#my answers might just all turn into adopt adopt adopt
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write-it-motherfuckers · 2 years ago
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what if we replace fuck marry kill with hug adopt slap for underage characters. better version
How about hug, adopt, therapy? H.A.T for short
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pucksandpower · 7 months ago
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If I Was a Worm
Max Verstappen x Reader
Summary: would you still love me if I was a worm?
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Max leans back on the plush leather couch, his eyes fixed on the TV screen where a football match flickers. The living room is bathed in the warm glow of evening sunlight streaming through floor-to-ceiling windows. You’re curled up beside him, your head resting on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
“Max?” You murmur, breaking the comfortable silence.
He hums in response, his fingers idly playing with a strand of your hair. “What’s on your mind?”
You hesitate, biting your lip. The question that’s been nagging at you feels silly now that you’re about to voice it. But curiosity wins out. “Would you still love me if I was a worm?”
Max’s hand stills. He looks down at you, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “A worm? Like, an actual worm?”
You nod, fighting back a smile at his bewildered expression.
He lets out a short laugh. “Where did that come from?”
“Just answer the question,” you insist, poking his side playfully.
Max runs a hand through his hair, clearly trying to process this unexpected turn in conversation. “I mean ... I guess? But why would you be a worm?”
You shrug, sitting up to face him properly. “It’s hypothetical, Max. Just go with it.”
He sighs, a mix of amusement and exasperation in his eyes. “Alright, fine. If you were a worm, I’d ... I’d buy you the best soil? Make sure you had plenty of leaves to eat?”
You can’t help but giggle at his attempt. “That’s sweet, but not quite what I meant.”
Max groans, throwing his head back against the couch. “I don’t know how to love a worm! What do worms even do?”
“They wiggle,” you offer helpfully, demonstrating with a wave of your hand.
He captures your wiggling hand in his, intertwining your fingers. “Okay, so you’d wiggle. And I’d ... watch you wiggle?”
You burst out laughing at the absurdity of it all. Max joins in, the tension in his shoulders easing as he pulls you closer.
“I’m serious though,” you say once the laughter subsides. “Would you still love me? Even if I wasn’t ... me anymore?”
Max’s expression softens, his thumb tracing circles on the back of your hand. “Is that what this is really about? You’re worried I wouldn’t love you if you changed?”
You nod, suddenly feeling vulnerable. “I know it’s silly ...”
“Hey,” Max says gently, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. “It’s not silly. And to answer your question: yes, I’d still love you. Worm or not.”
“Even if I couldn’t talk to you anymore? Or hug you? Or do any of the things we do together?”
Max is quiet for a moment, considering. “I think ... I think love isn’t just about what someone can do for you. It’s about who they are, their essence. And that wouldn’t change, even if you were a worm.”
You feel a warmth spreading through your chest at his words. “That’s ... actually really profound, Max.”
He grins, a hint of pride in his eyes. “I have my moments.”
“So you’d be okay with having a worm girlfriend?” You tease, lightening the mood.
Max laughs, shaking his head. “I mean, it would definitely make my life interesting. Imagine trying to explain that to the press.”
You adopt a mock-serious tone. “Max, is it true that your girlfriend is now a invertebrate?’“
He plays along, mimicking his media voice. “Yes, it’s true. But I can assure you, she’s the most beautiful earthworm you’ve ever seen.”
You both dissolve into giggles, the earlier tension completely dissipated.
“Seriously though,” Max says once you’ve caught your breath. “Where did this worm thing come from?”
You shrug, a bit embarrassed now. “I don’t know. I was just thinking about how much our lives have changed since we got together. And how they might keep changing. I guess I wanted to know if there was a limit to ... us.”
Max’s expression turns thoughtful. “I get that. Our lives are pretty crazy sometimes.”
“Understatement of the year,” you mutter.
He chuckles. “Fair enough. But you know, through all the craziness, you’re my constant. My home base. That wouldn’t change, even if you grew an exoskeleton.”
You raise an eyebrow playfully. “Worms don’t have exoskeletons.”
“Same difference,” Max says with a dismissive wave. “The point is, I love you. All of you. Not just the parts that are convenient or easy.”
You feel a lump forming in your throat, touched by his sincerity. “Even the parts that ask weird hypothetical questions?”
“Especially those parts,” he assures you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “They keep me on my toes.”
You snuggle closer to him, feeling a sense of peace settle over you. “Thank you for humoring me.”
“Always,” Max murmurs. “Though I have to ask ... why a worm? Why not like, a cat or something?”
You laugh. “I don’t know. It just popped into my head. Plus, a cat would be too easy. You already like cats.”
“True,” he concedes. “But at least a cat could watch races with me. What would a worm do all day?”
You pretend to consider this seriously. “Worm things. Soil aeration. Composting.”
Max nods solemnly. “Ah yes, very important worm business.”
“Hey, don’t mock my hypothetical worm life,” you protest, poking his chest. “I’d be a very accomplished worm, I’ll have you know.”
He holds up his hands in surrender. “I wouldn’t dare question your worm credentials.”
You both fall silent for a moment, the absurdity of the conversation sinking in.
“We’re ridiculous, aren’t we?” You say finally, unable to keep the smile off your face.
Max grins. “Completely. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
You lean in to kiss him, feeling a rush of affection for this man who can make even the silliest conversations feel meaningful.
As you pull away, Max’s eyes twinkle with mischief. “You know, if you really want to be a worm, I could always bury you in the garden ...”
You gasp in mock outrage. “Max Verstappen, don’t you dare!”
He laughs, pulling you closer. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Though it might be fun to see you wiggle ...”
You swat his arm playfully. “Keep it up and you’ll be the one sleeping in the garden tonight.”
Max’s expression turns serious, though there’s still a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “You know, all this worm talk has got me thinking ...”
“Oh?” You say, curious about where he’s going with this.
He nods, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah. I’ve realized something important.”
You wait, eyebrow raised expectantly.
“If you were a worm,” Max says slowly, building suspense, “you’d be the prettiest worm in the world.”
You groan, burying your face in his chest to muffle your laughter. “That was terrible.”
“But true,” he insists, chuckling. “You’d leave all the other worms in the dust. Or ... soil, I guess.”
You look up at him, shaking your head fondly. “You’re impossible.”
“You love it,” Max says confidently.
And as you gaze into his warm, playful eyes, you can’t deny it. You do love it. You love him, in all his goofy, sweet, sometimes infuriating glory.
“Yeah,” you admit softly. “I really do.”
Max’s expression softens, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. “And I love you. Worm or human or anything in between.”
You lean into his touch, feeling a deep sense of contentment wash over you. “Promise?”
“Promise,” he says firmly. “Though I have to admit, I’m pretty fond of this current version of you.”
You smile, your earlier insecurities fading away in the warmth of his gaze. “Me too. I think I’ll stick with being human for now.”
“Good choice,” Max murmurs, pulling you in for another kiss. “Though I bet you’d make a cute worm.”
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sourdeers · 1 month ago
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☰ ❝ONE CONDITION❞
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pairing ﹕ katsuki bakugou x reader.
— content warning: third year! reader & katsuki. profanity. lower case intended. katsuki has hearing aids. bakugou parents mentioned. alcohol consumption - not by reader or katsuki. minor angst. — word count ﹕ 1,497 — a/n: FIRST POST, YAY ! reblogs and comments are very much appreciated !
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“what do you want?”
katsuki has an attitude. his face is pulled into a pretty scowl, brows furrowed just the slightest bit, and his voice has a certain . . . edge to it. you disregard his attitude and smile widely. “katsuki! just the guy i was looking for.”
he blinks at you for a moment, then narrows his eyes. “you’re at my dorm.” another blink, a shake of his head. “whatever. what do you want?”
you push past him into his room, ignoring the grunt of annoyance that he gives you, and sit down on his desk chair. this is a normal occurrence—you barging into his room and talking his ear off. since second year, when you were officially adopted into what denki calls “the baku-squad,” his room has become one of your favorite places to be. 
unlike denki’s messy room, and mina’s completely cluttered room, katsuki’s room is clean, cozy, and neat. there’s a few posters on the wall, two of all might and one of katsuki’s favorite band. he absolutely never has the big light on, always opting for the lamp in the corner of his room that gives off an orange-ish hue. 
“i have a problem,” you state simply. he swings the door shut and walks to his bed—you take that as a sign to keep talking. “so, there’s that test in present mic’s coming up and—”
“no.” he lays down on his bed, resting the back of his head against the wall, and pulls out his phone.
