your shiny juices smear all over your skin as you rub your hand over your pussy. He’s enraptured, forgetting himself as he stares at your fingers and the way you spread yourself open for him to see. You’re doing it on purpose, goading him and distracting him to make him forget himself. All the more sweet torture for him. 
You stop your hand, covering your pussy from his sight. “I gave you an order.” You say, your voice stern. 
“Yes, mommy.” He stutters out, eyes still glued between your legs. “Don’t cum until ye do.” 
“Good boy.” You praise him, opening your legs wider. 
You circle your clit with a finger as you stare at him, those big blue eyes locked in on your hand between your legs. He’s picturing himself doing it, his fingers dragging through your folds, smearing your slick everywhere. You can tell by the way his fingers twitch where they rest on his thighs. He wants to taste you so badly he might start drooling soon. 
You won’t let him have it yet, sliding your hand down to press a finger into your pussy. You moan softly as you work your finger in, knowing you’ll need to prepare yourself regardless to take his thick cock. You can take it without preparation, but he’s far too eager to be gentle tonight, to take his time. 
You slip a second finger into your pussy, your head falling back as you fuck yourself with your fingers. Johnny shifts on his knees, hands curling into fists where they rest on his thighs. The wet sound fills the air as you thrust your fingers in and out, toes curling. You’ve been waiting for this as much as he has, your pussy throbbing for the last hour now. Still you pull your fingers from your pussy before you can cum, resting them against your inner thigh, spreading juices on your skin. Johnny is drooling now, his chin wet as his mouth hangs open just slightly. You can’t help but chuckle as you stare at him. 
Needy thing. 
You push yourself back up, staring at his cock for a moment. It looks painful, the nice side of you wanting to take pity on him, have mercy. This night is about him after all. It is his birthday. 
“Come here and make me cum.” You say, holding the lace out of the way. 
He doesn't hesitate as he crawls forward, immediately pressing his face against your folds. His tongue darts out, licking at your damp lips like the eager pup he is. He flicks his tongue over your clit, your stomach clenching at the warm sensation. He holds your gaze as he licks and sucks at your clit, slurping sloppily at the sensitive numb. Your lips are parted as you pant and moan, your hand lifting to grip his mohawk, pressing him harder against your pussy. He doesn’t complain, slick wetting his skin as he suckles at your clit, the sensations almost too much. 
“Gonna cum...” You moan. “Make mommy cum!”
He sucks harder at your clit, flicking it with his tongue over and over. You cum quickly, thighs squeezing around his head. Your hips grind against his face, your hand tightening in his mohawk, holding him in place. 
“Fuck....” You moan, his tongue still working at your clit, pushing you towards overstimulation. 
You have to tug him away from your pussy, your body shaking from the near overstimulation. His face is shiny, his mouth still parted as he stares up at you. You press your fingers against his tongue, his lips closing around them, licking the remnants of your juices off them. 
“Stand up.” You say, pulling your fingers free. 
He does as he’s told, standing over you. His cock is right in front of you, hard and throbbing. You spit on your hand before you wrap your fingers around him, smearing your spit all over his length. He groans, his hips thrusting as you begin to move your hand, jerking him off. 
“Gonna cum for mommy?” You ask, precum dripping around his foreskin. 
“Gonnae cum.” He moans, hips thrusting in time with your hand. “Don’t stop, please!” 
You don’t have any plans to, picking up the pace of your hand as you stare up at him. His cum is hot as it splatters against your chest, painting your skin as he moans low and deep. You pump him through his orgasm, milking every last drop out of him. He’s nowhere near done for the night, cock still hard in your hand. 
You release him, leaning back on the bed again. “You made quite the mess, pup. Clean it up.” 
He drops to his knees in front of you, leaning forward over you. His arms wrap around you as he begins to lick his cum from your skin. His tongue is warm as it trails over your skin, lapping at the streaks of cum across your chest, making sure to get every last drop of it. He follows the trail of it down to your stomach, stopping to suck at one of your nipples through the lace. You let him do it, moaning softly at the sensation. He trails his lips down your body to your thighs, licking up his cum as he goes. 
He tries to push your thighs apart but you tsk at him, nudging him gently with your foot. “I’ve got something better for you.” You sit up straight on the edge of the bed, putting you nearly face to face with him. You grip him by the collar, pulling him up so you can stare into his eyes, your breath mixing with his. “I want you to breed me.” 
“What?” He breathes, the puppy brain slipping just for a moment. 
He goes still, his eyes widening. He searches your face for a moment, looking for any sign of hesitation or even a sign of mirth as you tell him you’re joking. You’re not. You rarely let him cum inside you, usually making him finish on your stomach before making him clean you up. He likes it too much, stuffing you full of his cum. You usually save it for special occasions like this one. 
You pull away as you shift on the bed, kneeling on the edge before bending down, arching your back to push your ass into his face. “You heard me. Be a good boy and breed me.” 
“Screaming Jesus.” He curses before rising to his feet, his hand falling to your hip. 
He slips his cock under your panties, thrusting it through the lace and your damp folds for a moment. You moan softly as his head catches on your clit, your hips pushing back against him. You've been thinking about this all day. It had been a rough day at work as your mind was only filled with thoughts of his cock inside of you. The temptation to slip into the bathroom and rub one out had been strong, but you didn't want to make things harder for you or him. 
You arch your back more as he pulls his cock back, pressing his tip against your hole. The comforter bunches as your hands sink into the fabric, holding on for dear life as his thick cock presses into you. You moan as he stretches you, rocking his hips to sink deeper and deeper. The stretch is always delicious, his cock like a bonus reward for choosing him as your puppy. Not just that, he knows how to use it. 
He folds himself over your back as soon as he’s seated inside you, beginning to rut his hips against your ass. His hands come to rest by your head, pushing himself deeper inside of you. 
“Fuck...that’s it puppy.” You moan, squeezing around him as he continues to rut into you like an eager pup. 
He is an eager pup. 
Your hands grip his wrists for support as his cock drags against that spot inside of you with every movement of his hips. He picks up the pace, his hips slapping against your ass. You’re the one almost drooling now as he rocks your body with his thrusts. He shifts, his knees coming to rest beside yours on the bed, pushing himself deeper into you. 
“God, fucking yes!” You moan, squeezing around his cock. 
He’s close, grunting in your ear as he ruts against you. You can picture his tail flopping back and forth, wagging excitedly as he finally fucks you after weeks of denying him your pussy. 
“Mommy. Mommy.” He moans desperately. “Please, can I cum? Please let me cum.” 
“Cum for me puppy.” You moan as his thrusts become sloppy and desperate. “Be a good boy and cum in me.” 
His cum is warm as it spurts into you, his hips jerking before stilling as he spills into you with a whine. His cock is twitching inside of you, spilling the last of his cum before he pulls out. He moves off of your back, gripping your waist before he flips you over onto your back. You can’t find it in you to reprimand him for manhandling you, one of the rare moments he’ll take control while still in his puppy brain. 
“Gonnae breed ye mommy.” He grunts, slotting his body between your thighs. You haven’t cum yet and he knows that. “Gonnae fill ye right up till ye burst.” 
Fuck. 
You can’t do anything but moan as he shoves your panties to the side again, thrusting right into you before very much of his cum slips out of you. He fucks it back into you, his pace fast and hard. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down against you. You can see the tip of his tail flicking back and forth from the force of his thrusts, your legs shaking as you grip his collar. 
“Such a good boy.” You moan, thighs squeezing around his hips. “Such a good puppy for mommy.” 
“‘M yer good boy.” He moans, pressing his face into your neck. “Good puppy for mommy.” 
“Gonna make me cum?” You whine, getting closer and closer to the edge with every slap of his hips against your clit. He’s close again, whining as you squeeze around him. 
“Please,” He whines, his pace stuttering. “Please cum mommy.” 
You can hardly deny him as your back arches, body shaking as you cum around him. Your limbs coil around him like a snake, holding him in you as your fluttering walls force another orgasm from him. He spills into you again, spurting more cum into your pussy. You moan at the feeling, reaching up to pet his damp mohawk. He’s shaking over you, tail vibrating in the air. The night is far from over, his cock already growing hard inside of you again. 
You’re going to call in the morning and book those spa days. 
You continue to pet his hair as he grinds against you, humping you like a needy puppy. You press your face against the side of his, lips brushing his ear as you pant against his sweaty skin. 
“Good boy.” 
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inquisimail · 1 day ago
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dai love interests' letters to the inquisitor in veilguard, if anyone was curious to see them. transcriptions in alt text & under cut
Amatus,
I'm writing. Again. Yes, the sending crystals still work and yes, you'll be in Minrathous in a few short weeks. But a letter, written in blind longing, is real. It can be touched, and it can be held, when ink and paper must substitute for your skin on mine and my breath in your ear.
I used to scoff at frequent declarations of affection. Trite, I thought. Save them for rare and precious moments. But time and love are no longer things I care to squander, especially not as we race again toward calamity. And so, in each of these fleeting, ephemeral seconds, I will tell you that I love you. Whether penned or spoken, or conveyed by glance or action, I love you. In this moment, and in all the moments to come, for as long as they do, I love you.
I will find you soon.
Yours, Dorian
---
My love,
You have summoned me to Minrathous, and I will answer your call, as soon as responsibilities here in the South allow. I have missed being by your side.
Will these troubles be the last we face? The world seems always to conspire, through duty or disaster, to pull you away from me. I do not resent it. You are dedicated to purposes far larger and more significant than myself. I hope you do not think me a fool for hoping that one day, your only concern will be the color you wish our walls to be painted, or the flowers we will plant beside our gate. I'm partial to carnations.
Yours always, Thom
---
My love,
We are no strangers to duty, or the separation it demands of us. You head for Tevinter, and though I want to go with you, there is work we both must do. I will not falter in the tasks that wait before me and I pray my actions, in whatever measure they can, will keep you safe.
The others see only confidence in my resolve, but you have always known more than mere appearance. I confess to you, and you alone, that I am afraid. I'm afraid of what may happen, that Thedas will face such turmoil as it did before. I know not what awaits us. Yet even in the face of uncertainty, there are two things I cannot doubt and never will. The first is that our paths are never separated long. That I will find you at my side when I need you, as you will find me at yours. I will play my part in this and follow as soon as I can.
The second thing I never doubt is you. Whatever lies before you, trust yourself. Trust your heart as I trust it. It will not lead you astray.