“you didn’t even let me finish my sentence!”
“you want me to help you study.” he grumbles, eyes briefly flicking over to meet your own. “and i said no. go ask mina or shittyhair, or something.”
now it’s your turn to blink. because, while you love them both so very dearly, you and katsuki both know that they aren’t the brightest when it comes to grammar.
“please!” you exclaim, standing quickly and walking to the side of his bed. you sit down and feel your weight making a dip. “i am literally desperate, katsuki. like, name anything and i’ll do it. you want me to do your laundry? done. want me to make dinner for a week? i can’t promise it will be good, but that’s fine. want me to . . . to . . . i don’t know, beat the shit out of somebody? done!”
he looks up from his phone now, a smile on his face. a terrifying, creepy, mischievous grin. you narrow your eyes slightly. “anything?” he repeats.
you swallow hard. “with- within reason, of course.”
“alright, y/n.” he pushes himself up into an upright position, discarding his phone off to the side. “i’ll help you study for mic’s test. on one condition.”
“this is . . . not what i had in mind when you ‘one condition,’ katsuki.”
he clicks his tongue and turns to you, now facing away from the mirror. “what did you think i was gonna ask for? don’t got nothing for you to do that i can’t do myself.” his hands are messily fumbling with his tie, the same scowl from earlier plastered on his face. “are you gonna help me with this damn thing, or are you just going to stand there and gawk at me?”
you flush. because, yes, you were gawking, but there’s no reason for him to know that. “i was not gawking at you, just wondering how you have fashion designers for parents and don’t know how to properly tie a tie.” you roll your eyes, but walk over to him, fingers shaking as they reach for the red fabric around his neck. “i can’t even believe you come to these types of things. didn’t think you’d be into dinner parties.”
he doesn’t answer immediately, but you can feel his gaze in your face. you refuse to meet his eyes, not when you’re this close to him. 
there’s always been . . . something between you and katsuki. he’s always been nicer to you—well, as nice as katsuki can get, at least. ”accidentally” making extra of your favorite food; movie night, when he kicks kirishima off the couch so you don’t have to sit on the floor; texting you first, rather than never responding to your texts like he does to the rest of your guys’ friends.
you’ve noticed it, of course. how could you not? you notice him staring when he thinks he’s being discreet. you’ve noticed the small, barely there smiles that he gives you when you’re talking to him about something random.
“we’re going to be late,” you say, hands dropping to your side awkwardly. you take a step back, eyes still glued to the tie. “it’s fixed. come on, let's get out there before your mom kills us.”
you turn before he can say anything else. 
you can hear everyone before you even open the door. but once you do, the sound is almost magnified. you turn back to katsuki with narrowed eyes. “do not turn your hearing aids off during this dinner, or i will strangle you.”
he rolls his eyes and sighs heavily. “i won’t. i think my mom would kick my ass harder than you would.”
“oh, please,” you roll your eyes as you make your way down the hallway.
the party is . . . fine. it’s mostly adults—older women who work with mitsuki, accompanied by their husbands. a few of the men there work alongside masaru, as well. you’re not really sure why katsuki had to come, or why you both had to dress up so fancy, but you don’t ask him about it.
there are a few awkward moments when the said older women ask you two how long you’ve been together, or if you’re thinking about marriage and kids yet, but katsuki takes it like a pro.
“we’re not together,” he says, more than once.
“she’s not my girlfriend,” he says through gritted teeth, more than once.
“we’re friends.” he rolls his eyes and sends you a pleading look.
each time, it’s another stab to your heart. you’re well aware that katsuki does not have girlfriends. he has friends and he has school and he has being a pro-hero and, for him, that’s enough.
even when he invites you to a dinner party with his parents and their co-workers.
by the end of the night, your stomach is full, your head hurts, and you need probably ten hours of sleep to be caught up.
“that was . . .” you trail off, staring down at your heels as they click against the concrete. “i did not realize your parents were that big into parties. they go hard, huh?”
he huffs out a laugh, but it sounds more like a scoff. it always does. “yeah, it’s fuckin’ ridiculous. one glass of wine and the hag goes off the rails.”
you snicker, shoving his shoulder with your own. “how many times do i have to tell you not to call her that?” you playfully scowl, shaking your head. “your mother is a very nice woman.”
he stops in his tracks, and you do the same. his brows furrow and he jerks a thumb in the direction of his house. “my mother? bakugou mitsuki? are you sure we met the same person in there? blonde, loud, an asshole. sounding familiar?”
“very,” you hum, a small smile on your face.
“that is so not funny, y/n.”
he jogs back up to you just as you reach your car. “well,” you say, shrugging your shoulders. “that was . . . i won’t say fun, but i had an okay time. thanks for inviting me.”
“i didn’t really invite you. you kind of had to come.” he shrugs too, shoving his hands in his pockets. “but, uh, thanks. for coming, i mean. i didn’t want to do that by myself.”
“no problem, kats.” 
there’s a silence that falls over you two, like you both want to say something but won’t—or can’t. he opens his mouth to speak, but closes it again.
“i should probably go home,” you mumble, eyes drifting to your car. “my mom said be home by eleven.”
“right.” he nods once. you reach for your door handle, but he clears his throat and you freeze. “uh, hold on.” you turn to look at him again, head tilted. “my parents are doing another one of these things next weekend,” he explains, scratching the back of his neck. “do you wanna, uh, come?”
it’s not a confession. it’s not him asking you out on a date. hell, it’s not even him showing any interest towards you. but . . . your heart thumps in your chest and the smile that stretches across your face is almost involuntary.
“eat masaru’s food and gossip with drunk older women?” you ask, resting a hand on your hip. “count me in.” he starts to snicker, but you hold up a finger. “on one condition.”
the groan that leaves his mouth is the funniest thing that night.
and the smile on his face as you drive away is the prettiest goddamn thing you’ve ever seen. 
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holyblonded · 4 days ago
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adoption day | stargirl
pairings: alexia putellas x teen!reader, olga rios x teen!reader
summary: you manage to make you adoption day chaotic
warnings: abandonment issues(?)
notes: the ending is a bit similar to teenage dream but this was written first and idk how else to end 😭 i almost revealed estrella’s real name but decided against it
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The house is too quiet. Too quiet. Alexia’s stomach is in knots as she turns to Alba, her voice sharp but low. “What do you mean she’s not in the house?”
Her eyes flick toward the hallway, making sure Eli and Olga don’t overhear. She doesn’t want to worry them— not yet. But the urgency in her voice is unmistakable.
Alba forces a tight-lipped smile, waving casually as Eli and Olga step out to grab more disposable plates and cutlery for the party later that evening. The second the door shuts behind them, her expression drops.
“I mean that I have torn through every single room in your godforsaken house, and Estrella is not in any of them,” she hisses. Alexia’s stomach sinks. “We have to find her,” she says immediately, already grabbing her keys. “We have to be at the courthouse soon.”
Alba groans, rubbing a hand over her face. “She knows what today is. Why would she disappear now?”
Alexia doesn’t have an answer.
They search everywhere. The backyard. The front yard. The neighbor’s driveway, just in case. The park down the street. Your favorite café around the corner. Nothing. No sign of you.
Alexia’s worry mutates, twisting into frustration. She pulls out her phone— no missed calls, no texts. Not even a single, stupid emoji from you.
“She’s going to give me a heart attack before she’s even legally my kid,” she mutters, pacing the sidewalk.
Alba, just as frantic but unwilling to admit it, crosses her arms. “You think she ran?”
Alexia stops pacing. The thought stings more than she wants to acknowledge. “No. No, she wouldn’t.”
“She might,” Alba counters, voice quieter now. “She panics sometimes. Maybe it’s too much for her.”
Alexia clenches her jaw. “Then we find her and tell her it’s okay.”
They split up again, checking every place they can think of, but the clock is ticking.
The courthouse appointment looms closer.
And still, there’s no sign of you.
Alexia’s grip tightens around her phone, her breath coming short. She’s about to call the police, or hunt you down herself, or…
The front door creaks open.
Both she and Alba whirl around at the same time, watching as you shuffle inside.
You look exhausted.
Hair slightly disheveled, hoodie too big on you, shoes scuffed like you’ve been walking for hours. Your expression is guarded, your shoulders hunched—like you’re bracing for impact. But more than anything, you look guilty.
Relief crashes over Alexia in a dizzying wave. It’s quick, sharp, and almost immediately replaced by frustration.
“¿Dónde has estado?” she demands, crossing the room in seconds. Her voice is firm, but there’s a raw edge to it. “Where were you? We’ve been looking everywhere.”
You hesitate, your gaze flickering toward Alba before landing back on Alexia. “Out.”
“Out where?” she presses, hands hovering near your shoulders, like she wants to shake the answer out of you but is afraid you might break.
You shift uncomfortably. “Just… around.”
Alba narrows her eyes. “Around where?”
You glance at the floor, shrugging slightly. “Just walking.”
Alexia exhales sharply, running a hand through her hair. “Estrella, hoy es el día. We have to be at the courthouse soon—”
“I know,” you say quickly.
She stops, studying you. There’s something off. Something unreadable in your expression.
“Then why disappear?” she asks, quieter now.
You don’t answer right away. The front door swings open again, saving you. Olga and Eli step inside, bags in hand. The air in the room shifts immediately, tension settling in thick and heavy. Olga raises a brow, glancing between all of you, while Eli exhales like she already knows exactly what just happened.
“You found her,” Eli notes, setting the bags down.
“Barely,” Alba mutters.
Alexia’s frustration softens, just a little. Her eyes stay on you, the fight in her fading into something warmer, something quieter.
“You’re here now,” she murmurs, reaching up to cup the side of your face briefly before letting her hand drop. “That’s what matters.”
You look away, shifting on your feet.
Olga watches you carefully. “You okay, bebita?”
You force a small smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. “Yeah. Just… a lot on my mind.”
Alexia sighs. She doesn’t push. Not now.
There will be time for that later.
“Come on,” she says, nudging your shoulder lightly. “Let’s get you changed.” A small smile tugs at the corner of her lips. “We’re going to make this official.”
You nod, following her down the hall.
But even as you move, your expression remains unreadable.
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You stand stiffly in front of the courthouse, fingers twisting the fabric of your dress in a desperate attempt to smooth it down, to steady your shaking hands, to control something. But nothing feels in your control.
Your chest is tight, your stomach churns, and your vision blurs slightly as you blink rapidly, trying to hold yourself together. You should be happy. This should be one of the best days of your life. So why does it feel like you can’t breathe?
A warm hand presses gently against your back, and you flinch so hard it’s obvious.
“Mi amor,” Olga’s voice is soft, laced with concern. Her eyes scan your face, taking in the tension in your jaw, the way your shoulders hunch like you’re trying to make yourself smaller. “You guys go ahead, find the room,” she tells the others, not taking her eyes off you. “I’m going to talk to Estrellita real quick.”
Alexia, already watching you closely, doesn’t hesitate. She steps forward, placing a quick, gentle kiss on your forehead, then on Olga’s, before catching up to her sister and mother.
Olga guides you toward a bench overlooking a small park, where children run freely, their laughter ringing through the air. It feels like another world—one you can’t quite reach.
She sits beside you, but not too close, giving you space, waiting.
“Alright, mi nena.” Her voice is low, soothing, but firm. “What’s going on? You’ve been quiet all day. It’s not like you.”
A sharp exhale rips from your chest— too deep, too heavy, like you’re forcing the weight of everything inside you out in one breath. Your hands clench together in your lap.
“I’m scared, Olga.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, but she hears every word.
“I want this. I want to be Ale’s daughter. She’s been more of a mom to me than my real mom ever was. I want to be part of this family, officially, but I’m terrified. What if one day she decides she’s not ready? Or she changes her mind?” Your voice cracks, but you push forward, words spilling out faster now, harder to control.
“What if one day you and Ale want to start a family and I prevent that? What if I just get in the way?”
Olga shakes her head instantly, but you don’t let her interrupt.
“I can’t let that happen,” you murmur, eyes locked on the pavement like if you look up, everything will become too real. “I spent my whole life praying for a family like this, one that wanted me, that cared about me, that let me just…be me. And now that I have it, I’m scared that once it’s real, once it’s official, it’ll all just—” You take a deep, shaky breath, voice barely holding together. “Go away.”
Olga doesn’t say anything at first. Instead, she pulls you into her arms, cradling you against her chest like she’s trying to shield you from every fear, every doubt, every ghost from your past whispering that you don’t deserve this.
You feel a tear drop onto your hair.
“Mi amor,” she whispers, voice thick with emotion. “Oh, mi corazón.” She pulls back just enough to cup your face, forcing you to meet her eyes. “Listen to me, and listen carefully. You are not in the way. You will never be in the way. Alexia, Eli, Alba, me, chose you. Not out of obligation. Not because we had to. Because we want you. Because we love you.”
Your breath shudders. “But what if—”
“No.” Olga shakes her head firmly, thumb brushing against your cheek. “There is no what if. This is your family. We are your family. And that is never going to change.”
You don’t realize you’re crying until she wipes a tear from your cheek.
You let her hold you for a little while longer, letting her warmth sink into your bones, letting yourself believe, really believe, that maybe, just maybe, she’s telling the truth.
Eventually, Olga presses one last kiss to your forehead and stands, holding out her hand.
“Ready?”
No. You’re not sure you’ll ever be ready. But you nod anyway and let her lead you inside.
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The moment you step into the courtroom, you freeze.
The room is packed. Not just with Alexia, Alba, and Eli. Not just with Olga.
The entire Barcelona team is there. The coaching staff. Your friends: Vicky, Lamine, Alejandro, Héctor, Pau. People who have been there for you, who have stood by you, who have loved you without hesitation.
Your breath catches, and for a split second, that familiar panic claws at your chest. But then Alexia steps forward, smiling at you with so much warmth, so much love, that the fear starts to melt away.
She reaches for your hand, squeezing it tightly. “Come on, mi Estrelleta.”
You let her guide you forward, your other hand still holding onto Olga.
The judge begins speaking, but the words blur together. Your heart pounds as the moment approaches, as everything you’ve feared and longed for comes to a single point in time.
“Do you, Alexia Putellas, accept this young lady as your legal daughter, with all the rights and responsibilities that come with it?”
Alexia doesn’t even hesitate. “Sí. Always.”
“Then by the power vested in me, I hereby declare Alexia Putellas as the legal parent and guardian of ‘Estrella’ Putellas.”
The room erupts into cheers.
And before you can fully process what just happened, Alexia sweeps you into her arms, lifting you off the ground as you cling to her, burying your face in her shoulder.
“I love you,” she whispers fiercely into your ear. “Forever. Unconditionally. Do you hear me?”
You nod against her, too overwhelmed to speak.
“I’m never letting you go,” she promises. “Not now. Not ever.”
Even though you never responded, you believe it.
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The party is in full swing. Laughter echoes through the house, glasses clink, music hums in the background. The Barcelona team is here, the coaching staff, your friends, everyone who has loved and supported you. There’s warmth, celebration, and a steady stream of people hugging you, ruffling your hair, calling your name with joy.
The air feels thick, the noise pressing against your skin, the walls closing in just slightly. Your heart beats too fast, and your breath comes too shallow. You can’t explain it; it’s not sadness, it’s not fear, but it’s something. A pressure in your chest, a weight in your throat.
Alexia notices. Of course she does. She’s been watching you all night, eyes flicking to you between conversations, gauging every twitch of your fingers, every shift in your expression. So when she sees you standing by the back door, shoulders tight, eyes distant, she excuses herself from a conversation with Lucy and moves toward you without hesitation.
She doesn’t say anything at first. Just nudges your arm gently with her elbow. “Come on,” she murmurs, tilting her head toward the door. “Let’s get some air.”
You nod, relieved, and follow her outside.
The night air is cool, crisp against your overheated skin. The backyard is quiet, the noise of the party muffled behind the closed door. Alexia leads you to the steps of the patio, sinking down onto them, and you follow suit.
For a while, neither of you speak. You just sit there, breathing in the fresh air, letting the tension in your shoulders loosen bit by bit.
Alexia stretches out her legs, hands resting loosely on her knees. Then, after a moment, she glances at you. “Too much?”
You exhale, nodding. “Yeah. I just needed a second.”
She hums in understanding, gaze drifting up to the sky. “I get it. Big days like this… they don’t always hit right away. Sometimes it sneaks up on you later.”
You swallow, staring at your hands. “It feels real now,” you admit quietly.
Alexia turns her head slightly, studying you. “Does that scare you?”
You shake your head, but then pause, reconsidering. “Maybe a little. Not because I don’t want it. But because… I’m not used to things like this being permanent.”