Yours, Cassandra
---
Hey, Kadan,
Not the first time we've marched toward different battles. I know you're keeping the crap from catching fire up in Tevinter. Wish I could be there, but I'll make sure there's a world for you to come back to when you're done dealing with crazy vints and stupid Antaam and whatever other crap Solas kicked up. (Shit, the Antaam. Remember when I was worried what would happen if I went tal-vashoth? That right there!)
I know you're gonna be careful, and you've got Morrigan there. Just take care of yourself. If anything happens to you, I'm going to have to take Krem and the Chargers and stomp across all of Tevinter to come get you. It'll be a whole thing, and you know it'll upset Dorian.
Being apart from you made me realize something else. I spent so long being whatever the Ben-Hassrath wanted me to be. An investigator. An agent. A mercenary sending reports. These past years, since the Inquisition ended, I've been able to be just what I want to be.
And what I really want to be is yours. I like the person I am when I'm with you.
So come back safe.
Love, The signature appears to be a stylized rendering of the Iron Bull's head.
---
(An artistically doodled journal page presumably from the Inquisitor's partner, Sera.)
Keep this as close as I need you. (A drawing of a pile of flowers, with lines like it's moving, an arrow pointing to it labeled "us.")
North again, Mini-wrathus still stuck up its own pucker.
Magiturds are scared of us. They don't even know.
We work with Maevaris, right? She's wow.
So many Friends! Jennies in all the walls!
We kill him this time. He took from us twice! (A drawing of a cracked egg scribbled out, with "can't even joke" in letters that tore the page.)
Still thinking of you sideways.
Never mind the Dalish, here's the Veil Jumpers! Tempest-kin! (A drawing of a tall, shorthaired elf (Sera?) and Irelin brandishing two fingers, backflipping as a tree explodes in runes.)
The memory thing makes my head spin. If that Rook doesn't take it, throw it out.
Tell Morrigan ppbbth! for me.
I'll also tell her ppbbth! She knows why.
Tell them to Stripe. Him. Up. I wanted more books. (More heavy scribbles that tear.)
You meet; I'll keep you safe. Then I'm your time off, and you're my time on.
(The last section has different colored inks, like Sera has returned to it several times.)
New naked names: -Sweet-tits (scribbled out) -Bestest (scribbled out) -Loverly (scribbled out) -Lovey (scribbled out) -My-for-always-and-ever - name's not too long, time's too short. -But "Sweet-tits," though (scribbled out)
---
The top of the letter has been punctured by small, sharp teeth, leaving most of a beloved name and a few sentences too chewed to read.
I fear the puppy started on this letter shortly after I did. I'd start over, but I must send this tonight if it's to reach you. Matters are settled here and I make for Tevinter as soon as possible.
I almost believed chaos might spare us this time. I can't say I wished to see Minrathous before now, but I am eager to see you. I long to see your face and know that you're all right. You are— I've— There's— I wish that I was better at putting into writing all that's in my mind. For now, simply know that I love you. It is the most cherished constant of my life.
The days ahead will not be easy. I know there's much you carry, more than many realize. But whatever you must face, you will not meet it alone. You have my sword, my counsel, my—I could write this list forever when all I mean to say is this—
Whatever you need of me, I am yours.
Cullen
---
My Dearest Lady, / My Dearest Lord,
I have spoken to friends in Minrathous. They offer us their hospitality, not to mention shelter from the worst intrigues of the Archon's Palace. While you're well acquainted with the roving eyes of grand courts, please take care. Tevinter's regard can be the oldest and cruelest of them all.
The family writes the weather back home is beautiful. I do miss our quiet times together.
There is a question I've wanted to ask you for so long. I would like to pretend I have been busy, or it was not the proper time. But, if I am being honest, I only waited because I have been afraid of choosing a poor moment. Please, let me make a promise to you here.
When we return to Antiva, I will ask you, on the steps of the estate, if you will do me a great honor. And I dream you will say yes.
Always yours, Josephine
Postscript: I cannot believe it nearly slipped my mind. Yvette and Lord Otranto send their best wishes, and hope to see us back home in time to welcome their third child.
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squad-724 · 2 days ago
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Oof I’ve had a couple rough weeks at uni, have padmecker artwork I’ve been slowly working on. It’s an illustration for a short fic of the two of them, a twin piece to @electrikworm ’s fic
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“There.” Padmé sighed as she put down the stylus, a moment ago used to correct the few words of her next speech on the Senatorial Ball she was organizing with Bail and Riyo to warm her colleagues up to the clones. A small tactic to make them look more sentient and humanoid than what they officially were written as in the law. One step closer to the bill that would recognise them as citizens of the Republic.
She straightened up in her seat, her back cracking in a few places, making her wince. No matter how much the chair cost, five hours of no movement will make her body ache. And because of the non-stop debates in the rotunda she had no time to prepare it earlier; the ball was the next day.
Padmé took her time, finishing sipping the cold caf she got delivered back when there was still sunlight, watching the lights of the Planet That Never Slept flicker in the distance. She knew how they looked up close, both on the triple zero and in lower levels she so rarely visited; only going there for her rare dates that she still had to hide from the public. If the media learned about her relationship with a clone, the whole rights bill could be compromised.