Alexia’s chest tightens. She wants to tell you that this is different. That she’s not going anywhere. That this is forever. But she knows words alone won’t make you believe it. You’ve spent too much of your life with people making promises they couldn’t keep.
So instead, she shifts closer, draping an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into her side.
You lean into her instinctively, letting yourself rest against her, feeling the steady rise and fall of her breath. It’s grounding.
After a while, you break the silence. Your voice is quiet, but sure. “I called you mamá in my head today.”
Alexia goes very, very still.
You hesitate, then let out a soft, nervous laugh. “I’ve never called anyone else that before. Not really. I was scared to say it out loud. But… it felt right.”
Alexia exhales shakily, and when you glance up at her, there’s something raw in her eyes, something vulnerable, something that looks suspiciously like unshed tears.
She cups the side of your face, her thumb brushing lightly against your cheek, like she’s memorizing the moment. Then, her voice barely above a whisper, she asks, “Do you want to say it now?”
You hesitate. Just for a second. And then, you take a breath and let it slip past your lips, quiet but steady.
“Mamá.”
Alexia lets out a choked breath. Then she’s pulling you into her arms, holding you tight, her hand cradling the back of your head as she presses a kiss to your temple. “Mi niña,” she whispers, voice thick with emotion. “Mi amor. Mi hija.”
You squeeze your eyes shut, pressing yourself closer into her warmth, into the safety of her embrace.
For the first time in your life, the word mamá feels like safe.
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featjunranghae · 1 month ago
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Fatherhood - Lee Jeno
warning: none in this part. might get suggestive later
summary: when jeno's girlfriend left him to deal with fatherhood alone. he decided he'd never let anyone in his or his daughter's life. that was until he met you. his neighbour whom his daughter seemed to love way too much
single dad jeno was only 20 when he got his then girlfriend pregnant. the entirety of the pregnancy they were together. planning their future with their little angel. but that all changed after his daughter jiwoo was born. his girlfriend wasn't being her usual self for months. he took it as postpartum depression. but one night she just packed her bags.
"I can't do this anymore."
jeno was confused. everything seemed to be going okay. he tried reasoning, tried making her stay. but her only answer was. "keep jiwoo. if I take her she might end up in an adoption."
that night changed everything for jeno. how could he do this alone? but he had to manage. begged his parents to babysit his daughter at day time so he could go to uni and could take extra jobs just to make ends meet. he was devastated. and it was hard going back to normal.
but slowly with time he healed a bit. he needed to heal for his daughter. and for her he'd move mountains. but some days it got exhausting. he just wanted to give up. he was too tired.
it was one of those days. he just finished his finals. he hadn't eaten anything since dinner last night and it was 4pm. he had to take jiwoo for her monthly check up and was on the way back home. and for some reason she wouldn't stop crying. he tried everything. singing, giving her chocolate, toys, YouTube but nothing was working.
he apologized to everyone as he got on the bus. no one liked a crying baby. while some offered him sympathetic smile, for others, the annoyance was clear on their faces. he put his bag down on the seat beside him.
"c'mon baby girl..." he muttered rocking her. "help daddy..." he tried feeding her the bottle but she fussily pushed it away. her wails turned to screeches and jeno felt himself tearing up. could this day get any fucking worse. "baby please-"
"let me help you."
it was like the voice was sent from god himself as jeno looked up at you. your eyes full of understanding as you slowly put his bag down on the ground and sat beside him. "I can hold her if you don't mind."
jeno should question before just handing his daughter out to anyone. but he didn't. he couldn't. he just needed her to stop. so he handed you jiwoo. he watched as you slowly patted her back putting her against your chest.
"it's okay... you're okay..." you hummed and it was like miracle to jeno. jiwoo stopped crying. the wails turned to sniffles. she slowly buried her face in your chest eyes slowly fluttering shut.
"are you a magician?" he asked before he could stop himself. "I'm sorry-"
"I spent all my highschool babysitting." you smiled rubbing your hand on jiwoos back. jeno didn't even know what to say as he stared at his little girl in your arms. "you don't look okay..."
"I'm not... I just.... my baby... she's... I.." he tried thinking of what to say without breaking down. "I just had a long day... I had exams... and work I... I'm so exhausted."
"it's okay to be exhausted-" you waited for his name.
"jeno."
"it's okay to be exhausted Jeno. you're doing such a great job. taking care of a baby isn't an easy job." you whispered to him and that was it. jeno found tearing up.
"I'm sorry I'm sorry-"
"it's okay... let it out." he didn't even know your name and here he was. crying beside you while you held his daughter. he wiped his eyes.
"it's so hard being a father... it's so hard... everything is hard... I just want to quit." he cried wiping his face.
"it is hard. going to uni and taking care of your daughter... but you're doing a great job." you whispered slowly moving one hand to pat his shoulder.
"I'm sorry... you must think I'm some loser crying in the bus-"
"I think you're a dad trying his best." jeno looked up at you then back at his daughter. "I'm yn, by the way. what's this princess's name?"
"jiwoo."
"how old is she?"
"she just turned 2." he said wiping her drool that was about to fall on your shirt. "I'm sorry- I'll take her-"
"I can hold her up until you get off the bus, if that's okay." you offered. he nodded slowly. he needed this. "you mentioned exams... you're in uni?"
"last year." he told you and he saw your eyes widen.
"me too. which major?" you asked hands still rocking jiwoo.
"applied physics."
"damn." you whispered. "must be hard... never understood a word of physics like my whole life."
he found himself smiling at your words. "which major are you in?"
"psychology."
that explains.
the rest of the ride was quiet. it was jeno's stop. he slowly took jiwoo out of your arms. "thank you so much yn... I don't know what I would've done without you today."
"it's okay." you smiled back grabbing your bag. "do you live in 7th streets as well?" Jeno nodded. "the world is so small. I live on 7th street as well. the building beside the convenience store."
"I live on the one opposite to it." he told you as you both got off. no words were shared as you as you reached in front of your building.
"I'll be off then..." you smiled before cooing at jiwoo. "such a lovely girl." you slowly poked her chubby cheeks watching her snuggle even closer to her dad.
"she was anything but lovely today." he chuckled looking down at his daughter with so much adoration. "she's usually calmer I promise."
"I'll take your words for it big guy." you said before waving one last time and walking off. jeno stood there for a while watching you leave. something in his heart told him this wouldn't be the last time you two meet.
NCT MASTERLIST - NEXT
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vettelsvee · 8 months ago
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ALMOST CAUGHT | Oscar Piastri
f1 masterlist | wattpad | ao3 | requests or let's talk!
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oscar piastri x gf!reader
word count: 1151
summary: oscar and his gf get a little bit horny, but they need to do things quick before someone catch them having sex
warnings: +18, smut (p in v, protected sex), dom!oscar, risk of getting caught
a/n: idk how this turned out because i don't think i'm good writing smut. however, i'll try to improve! feedback is appreciated, as well as reblogs <3
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© VETTELSVEE (2024). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!
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You were lying on the sofa, in your living room, watching a movie as your family had gone shopping at the local mall. Oscar wasn't there either because he had taken Blueberry, the puppy you both recently adopted, for a walk. You had decided not to go because you weren't feeling well. Nevertheless, you were lying on that sofa, eating M&M's and watching a Turkish TV show out of sheer boredom, where the newlywed couple protagonists argued about who would do the shopping.
"When will you be back, Piastri?"
Just as you were thinking about that, Oscar sent you a video of himself and your pet along with a message:
"I might have a little surprise for my girl :)"
You didn't know what he meant, so you asked him what for. Minutes later, he replied that he was saying nothing until the correct moment. Despite your desperation to know what the Australian man had planned, you resisted the urge to keep asking him.
You fell asleep and didn't even realize it, so it was the sound of the front door opening that woke you up. Then, you noticed how small but quick steps were moving back and forth. Alongside them, larger steps slowly approached the couch where you lay.
"Hello, love," you composed yourself a bit from sleep and noticed it was Oscar. "Are you okay?"
"What... what time is it?" you asked curiously. You had completely lost track of time, and you didn't know when you had fallen asleep or how much time had passed since then.
"It's eight twenty-five," the brown-eyed guy replied with a smile.
You noticed he kept smiling, so you kissed him. It was a short but passionate kiss, in which both of you realized that every day you were more in love.
"And what's that about?" Oscar smiled again and positioned himself on top of you, while you couldn't stop telling yourself that he was perfect for you and wondering what you had done to deserve him.
"I'm waiting for the surprise you were going to give me."
You were giving him a too enticing look, and slowly he was starting to get aroused. He wanted to have sex, just like you, and both of you knew each other's thoughts as if they were your own.
"You'll have to wait, darling, but I think we can do something else while you wait."
As soon as Oscar answered, he began kissing you, something that as it progressed became faster and more desperate. You followed along with your tongue, but you were worried that your parents and siblings might appear at any moment.
You decided to stop. Or at least try to.
"Oscar…," no matter what you said, he kept kissing you, now going all the way down on your neck, making you release small moans every time you spoke. "Piastri..., stop..."
Seeing that he wasn't going to stop, you forgot about the possibility of your family catching you having sex and that became the least of your concerns.
With a quick change of position, now you were the one on top of your boyfriend, making movements to further provoke his excitement. Meanwhile, he began to remove your shirt, leaving only a pink bra with blue teddy bears exposed. You knew that wasn't the best attire for situations like the one unfolding, but at that moment you didn't care because there was enough trust - besides, there would be other moments to wear better lingerie.
His kisses trailed down your neck again, but with the main difference this time being that he was leaving marks. You removed his sweater, but it wasn't enough for you: you wanted more, so you didn't hesitate to unbutton his pants, struggling a bit to take them off.
You immediately started playing with the waistband of his boxers, and both of you felt the nervousness growing, although you didn't pay much attention to it. In the end, it wasn't the first time you risked getting caught, and to be honest, you got very horny at that thought.
He removed your pants just as you had done to him earlier, taking the opportunity to position himself on top of you. You knew it was about to begin when he took a condom from his pocket.
You were eager for him, so you removed his underwear, leaving him completely naked, while you remained in your underwear.
"This can't keep going on like this, babe..." the boy said, eager to enter you.
He started removing your bra, immediately moving down between your legs, where he began to touch over your underwear before taking it off.
"Oscar..." you moaned once again.
"For God's sake, shut up already," he demanded, which only aroused you more. "I need you to stay calm, not acting like a desperate whore. I thought you were better than that."
At his words, you got absolutely in shock, but in some way it turned you on hearing Oscar speak like that. 
"Are you sure you want to do this? Will you stop acting so desperate if I enter you this quick? With no previous games and…"
"Of course. You better shut up now and start fucking me," you interrupted him, answering without hesitation.
Once again, and as if he didn’t kiss you on the forehead and began to insert himself into you.
At first, he was going slow, but as the minutes went by the speed increased. Unfortunately, you tried to control your moans, something that Oscar seemed to do perfectly just in case your parents arrived, but you couldn’t hold them. It was great, and you didn’t want it to end.
"Damn it, Oscar!" you screamed, but you still hadn't reached orgasm.
"Wow, I didn't know I was that good at sex," he said proudly, surprising you. "I thought you always faked your moans."
"Shut up and keep going," you answered with a voice slightly interrupted by Oscar’s moves. "I'm close."
A few minutes later, both of you were lying on the sofa, after cumming without much difficulty.
However, your post sex kisses and talk ended as soon as, after getting dressed, you saw you twins brothers standing next to the living room door, seeing you both in absolute shock. 
"Come on, you gotta be kidding me!" Louis, one of the twins, yelled, while you kept signaling him to be quiet.
He started running up the stairs quickly and shouting without hesitation while Liam, your other brother, was sending a voice message to his best friend telling him that he caught his sister and her boyfriend having sex. 
"I guess we won’t be having any more surprises at home for now, love," you said, seeing the commotion you had caused in a moment. "I hope they don’t tell my parents, because if they freak out…”
“We’ll freak out, I know,” Oscar said. “Really, I get it, Y/N. I guess I’ll have to take you to Disneyland to fuck you in one of those Marvel hotel rooms full of Spider-Man merch. Maybe we could try something with some kind of costume on and...”
“You’re taking me to Disneyland?!” you screamed, interrupting him fully surprised.
“I couldn’t keep it anymore so… surprise, babe? Any ideas on what I have just said to you?”
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alllgator-blood · 1 year ago
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I call this one "found family but it goes horribly wrong in an irreparable way" :)
I've been doing a lot of cotl comics but I kinda lost my comic making endurance after not working on art since last september, so I made this to help me flex my art muscles. Apologies for the watermarks lmao they kinda kill the mood but I've already had people repost my art when I put it on reddit so...might as well get the credit if my stuff is gonna be reposted regardless. RAMBLE INCOMING!!
Thinking about how shamura was most likely the one to find + raise their adopted siblings and help them survive the mass deicide that happened thousands of years before....OUUGH. I have so many ideas for comics that take place when half the bishops were still lil kids. I have one in progress right now actually. But it just hurts when I remember how it all ends- they loved their family for so long and yet they credit their love as what caused it to fall apart!!! The lore of the bishops only sunk in when I was dealing with my own heavy sibling angst, and I was like wow....shamura supported the sibs so much they accidentally encouraged their brother into being a heretic, and couldn't close pandora's box in time to save him or the rest of the family. They blame themself for the past 1,000 years and seem to be totally okay with dying for what they did?? Like when they get sent to the shadow realm they tell you to "finish the job" instead of leaving them in purgatory. And despite being the bishop of war, they are the only bishop to not have a "desperate" phase where their attacks get more brutal. They're not desperate, they just want to get it over with. All their other siblings are dead by then anyway so it's not like they have anything to stick around for, even if they were healthy enough to win the battle. Plus I mean...narinder is the bishop of death so they probably just want to see him one last time. Owch
Don't get me wrong I love to hate narinder and his only role in my cult is the guy who cleans the outhouse, but I really like his dynamic with shamura vs. the other siblings. I kinda see him as the troubled kid that couldn't assimilate into the family and shamura took it upon themself to try and fix him. It's interesting thinking about how they're the only one he shows remorse for despite feeling the most betrayed by them. I don't think he 100% hates them, he's just been locked in gay baby jail for so long he's had nothing better to think about than "my sibling encouraged me to experiment with my godly duties, and then punished me for it!!". He's not wrong? But also is shamura that wrong either??? Idk it's complicated with no real answer and I like it a lot, I wish the game told us more about what the bishops were like before they got their shit rocked during the schism. I would've loved to see shamura before their brain was turned to mush by their tbi + 1,000 years of suffocating grief and crushing guilt :)
ANYWAY thanks for making it to the bottom of this rant, here is a sketch I did a while ago of shamura + baby leshy from a prequel au thing I don't have a name for yet:
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everythingacotarbxm1012 · 1 year ago
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The Shadowsinger and the Emissary
Formerly : They're Mates - with Y/N Pt 1
Summary - Feyre meets Rhys's Inner Circle and witnesses the strength of the mating bond.
Warnings - abusive family mentioned.
Other Notes - 1k words; Please note that most of these lines/plot points are inspired or directly quoted from ACOMAF; I originally posted this where Reader was given the name 'Vee' but am putting this one out for anyone who might prefer y/n.
Part of The Shadowsinger and the Emissary Universe.
✨💫
Feyre looked up to see the same two males from earlier standing in the doorway, grinning, and a new presence. A beautiful female with wings like the others. She wore a deep blue gown that reached the floor––her hair resting over both her shoulders. The two males wore black leather with a sword strapped against their backs. Feyre noted the power each of them seemed to hold.
The male who was a bit large than the other, spoke up with a light chuckle. “We don’t bite. Unless you ask us to Feyre.”
The female shot him a pointed look. “Last time I checked, nobody wanted to take you up on that offer, Cassian.” The male who stood between the female and Cassian let out a light, short, laugh before whispering something into the female’s ear making her eyes twinkle subtly. Feyre watched as Cassian gave his own pointed look.
“No secrets in front of our guest, Az,” Cassian said with a grin.
The light danced across their faces allowing Feyre to observe their physical features for a moment. Similar to Rhysand, all three were dark-haired. Both males had tanned skin and hazel eyes. Feyre couldn’t quite tell the eye color of the female standing next to Az, but she gave off an air of beauty and power.
Cassian grinned again, looking Rhys and Feyre up and down. “You made poor Feyre dress up, brother,” he said before winking in her direction. His features were rough like someone had molded him, from the earth.
The second male was more classically beautiful, though hard to read. He was certainly the one who would be a surprise in the dark, the hidden knife. Feyre noticed the light sparkle in his eyes anytime he looked at the female to his left. It piqued a curiosity in Feyre.