Sometimes she didn't care, wishing to be able to take Wrecker to one of the fancy restaurants, let him taste all the amazing foods she could get him, to walk around in broad daylight, visit museums and opera. She wished she could spoil him as much as he deserved.
But it would have to wait. Padmé knew she would make sure he and his brothers could soon walk around as fully free citizens.
“You done?” The senator almost jumped out of her seat as a male voice came from the doors to her office space.
“On the moons Anakin you scared me,” Padmé let out a sigh of relief, and the jedi laughed at her reaction. “What are you still doing here, you were supposed to leave hours ago.”
“Eeeh, I think I should give Rex a little room to breathe. He almost strangled me after I threw him down that hole two days ago.”
“And you don't want to spend the night on observation with Kix.”
“And I don't want to spend the night on observation with Kix, and Rex WILL rat me out in an act of revenge.” He walked over to her balcony doors, grabbing one of the donuts she kept on her desk, her favorite one she kept for last. “I'll sleep at Snip’s new apartment, apparently she got a great deal from the landlady that had a good family history with the Order, and didn't need a down payment. I'll see you at the ball.” He waved her goodbye and jumped down the balcony. Padmé knew he called R2 to come pick him up, just as all the times he decided to have that dramatic of an exit. One day he would fall and break his neck, and that would be karma for stealing the best donuts.
There was nothing more Padmé wanted than to sleep. But she desperately needed to shower, and knew Clone Force 99 was about to enter the Coruscanti atmosphere in a few moments.
She met the squad only a few months back, the four clones called as her escort during a mission. At first she was surprised at the differences from normal troopers, but soon learned about their mutations and special enhancements that were made to them.
Each one of them was unique and interesting, but it was Wrecker who caught her eye, his eyes that kept looking at her with awe when he thought she didn't notice, but also the difference between his pure show of power in opposition of how gentle he was with her.
He had that charm and authenticity that all her previous suitors lacked, speaking his mind and not carefully picking lines of dialogue they practiced before each meeting. He was himself at all times, and who he was was a man of big heart. And Padmé couldn't deny him the beautiful musculature and tanned skin.
And now, after three weeks of a comms-out mission, he and his brothers were coming for a personal debrief with commander Cody, and to crash at her flat for a few days.
She already stocked her fridge with food, readied her three guest rooms with a fresh set of beddings and towels. Yeah maybe she was playing favorites with that, but no one deserved being pampered like these four. Especially Wrecker.
As she waited for the clones to arrive she took a quick shower and brushed her teeth, finally getting rid of the acidic aftertaste of caf on an empty stomach. Once she put on her face mask, she got a ping on her datapad reading “Be there in 5 ;)”.
Padmé got her droid to brew some tea when the doorbell rang out. All of her sleepiness evaporates in an instance when she runs to the door.
She isn't done opening them properly before a massive set of hands hauls her off the floor and into a spinning hug that ends with a keldabe kiss.
“Hi sweetheart,” Padmé breathes out, looking into Wrecker's mismatched eyes. She locks her hands around his neck, pulling him close into a proper kiss. Oh how she missed it.
“Ekhm, we're still in the doorway love doves,” a snarky voice brings them back into reality, Wrecker laughing as he moves deeper into the apartment, letting his brothers in. “Great. I'm taking the bathtub first.” A few voices of protest ring out as Crosshair bolts to the refresher.
“Sorry for the wait, there were some issues with the docking system and they didn’ want to let us down to the planet.” Wrecker finally let Padmé down, putting his bag down soon after.
“Not your fault, I just barely finished my job anyways, didn't have to wait for long.” She stood on her tiptoes to land another kiss on her boyfriend’s scarred cheek, making him blush. No matter how many times she did it, the giant clone got red after signs of any affection.
“Thanks for letting us stay,” Hunter all but collapsed on the couch, cup of freshly brewed tea in hand. He looked a little roughed up, his cheek covered in a fresh dressing, left eye sporting a bruise. “I don't think I could survive another night bunking on the ship with those three idiots.”
Padmé laughed as a choir of three voices raised up with a complaint. She sipped her herbal tea. She had missed this.
Not just Wrecker, but his whole family. How much life they brought to this otherwise empty apartment. The sound of bickering during breakfast preparation, doors opening and closing when they left for the town, repetitive whirring coming from Tech's room, muted music from Crosshair's.
“I am completely exhausted, so I'll be waiting for you in bed. I don't want to smell ANY grease or pickled feet when you join, so take a bath beforehand.” Padmé smooched Wrecker one last time, putting down her cup next to the dishwasher, before she wished the clones goodnight and retreated into her own bedroom.
As much as she complained about the costs of her sheets to Sabé, in moments like these every single credit spent on them seemed worth it. She slipped under the covers, sighing softly as the pain in her back quieted down just a little bit. She had to wake up in the morning for the last dress try on, and then get her hair done before the ball. How lucky she was that a highly experienced squad of troopers was available as her security for the event.
Padmé felt herself fall asleep just as the mattress next to her dipped significantly. Wrecker put his calloused hand on her back, sneaking it under her shirt and drawing slow circles in between her shoulder blades.
“Mmm I really need to sleep my dear, we will have the whole night to ourselves tomorrow.” she murmured into her pillow, relaxing her back under the soft pressure of his palm.
“Then sleep cyar’ika.” The trooper whispered, drawing his thumb up and down her spine, kneading the locked up muscles into relaxation. Padmé knew how firm they must have felt, and let her boyfriend smooth them out as they slowly fell into a rhythm.
“Does anything else hurt?” Padmé could feel his warm breath on her cheek. She could deny it, let him lay down next to her. But, it felt so nice to be taken care of like that.
“Right arm, think I was holding my stylus too tightly.” She didn't even open her eyes as she turned on her side, reaching out the hurting limb.
With a gentleness a man of his frame seemed incapable of, Wrecker took it, moving it to face the palm up, and began massaging it too.
He started with her finger, so delicate and small in the embrace of his giant ones. Each one was delicately pinched in between his pointer finger and thumb, joints muscles and tendons kneaded into relaxation.
Then came the palm, painfully wiry, with the muscles tensed and coiled from the long hours of no rest. Wrecker's fingers carefully massaged them, and Padmé let out a few hisses of pain before these too relaxed into comfy hums as her boyfriend helped her with the pain.
She thought it would be it, but he continued the comforting movements on her forearm, now his actions bringing her more of a relaxing effect rather than purely pain relivement.
Wrecker arms continuously moved his hands up and down her forearm, drawing circles with his thumbs, making her back shiver with pleasure. She didn't even realize how wiry her muscles got until he made them relax, his fingers digging into knots deep into her limb.
“How did you learn to do this?” She murmured, her voice partially muted by the pillow she was laying on. Wrecker’s mismatched eyes didn't leave her arm, but she definitely saw the slight smirk under his nose.
“All of us got some pains a massage helps with. I was the first to need them, my growing pains making my whole body ache until I couldn't move. That's when Tech found some texts on holonet to teach me so I could do them before sleep. Then it turned out that Hunter's migraines can be lessened if you relieve the pressure on the neck,” Wrecker's pressure on Padmé's arm became weaker and weaker, his body slowly sumping to the side. “Tech tends to fall asleep on the pilot seat and next to his workbench, and I deal with his back afterwards.”
The senator gently pulled her boyfriend to lay down, his heavy body hitting the mattress. He didn't say anything, but let out a hum of comfort, wriggling closer to her, wrapping his arms around her much smaller waist. He was very warm, making Padmé shiver.
“Mmm, I'm glad you're here.” she settled her forehead just above his heart, taking comfort in the sound of the beat. Strong, just like him.
“Wish I could stay,” one of his arms moved to the base of her skull, gently scratching her hair bulbs, often sore from the extravagant hairstyles she wore on a daily basis. The hair and dresses, what she was most known for. A beauty of Naboo, queen and senator Amidala whose spirit never yielded. Just like her looks she never did anything halfway, giving her everything into how she presented herself as how she protected the innocents of the Republic.
But there she was, her hair in disarray, wearing an old t-shirt and underwear that has been for sweet release of the trash bin for months, and Wrecker was here, calling her beautiful in the pure darkness, his arms a comforting weight. Here, she was Padmé Naberrie, spending one of her rare moments with a man that found her beauty not in the make-up, dresses or jewelry, but her genuine laugh, lacking cooking skills, and the ability to stand her ground to help him and his brothers become people in the eyes of law.
He would protect her planet, while she secured his future.
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Thank you Manhattan for edits and beta reading!
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sad-girl-hours23 · 19 hours ago
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Thinking about Buck,
Still not over Tommy, deeply unsatisfied being under anyone else (he's tried and lost count how many times). His best friend has moved away; he's happy Eddie's working things out with Chris, but he misses them both terribly.
Amongst every one else, he feels...not so much a divide, but maybe less enmeshed than they used to be.
Nothing's wrong with his job, but well, it's starting to feel a lot less like his whole life and purpose and more like just that: a job. He's stagnant. Stuck.
He feels an itch under his skin that he can't scratch in any of his usual ways.
He's over pouring out his love into a Kitchen aid mixer. He's done trying to bury his need for connection into hook-ups.
Realizes maybe he's not as settled as he thought he was. Maybe he's still searching; but for what, he doesn't know. Himself. His purpose. Love.
Realizes he misses not being stuck in one place.
So he takes a vacation. Spends two weeks in Japan. Tells himself he won't create a full itinerary for his time there (he spends most of his flight doing so anyway, but he compromises with himself and leaves his second week open).
He reads about the Wind Phone. How people travel from all over to talk to their late loved ones through a rotary phone.
He doesn't go his first week there, but the thought of it is never far from his mind. (He's held hands with Death, he isn't sure what he's so afraid of).
He gets to the garden of Bell Gardia.
He thinks about Red Delacroix, who warned him against making firefighting his whole life. “You can be the hero and save lives, but don’t neglect having your own. Last thing you want is to be at the end holding nothing but regrets.” So he talks to Red; tells him he hasn't quite figured it out, is scared he never will.
He comes back the next day, Thomas on his mind. Buck tells him how he found his scrapbook the other day (he had forgotten that he'd even taken it). He tells him about Tommy, the love he thought he finally found (then lost). He smiles. "I know, I know. You don't find it, you make it." He can't help the crack in his voice "I really thought we were."
Buck wonders what it says about him that he's spending his vacation talking to dead. Knows he's not done yet
He comes back the next day, and the day after that, and the one after that. He talks to Daniel each time. He isn't quite sure how to picture him; the age he was in the last photos taken of him, the age when he died, the older Daniel that his coma dream imagined up? He talks to them all.