Rhys said, “Azriel––my spymaster,” indicating the one in the middle. He then indicated the female. “Y/N. An emissary for the Night Court.” A name, Feyre later learned, Az had adopted for the emissary after she declared she did not want the name her abusive family had given her.
She immediately offered her hand with a warm smile. “Welcome, Feyre.” She gently squeezed Feyre’s hand before she quickly let go and Feyre does her best to not seem eager as she stepped back to stand next to the High Lord of the night Court, again.
“You’re brothers?” Feyre asked. The two males before her looked similar. The kind of similar where people who come from the same place do, not familial similar.
“All bastards are brothers in some sense,” Rhys responded, sticking his hands in his pockets.
Before Feyre could ask Cassian said, “And I command Rhys’s armies.”
Feyre nodded, shifting on her feet slightly before her eyes glanced to see Azriel taking another glance in the emissary’s direction. She looked right back with a smile that showed a clear fondness for the spymaster. The moment went as quickly as it came when Az turned his gaze to Feyre. “Cassian also excels at pissing everyone off. Especially amongst our friends. So, as a friend of Rhysand, good luck.”
Feyre was giving more attention to not being recognized as the girl Under the Mountain. She wondered, for just a moment if they knew––maybe they didn’t. That was quickly  answered when Cassian nudged past the Night Court’s spymaster requiring Az to flare his wings to keep himself balanced. Feyre watched Y/N’s hand fall to Azriel’s lower back to assist. Feyre noticed the fleeting moment of eye contact between the spymaster and the emissary, but it quickly became a second thought as Cassian asked his question about how Feyre had made the bone ladder in the Middengard Wyrm’s lair, when as he put it, “you looked like your own bones could snap at any moment.”
Y/N shot Cassian another pointed gaze, but it turned into a grin after Feyre made a sarcastic comment of her own. The general laughed and Azriel’s eyebrow lifted with approval as the shadows swirled around him, tighter. Feyre’s need to understand the gift only furthered when the shadows swirled up and around Y/N’s wrist playfully, before weaving around the ends of her hair.
Her curiosity once again was pushed to the side when Feyre heard, thankfully, a familiar voice…Mor. “I hope Cassian’s howling means Feyre told him to shut his fat mouth.”
Y/N quickly whispered something into Az’s ear, his shadows lightened slightly from around him. Feyre’s curiosity about the nature of their relationship increasing.
“I don’t know why I forget you two are related,” Cassian told Mor, while glancing over at Rhys for just a moment. “You two and your clothing.” The High Lord rolled his eyes, but Feyre had her own focus on the emissary and the spymaster who were both standing in silence, stealing glances at each other.
“I wanted to impress Feyre. You could have tried to make an effort to comb your hair,” Mor responded.
Cassian braced his feet a little farther apart on the floor in a fighting stance Feyre recognized, perhaps too well. “Unlike some people, I have better things to do with my time than sit in front of the mirror for hours,” the general bit back.
“Yes,” Mor the said, tossing her hair over her shoulder, “since swaggering around––”
“We have company,” Azriel said in a soft warning, spreading his wings as he tried to herd everyone.
“Relax, Az,” Mor said as she dodged the spymaster’s outstretched wing. “We won’t fight. We promised Rhys.”
Feyre barely noticed Az stop in his tracks, letting out the smallest of huff and his shadows seem to become thicker. She then watched as Y/N took one of Az’s hands in her own, gently pressing her lips to the back of it. His shadows lightened around him. Apparently the question about their relationship reached Feyre’s face because Rhys leaned down slightly to say, “They’re mates. Azriel and Y/N. They’ve known each other a little over 500 years and been mates just under 500.”
Feyre considered that fact, thinking there was something delicately beautiful about nearly 500 years of commitment between the two. Now she just had a few thousand more questions about the court’s spymaster and emissary. Question she decided were for another time as Mor indicated the empty seat beside her. Feyre knew the image of Az whispering into his mate’s ear and the twinkle in her eye would be etched into the back of her mind forever.
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onceuponaoneshotfanfic · 7 days ago
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A Man with a Mission in Two or Three Editions
Bob Floyd x Reader
1.9k words
Warnings: None. Fluff, Bob being a shy cutie, Rooster being a cocky wingman, a tiny bit of language
A/N: Trying something a little different after rewatching Top Gun: Maverick! I hope y'all like it ❤️
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Bob was a bookworm. To probably no one’s surprise, he’d been a voracious reader from the time he was still learning his ABC’s on Sesame Street. He was always the kid reading under the covers with a flashlight past his bedtime, annoying his teachers by finishing novels weeks ahead of the class schedule, crashing into light posts and trees because he just couldn’t take his nose out of his book. Hell, sometimes Phoenix had to grab a book out of his hand and stuff it in her purse in the middle of the Hard Deck bar because he’d missed his turn at pool. The man simply loved to read.
But somehow, that wasn’t the reason he spent so much time at the bookshop he was standing in on this drizzly Saturday morning. No, that would be the pretty pair of eyes that followed him from the cash register, the ones that always seemed to sparkle a bit brighter when the little ringing bell announced his arrival.
Normally, Bob liked to come in by himself, so he could quietly gaze at you while you shelved books or helped other customers, customers who weren’t rendered speechless by simply standing too close to you. It was a smidge ridiculous, he admitted to himself. He was in the Navy, a TOPGUN graduate, someone who, despite his bashful appearance, didn’t shy away from danger. But oh, he definitely shied away from the cute bookstore owner who smiled despite his fumbled one-word answers to the questions you asked about the books he bought. Those embarrassingly one-sided conversations were the highlight of his day. His week, really. Just the two of you in the quiet of your cozy little shop.
But no, not today. Today, Bradshaw just had to tag along. “Nothin' better to do,” his buddy had mumbled with a nonchalant shrug when Bob asked if he was sure he wanted to come to the bookstore.
Now, Rooster snuck up behind Bob, who was craning his neck around a bookshelf to get a glimpse of you, still managing to look cute despite the bored look on your face as you counted change in the register.
“Guess now we know why you’re in here all the damn time,” he teased, loud enough to make Bob’s cheeks burn red as he prayed you didn’t hear. “Reading three books a week, my ass.”
Bob let out a little huff as he turned towards Rooster, gritting his teeth. “Lower your voice,” he hissed.
“Why?” Rooster continued, his smirk growing when he saw how he was getting under his friend’s increasingly blushing skin. His eyes flickered to you before he called out, “Hey, honey? This ain’t a library, is it? Do I have to watch my volume?”
Your playful eyes flickered to Bob before settling on Rooster’s smug face. “Normally I’d say no need,” you started slowly. “But if you’re bugging my favorite customer there, I might just need to adopt a noise level policy.”
Favorite customer. The two little words danced in Bob’s ears, which were currently a deep shade of red. Despite the fact that he was here every Saturday morning like clockwork- and sometimes more than that if he could manage- and the fact that you always tried to engage him in conversation at the register, Bob hadn’t quite been sure you knew he existed until this moment. He’d been so sure he was just another customer, someone who blended in with every other person who walked through your door. Surely, you had plenty of customers who flirted with you; how was he, with his monosyllabic responses, supposed to stand out?
Still, there you were, smiling at him as Rooster clapped a hand on his shoulder and gave him a little shove. Bob stumbled forward, clutching the book he’d been carrying around, and approached your little counter.
He adjusted his glasses as he laid the book down in front of you. “Just this one today,” he murmured, barely loud enough for you to hear.
But you were used to his quietness. You liked it. “That’s one of my favorites,” you mused as you took your time finding the bar code that you could’ve found in your sleep. “You’ll have to tell me what you think.”
He nodded absently, his hands fidgeting on the countertop while he watched you scan the book. “Sure.” With a glance over his shoulder, he met Rooster’s eyes; his friend held his hands up, urging Bob to say something, anything, else. “Am I really your favorite customer?” he blurted out.
The small chuckle you breathed out made his heart skip a beat. “Well, one of my favorites,” you corrected, teasing dripping from your voice. “There’s also this dog that comes in with his elderly owner all the time, and this little toddler whose mom had brought her in since she was just a few months old.” Something sparkled in your eyes as you leaned forward on the counter and slid the book towards him. “But you’re definitely in the top three.”
“What’s he have to do to take first place?” Bob didn’t notice Rooster slink over to the register, but now one of those heavy arms slung over his shoulders. “Help a guy out,” he added with a wink.