He gives him the abridged version of his life. Wonders if he should leave out the parts he knows would break his brother's heart, leaves them in anyway. It's cathartic; to confess of the survivor's guilt he's carried since learning of Daniel, how it all came flooding back when woke up from his coma, how it felt like he was letting him down again in the interest of his own survival.
He's certain he's out of tears, and he may not have a voice left by the end of his trip.
But he's got one more phone call to make. And he can't make it here, in this haunted phone booth. And he doesn't want to wait until it's too late.
He hasn't figured it all out. He doesn't know where him and Tommy went wrong. He knows they're both haunted by their own ghosts.
But Tommy's still here. And unlike Buck's ghosts on the other end of the phone, he can talk back.
So Buck does what he should have done months ago. He calls Tommy. He nearly sobs in relief when he hears a breath on the other end and a quiet, "Evan?"
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keelt9 · 2 days ago
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Chapter 13
Masterlist
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It took Max’s manager and me around 10 minutes to get him into the jet, by the time we arrived at the airfield it was supposed they must be in Milton Keynes.
I lied to him, telling him I was fine, just maybe a little bit dizzy; he tried to insisted he wanted to wait for Mika or Thomas came to pick me but I calm him down saying <I will be fine.>
Mika and Thomas arrived 30 minutes later, found me with Caleb who insisted he didn’t want to leave alone until I was fine. 
Mika was calm until Caleb mentioned the part of leaving me alone, causing a dry laugh from her, asking if his own words didn’t taste like vinegar.
Max called me right away as they landed, I assured him I was fine, just I got dizzy for the long weeks and the moved weekend, but I was totally fine.
Mika and Thomas didn’t mention a word to anyone about when we met Caleb; but try to persuade me at least I should tell Max who is Caleb, not because he must know everything about my past, just because as Mika said, if that dude is someone who hurt you that much I like to know.
Still I can’t, not now.
Singapore was a success, even for Lewis who reached third place. 
Max called me that night to tell me all in the paddock started to tease him about us, and he was fighting for nor saying a word, but Checo’s facial expression didn’t help him at all.
“I also received a couple of messages.” Alexa texted me Thursday night about a couple of photos of me and “someone” who looked like Max in Newport beach. 
Max smiles as he’s finishing his breakfast. “Alexandra.” 
“How do you know?” I almost hit the table in the living room.
“Charles has been very curious too.” He said drinking what I bet is his first redbull of the day. “Are you alone already?”
My parents left early for an old friend's party in Ireland, leaving me with the confidence that I'll be alone one day, because Max will come from me Tuesday afternoon to travel to Japan.
“Yes, it’s been a long Monday.” I laid down on the couch. “I never imagine how many permissions you need.”
All these days I have been in endless reunions and paperwork for the shelter, knowing I’m not going to be around, I have to make a huge progress before going to Japan. 
“And this is starting to frustrate me.” I raise my arm with the cast. 
Max realizes something. “I haven’t signed it, first thing I’ll do tomorrow.”
I didn’t realize I have a sheepy face until Max mentioned it. “Go to sleep, I'll see you tomorrow, ok?”
I nod getting up the stairs. “Have a safe flight.”
“Sleep well.” He smiles while drinking his Red Bull, hanging out.
Mornings are officially cold, but the sun keeps you warm as the few sunlights touch your skin. I finished my first snack of the day, sending the last information for one of the companies who will work with us when I hear wheels on the gravel, Max is here.
I close my laptop running to the main door, excited to see him after one week, still one I opened the door, Max isn’t there.
One more time, my blood runs cold.
“Hanna was right.” Caleb is standing at the door with his hands on the pocket of his jacket smiling. 
I curse low, I hate to admit it but Hanna keeps knowing some things about me. 
“Can we talk?” I close the door behind me. “I guess your parents are inside, I get it.”
Caleb waits a couple of seconds but simply seeing him smiling looking so fresh is making my anger increase.
“I just want to come and make sure you’re alright, you seem quite impressed and…” 
“You never worry about me.” I grip the cast trying to contain me. “It’s stupid you pretend now.”
Caleb got down his head. “Listen Y/N, things kind of mess up, but…”
“Mess up?” I scoff. “You better get out of here.” The tears on my eyes make everything blurry.
“I don’t cause you so much damage. Jeez Y/N, you seem happy in a new relationship, that’s a good sign.”
I couldn’t hold back, the next thing I realized was that my hand was hitting his cheek. “Go.”
“I deserved that, I know, I came here for…” Like he stumbles with his own feets he goes backwards, it was until Max appeared behind him pulling him for the jacket I blink and my blurry vision became clear.
“She told you to go.” Caleb scoffs but I know he won’t take a step back.
“Don’t get involved in this, this is between her and me.” I see Max’s face switch as he caresses my face, the leath eyes on him. 
“Get fuck out of here.” I grip Max's arm seeing he's about to push him, he turns around grabbing my hand.
“She told you who I am?” I feel my stomach flipp and I hiss. Caleb saw my eyes and he knew it. “You don’t tell him.”
“Enough, go.” Max grabs him by the jacket pushing him to his car.
“Max!” I try to grip his arm back, Max is so angry that he didn't even listen to me.