Was Rooster flirting with you for him? Bob wondered with a wince. This was certainly a new low.
If you thought Rooster’s intervention was lame, you didn’t show it. In fact, your gaze remained firmly on Bob, although your words were in response to Rooster’s question. “How can he take first place,” you repeated with a small hum. “Maybe by asking for my number?” The smile you flashed Bob would have been enough to bring a man back from the brink of death. “Himself, though. No help from the peanut gallery.”
The air caught in Bob’s throat mid-breath. Sure, sometimes women flirted with him- but really, they were flirting with the uniform, not Bob. You, on the other hand, were smiling at the man in glasses who bumbled around your shop a couple times a week and trembled whenever you not-so-accidentally brushed your fingers against his while handing him his purchases. Just Bob.
He shrugged off Rooster’s arm and stood up straight as he could, the way he did whenever an admiral or captain walked by. Deep breath, he reminded himself as he clenched and unclenched his fists. She wants you to ask.
“Do you think I could get your number?” he asked, his voice sounding unfamiliar to his own ears.
That lovely smile widened as you leaned your cheek on your hand. “Depends what you plan to do with it,” you said. Challenged, really. After months of trying to get this guy to respond to your flirting, you were making him work for this. Just a little.
His throat went dry. Oh damn. “I…” He blinked, hoping he didn’t suddenly look as small as he felt. “I could use to… call you?” Your raised eyebrows urged him on. He kind of liked it, the way you emboldened him. He wanted more of it. “I would call you,” he repeated, a little more sure now. “And… I’d ask you out. For coffee.” Oh heck, it was so cute the way you wrinkled your nose. “Dinner,” he tried again; you rewarded him with the return of that dazzling smile. “And-and we’d talk all about the books we’ve read and the books you think I should read, and I’d ask you about your store and I’d even talk about my job, if you wanted me to. And I’d take you home after and walk you to your door and-” He swallowed hard, the flush on your cheeks giving him the courage to go full-speed ahead, fast as the fighter jet he’d just been flying the day before. “And before you go inside, I’d ask to see you again and if I could kiss you goodnight.”
After what felt like an eternity of you staring at Bob, studying him, you finally let out an amused little hum. “That’s the most I’ve ever heard you say,” you mused, drumming your fingernails on the book that still sat between the two of you. “Promise you’ll talk that much at dinner?”
Relief flooded his chest as he nodded. “Yes ma’am.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll talk as much as you want me to.”
“I’ll hold you to that.” Still holding his gaze, you reached over for a flyer advertising a book and wine night you were hosting the following week- an event Bob had already decided he’d be going to, of course- and used a glittery blue pen to scribble down your name and number. “I’m free tonight, by the way.”
Dazed was the only word to describe Bob as he took the flyer from you. “Tonight,” he echoed, a smile finally stretching across his face. “I’ll, uh, see you tonight.” He looked down at the flyer, admiring your looping letters, the way the glittery ink caught the light, your name- oh. “I’m Robert, by the way,” he blurted out. “Or Bob. Everyone calls me Bob. It’s my callsign.”
It looked like now that you had him talking, he didn’t know how to stop. And it was pretty damn cute, if you were being totally honest. “Nice to finally meet you, Bob.”
“Nice to meet you too.” His shoulders finally relaxed as he just stared at you, the ghost of a smile on his face. “Really nice.”
He probably would have stayed there all day, just taking in the sight of your pretty smile and basking in the pride of finally successfully speaking more than two words to you. But Bradshaw clapped a hand on his shoulder, breaking his gaze from yours.
“Why don’t we let this lady get back to work,” he suggested with a shit-eating grin, “and I help you figure out where you’re taking her for dinner tonight?”
Bob nodded, quickly turning his eyes back to you; oh, thank God, you were still smiling at him. “I’ll see you later,” he promised, raising his hand in a half wave as Rooster finally started dragging him away. “And- and I’ll call you.”
 “You better,” you teased, casually tossing his forgotten book to him; he barely caught it. “Because I’m looking forward to answering your question.”
He paused in the doorway, brows furrowed. “My question?”
You nodded, eyes flittering up and down his figure. “Whether or not you can kiss me.”
“Oh.” He looked down, all of his bashfulness returning with a vengeance. When he looked back at you, you were still grinning. “I hope you say yes,” he admitted, barely loud enough for you to hear.
“Guess you’ll find out tonight.” You offered him a little wave as Rooster yanked him out the door. “Bye, Bob.”
“Goodbye-” But the door had already closed behind him. Bob allowed Rooster to drag him down the block a ways before finally regaining control of his steps. When he looked at his friend, he found the smuggest grin waiting for him.
Rooster chuckled and ruffled Bob’s hair. “You don’t gotta thank me,” he razzed. “Just promise me I’ll be the best man at your wedding.”
Bob grinned and shoved his friend off him. “I think Phoenix’ll fight you on that one. She’s already called dibs.” He glanced down at the flyer and book in his hands, reminders that your conversation really just happened. That you actually wanted to go out with him- and might even let him kiss you.
He’d barely settled into the passenger seat of the car when he pulled out his phone and began typing, ignoring Rooster’s knowing smirk. Sure, maybe it was a little sooner than you expected. But Bob couldn’t help himself; while he didn’t usually read love stories, he knew that he wanted this one to begin as soon as possible.
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deesseshesca · 5 months ago
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PAC : How can u express your affection to your partner while having sex ? (18+)
Oh...Today drain me...
Good evening pretty souls ! I am so excited ... IS OFFICIALLY KINKTOBER ! DAY : 17-18
You want to have a more detailed readings (for 2.22$), you can join my Chérie d'Amour (soul tribe)
SEX Doula =SALE READING
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PILE 1 
Strenght (reverse), knight of wands (reverse),8 cups, 9 pentacles 
You guys are very photogenic. Your friends love taking pictures of you and may even do it without you knowing. Y’all are very aesthetically pleasing people. On the other hand, y’all can’t not take a good picture to save yourself. You are incapable of finding the angle or even placing the phone properly, worse than boomers for some. Which ends up pissing off your friends. Y’all are not tech savvy. We are lucky you even know how to use your phone. 
The way you show your affection is by having no control on the relationship. Wherever the flow brings y’all, you cool with it. You don’t care for labels and you are down for literally anything. Don’t care and you will never care for the title ‘’ relationship’’, you don’t mind being ‘’just friends’’ forever. You guys can move in together, fuck each other cuddle, go to hopsital appointment and share y’all deepest secret and even convince a kid with no title. You will not have shame or even be scared to explain your situation to people around you because you don’t mind how unorthodox it is. That being said for technicalities, you will allow your partner to explore sexual endeavors with other people. Even allowing them to hold their own independence meaning living in the same house but sleeping in different bedrooms. If y’all share an abundance with each other, you can share a mansion. Like the east side is yours and the south side is his/hers. You will show your affection by holding no taboo against them. They can possess any sex toys; they might  even introduce you to their sex dolls, if they feel like it. Y’all may not even have sex at all… some of y’all is giving lavender marriage. Maybee ? I don’t know ? I have no clear indication of such but the way I am writing it, it sure sounds like it. Another way to show your affection is by  accepting their belief, y’all may have different religion or practice. Lastly you may show your affection  by not expecting anything material from them  (which lowkey breaks one of the principles  of Lavender marriage …). You don’t expect a ring, a car, or even roses on valentine day’s. All things said , it is really a show of going with the flow. If they decide to do it, you don’t mind doing it too. If they dim all the little gestures unnecessary then so do you. Ultimately your ‘’ no pressure’’ attitude is going to be the best way you show affection to them which can simulate their sexual appetite. 
💌 : FIND OUT, How your partner use their fingers in the bedroom ? on Ko-fi.
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PILE 2 
Queen swords, 4 swords, 7 pentacles (reverse), 2 pentacles
Y’all are adopted. Y’all were in the system until 10 years old ( max ) then your life took another turn for the best. You always loved your adoptive family. They always welcomed you and poured into you. The whole family is always showering you with gifts, affection and support but you need an answer. You got them, you quickly realize that you dodge the bullet. Your biological family may be very abusive. 