“I WAS HER FIANCE, IDIOT!” Max shutter for a minute but he opens the door of his car, pushing him. 
I can’t move, I've been holding my breath but all I do is sit on the stairs. 
Max grip the door. “Go, before I call the police.” 
Caleb holds his serious face and bluffs from the last time. “You can thank me later.”
I hide my face between my legs and my arms, trembling, feeling my world is collapsing one more time. 
“Hey, hey, can you look at me?” When Max sees I don’t move he kneels in front of me and hugs me, that was all I needed to break in tears.
No matter if all the walls are crumbling down, there are some wounds behind them, and sometimes those wounds are so easy to bleed like the first time. 
I push him away, I stand pushing him, one more time. “Leave me alone.” I clean my face but tears are impossible to stop.
“Y/N.” He grips my hand on his chest. 
“You don’t hear me?” I take my hand off his chest. “Leave me alone.” I said between grip teeths. 
I ran back to the door opened by closing it with a big thud, unable to move. I slip until the ground, my chest hurts, my breath is fast and my body is trembling. 
“Can you please…” Max said. “Please don't shut me down.” 
I cover my mouth for he won’t hear me. “Y/N.”
I don’t know how much time has passed until I hear another voice behind the door, but my fear fades away when I recognize Thomas' voice.
“Y/N, it’s me, can you please open it?” Thomas knocked softly.
“Tell him… Tell him to go.” My voice broke in every word.
“Y/N..” Thomas said in a begging tone.
I clean my face. “He goes or both of you.” 
I don’t want to distinguish what they said, just a loud <Fuck> from Max before the loud sound of wheels on the gravel, let me know is ok come out.
Just in that moment I opened, throwing myself in Thomas' arms crying like I did years ago.
It took me  a lot of time to calm down, but when I got it, I called Lewis to explain it; want it or not, Max will ask him when they meet in Japan. He cursed low and I could hear the anger as he asked me if I would be fine being alone this weekend.
“I’ll go Mika’s house.” It’s late at night and Mika and Thomas are there helping me, in all. 
“Call Nicola in case…” I heard someone calling for him, he’s already in Japan and for them it’s early morning.
“Let’s talk when you come here, ok?” Lewis breathes out. “Ple…”
“I won’t say anything, don’t worry. Try to rest, I’ll see you as soon as I can.” I heard he asked for another minute. “Love you.”
“Bye Lew.” 
I hang out but my eyes are lost in the big trees. “Y/N, ready?” 
Mika is under the frame door with my purse as Thomas walks with my bags in his hand. 
They waited for days for me to speak about it. Mom and dad called me when they didn't see any show for me being in the paddock so I told them what happened, even when they tried to remain calm I know they were angry too.
The farm is gone now, a big land is in front of my eyes with machinery all over the place; anyone there, after all it is Saturday morning..
“I’m terrified.” Thomas lifts his eyes from the blueprints. 
All these days I isolate myself in Newport, my house is in the last touches and the shelter in the first phases. 
Thomas forgot the papers we’ll need this Monday, after leaving Mika in the hospital we drove here.
“Y/N.” Thomas whispered. “It’s not easy, it’s ok to…”
“No it is not, I hurt him, I know.” I clear my throat. “But, I’m trying to protect him from all the shit.”
“Y/N!” Thomas spat leaving the pen on the table. “Don’t say that.”
“Do you even imagine what would happen if someone saw Max Verstappen pulling a guy into his car as a girl is crying on the floor?” Thomas bluffs but he knows as me that would be a pretty big scandale. “I’m scared that he probably thinks I’m a playmaker.”
He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times trying to put his word in order. “A guy like Max didn’t care that much, besides he never thought that of you. I talked with him and believed Y/N the only thing it was in his mind at that moment was to protect you.” 
Thomas grabs the papers and walks to the exit of the small tent where he works on the week. “He just want to make sure you’re safe.”
I see the leaves on the ground in brown, orange and yellow colors. “I know you’re not ready to tell him and like Mika said it’s not because he must know your past, it's just because if someone hurt you, I bet he would like to know.”
“I’ll drag too many people to this mess.” I feel a knot on my throat as I see my shoes playing with the ground.
“I’m going to correct you.” Thomas jostled me softly. “YOU have so many people you trust and know we care about you, and the same people you know you can lean on.” 
Imagines of my family, friends and new friends that appear in my life, giving me a hug when I need it, hearing me all the time, even just calling to ask if I already eat, flow my mind, as a smile appears on my face. 
“Is it bad that you lean on someone new?” I see Thomas and raise his shoulders. “After all, in these… whoa almost a year, that’s what you both been doing right?” 
I chuckle letting Max’s memories clear my mind. I see my phone, it’s not late.
“Give me a couple of minutes.” Thomas smiles and nods.
“I’ll wait in the car.” I waited until I heard the sound of the door to dial his number. 
I don’t wait too long until the third beep Max picks up, of course he won’t let me speak first.
“Are you ok?” I scrunch my nose trying to contain my tears. “Y/N…”
“Forgive me. I didn’t push you away, it's just, it was so much in that moment. I’ll tell you what you have to know, I swear but not now.” I moved side to side of the tent.
“Don’t bite your cheeks.” I giggle releasing I biting the inside of my cheeks. “You’ll hurt yourself.” 
“Max…” 
“All I care is that you are ok.” I heard the sound of him moving on the bed. 
“I am now, hearing you, I’m better now.” I closed my eyes like he could see me.
“Don’t do this to me schat, no when you’re far away.” Max complains. “And all I want to do is kiss you and hug you right now.”
I cover my face feeling a tear slip. “Let's find each other when the triple heads of Asia end, ok?” Max growls. “Is it so much your race thinking that is making me so happy?”
“I’ll do more than that, count with that.” I heard someone knock on his door. 
“I’ll leave you.” Max said goodbye but I added one last thing. “Max, I’m holding tight, really tight.”
“That’s all you have to do.”
The race was exceptional, Max won with a comfy difference of 2-3 seconds with Charles, but I never expected what would happen in the press conference.
Max posted photos of the race on the top of the podium, in the last slide was a photo we took when we were in Liverpool watching the sunrise. 
Not a simple photo of the sunrise; his face illuminated for the sun in orange colors as I’m hugging him but my face isn’t appearing in the frame, just my hair and my arm around his neck.
>Keeping her busy with winns.
In one of the many comments Max had about if there is a chance of tha girl in the picture could be me, I replay. 
> 👀
That unleashed an endless week of rumors and even a timeline of my relationship with Max started to spread. In the time line are photos that I didn't even know when or were taken.
Even Lewis helps to increase the rumors by posting a story of me laying on the couch of his house with the small description of…
>Keeping an eye on her. 
Which Mercedes complement with.
>Keeping a lot of eyes on her.
Red Bull can't stay behind, answering Mercedes.
>When you are busy we can keep an eye on her too. 😉
By the time the GP of China ends, Max was questioned about his position on the rumors.
“Max, what can you say about the things that are happening around you and Lewis' little sister?” Max keeps his face neutral.
“Y/N is an amazing person, but I'm afraid Lewis lost from his view a couple of times.” A big smile with pressed lips appeared on his face.
Lewis regrets he didn't have the chance to reply to something, but his tour with the reporters ended.
“We didn't want a soft lunch, right?” Max said as he arrived to apartment in Monaco.
“Not after a race!” I laugh rolling my eyes.
“Where are you? It's pretty dark. I can barely see you.” He said searching for his keys in his bag.
I opened his door jumping on him, causing him to act fast grabbing his phone and me at the same time. “In your house.”
Max curses but holds me tight against him.
“Oh my God.” He splits so he can see my face. “Hi.”
I scrunch my nose, jumping was a bad idea because my casted arm hurts.
“Reckless girl.” He observed my arm. “Are you ok? You shouldn't be jumping around, you know there is  a percentage of people who can aggravate a fracture even being with a cast.”
I roll my eyes. “So much blah blah blah.”
I pull him by his shirt for kissing him so slowly but passionately, with just one intention, leaving him breathless.
I get it because the lack of hair was the only thing that made us separate.
“I miss you.” I whisper stick to his lips. “I'm sorry, I know…”
We're so lost in the moment that he just pressed his lips against mine one more time.
“Welcome to your home.” I whisper following for a hug, both of his arms across my back.
“This couldn’t feel more like home.” He hid his face on my neck.
I smile but I remember what I have inside of his home. “Oh, let’s get inside.” 
I split as I pull him inside of his apartment but I stop him in his hallway. “No, no, no.” I put my right hand on his face. “Don’t see.”
Max has to walk with his knees a little bit folded and in an uncomfortable position, but still he smiles walking in a dark apartment.
We reached his living room, where on the small table a cheesecake with a little candle waits for him.
“Ta da!” I take my hand of his eyes, my eyes stuck on his face all the time. His face lights up too.
“Oh my god!” He blinks and sees me, all my words were cut for a kiss. “This is amazing, thank you so much.” 
“Blow it! Or you will have melted a candle on that.” Max giggles and blows the candle as I light on. 
After a detailed look he realized the shape of the candles. “This is Jimmy and Sassy. Amazing, totally amazing.” 
“Even though I like to take the credit for this, I can’t.” We sat down on his carpet. “I asked Alexa about a place for the cheesecake and the candles, Emma knows a place in London.”
“Can I?” Max points to the cheesecake for taking a piece. 
I giggle. “All yours.” I don’t have to tell him twice for he takes a small portion of melting at the first bite. “That good, huh?”
Max nods offering me a bite which I gladly take, yes, so good. 
Watching him enjoying the dessert makes my heart squeeze, just thinking how worried and mad he could be.
“I’m sorry.” I said playing with the carpet. “I promise I won’t do it again but I was scared.” 
Max grabs my hands and turns around facing me. “Don’t say that again. I’ll wait, if you think it is something you should tell me, I’ll wait until you’re ready.”
“You know, it is hard imagining a life without you.” It’s the only thing that I have clear on my mind, the only thing I have for certain right now lost in his eyes. 
Max blinks, I grab his face between my hands, smiling at him. “It's impossible for me too.” Max chuckles pulling me as I sit on his lap, both of my things at the side of his legs.  
I surrounded his neck with my arms. “You're one of a kind Verstappen.” Max laughs, kissing me. 
“Emilian for you, too many people call me that.” I laughed too nodding. “Thanks for be home.”
I hugged him tighter, he’s right, this couldn’t feel more like home.
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