The way you show your affection with your partner in a sexual setting starts with foreplay. You may indulge in giving your full attention to them. You are the perfect boyfriend/girlfriend for nerds. You will let them rant bout all the rules in the new fantasy world in which they are obese about while giving them the ‘’fuck me’’ eyes. You have beautiful brown eyes with stars in them when you are looking at something that you love. Sex apart, they love the way you look at them. You make them feel like the most loved human  being with only a look from you. The appreciation, tenderness, passion all of it in the iris of your eyes is making them love sick. Back to the sex, the way you listen and UNDERSTAND (at least try) make them feel fucking special. You even go as far as engaging in conversation with them which they looooove. Even when you are clumsy with the concept of a subject you don’t get mad when they correct you. Artists would be the perfect pair for you too. Not only are you the perfect muse (we are going to get into it later…) but you are a smart one. You don’t mind diving into the critics of philosopher, you don’t mind debating who is the best musician of the Renaissance, you don’t mind sitting down and letting your partner paint your back when they are overstimulated and you don’t mind listening to your partner singing for hours until they find perfect note. You have the patience of a God and that makes them want to give it all to you. Honestly you love discussing and especially debating because that’s why you turn on. So everything I listed is something they naturally do and everything is a way to get your panties wet/cock hard. Yes, paint on bareback and let your hand caress. Yes, sing to me how good I make you feel in between  the sheets. Yes, debate the principle of Aristotle  with me and show your passion. I love how you are trying to make your point while at the same focusing on my juicy lips.  Ok! Pile 2, your energy fully took over for a minute. Another way you show your affection is by making sure they reach their orgasm. It doesn't matter if they are tired after going hammers into you and making you cum at least 3 times.It doesn't matter if you are worn out. You need them to cum or you are dying … Ok a bit dramatic… (I feel like y’all are natural drama queen/king). You will give them a handjob  or you will rub their clit. You will do what is require for with the power still left in you to deliver your duty (Like I said fucking dramatic). Plus you will love to dive into the pleasure of a long intensive edging session, y’all can go for weeks edging. Playing with each other without actually reaching the sinful need of the body. Building the orgasm with each other and not cheating even when  you are really really really horny. Is almost a principle of respect for you. Lastly, you are acceptive of them in the bedroom. You don’t shame them for their kinks, you encourage them to go for it. You allow an open and affectionate communication for y’all to discuss y'all fantasy, kinks , experience, need, want, desire, etc… 
💌 : Also don't feel bad because you have leaned on your partner through out the whole quest to your roots adventure. While you were trying to puzzle the truth regarding your identity, your partner felt needed and not at all annoyed. So relief yourself from that guilt. They are fine. FIND OUT, How your partner use their fingers in the bedroom ? on Ko-fi.
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PILE 3 
9 wands (reverse), 2 cups, Knight wands, Tower (reverse) 
Y’all are going through it mentally. You are deep in a depression rut. Y’all are victime of sexual harassment and you are healing. Is not as bad as it was but you know… sometimes the voice gets loud all over again. I am sending all the love I can,your way. You and I know it is going to get better and that the worse will pass. You just need to hang in there until you find the pace and you power back again. You knew your ex before y’all became a couple. He was a good friend when the accident happened and he came back into your life. He did not mean to leave you, you know we get busy with life and distance gets created.  Naturally the Divine opens a path for you to welcome them back into your life. Then you open up and it was good and got very bad again. So you decide to cut the relationship so you can heal some more without being a burden. They are going insane Pile 3. Don’t get me wrong, they are respecting your choice. But I have the vision of someone tearing up while doing their homework. Everytime they get back into their apartment at the end of the day, they literally get in a fetus position for a good 5 minutes reminiscing about you. They pray often which is ironic since they never believe in God or anything like that. Begging them to give them your pain and leaving you alone. That you suffer enough. The tears also are not something they do. Is not that they are emotionally available, they are just very masculine . 
This section of the reading is from their POV . 
They love making love to you. They love caressing you. They love your cellulite. They love your small boobs, they love your stomach, they love your thick tights ( I’m so sorry but I need to say that I am fucking rooting for them. Out here pushing through the tears to deliver the message. Ironic, I rarely get REALLY emotional. If only you could feel what I am feeling …) and they love your hair  (another message came through, One of your ex told you he hurted you because you were ugly and that he cheated because he loved blond … your man (I know y’all are not together but I am FUCKING rooting fo them) is screaming : I LOVE YOUR BROWN HAIR !). They kissed every part of you because they wished to make all the bad memories go away. They wish they could erase any trace of your abuser away. Is not about lust, it is all about the true passion that goes straight to their dick when they see you. Is not about owning you or winning you over. Is about protecting you and giving you the love you always deserve. They love having sex with you. When y’all were together, you could not keep y’all hands off each other. In a fucked up way you brain twisted that damm information (swear I am not mad at your brain, she is a victim too. So she is doing anything in her power to protect herself) making you feel that they only want you because of sex. Because that’s all a man can ever want from you. That’s all you are good for. You are undeserving of love because you are broken good ( Yes… Is me … again … YOU ARE NOT FUCKING BROKEN GOOD ! YOU HEARD ME ! You better tell your brain to get her shit together real quick. Is going to take time but let’s start by dropping the concept that you are damaged goods. I don’t want you to EVER think that.) The reality is they love you so much they can’t resist you. The mere fact that they can indulge in your affection is their biggest blessing. They are so grateful (Going back to their prayers, they are grateful that the Divine kept you alive and safe until you came back to them) that they get to share intimate moments with you. That you even let them see you in that seductive light. There’s nothing you can, God can do, I can do that's going to stop them from going back to you. There’s nothing that happens to you no matter how bad it is, that’s going to disgust them . There's nothing you can do that’s going to make them run away. Ever since you came back into their life, the flowers bloom, the sun shines and the birds chip. You brought the color back into their life. You brought joy to the mundane. Sex with you is an explosion of good feelings, fireworks even. They love sliding into you, seeing your face twisting in pleasure not in pain. A pleasure they are giving you and a pain they are protecting you from, safe in his presence . They often push you to keep your eyes focused on them because they want you to see you are safe. You are loved and you choose a good one proving you it was never your fault. Nothing you could have done was worth that punishment. 
***BONUS***
How can you cope with your sexual wound ? 
Spirit has an extra message dedicated to you. 
The ultimate problem of this relationship is the perception of yourself. Before we get any further, I am not here to hurt you (Trust me, I understand you more than you think). You need to contextualize what happened to you. Maybe you are not ready to get help, maybe you are not ready to talk about… fuck maybe you just not ready to deal with it but you need to realize that he is not him. I understand that your brain wants to protect you from all the ‘’him’’. Maybe repeat to yourself out loud, ‘’ (His name) is not my enemy. He is my true lover’’ everyday while you're taking a shower. When  you are caressing your body with soap, remind her, she is ok with (his name). Is important that you precise the name for your body to understand that only him at least with him everything is alright. You need to find a way to make your brain and body understand that he is your protector and lover. Because your soul knows he is home. You may not know about the rest and you got hurt by the rest but him… never him … he is all love. I know you are suffering but keeping him away is killing y'all more than you think. I am not telling you to break your boundaries or get back with him, now. You can shoot him a text. Small text here and there, telling him, you are ok , you ate. It can even be random as you telling him you are watching your favorite TV show. Let your brain get used to craving intimacy at a healthy pace.  Plus it will greatly ease his mind. Please stop dissociating while you are having sex (Bestie speaking from experience, don’t do it because it can become a habit … when that happens … you will try anything to go back to feeling something …), if you feel like you can’t do it, express it. I don’t care if you are in the middle of an act. I don’t care if you feel horny but you got triggered. I DON’T CARE … take a break, regulate your nervous system and come back. Last let yourself heal, there’s no race when it come to this fuck up mess. Stop comparing yourself to your past and let yourself discover the new you, who survive one of the most terrorizing situations. Much love Chérie d’Amour, you got this and I DO … love you. 
💌 : FIND OUT, How your partner use their fingers in the bedroom ? on Ko-fi.
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magicswordszin · 7 days ago
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You're My Witch
“you’re my witch,” the doll says simply when I ask why it was following me.
“I’m not a witch.” It’s a little sad to see an abandoned doll, but it’s more annoying that it imprinted on me. I finish my coffee and stand up to leave. “I hope you find her.”
It doesn’t answer, just stands up with me and follows, walking a few steps behind down the sidewalk. I sigh, hoping people won’t get the wrong idea. Well, it’s not like anyone else will mistake me for a witch. When I go to work, the doll waits outside. I keep glancing out the window, thinking that it will have gotten bored and left, but it’s probably silly to think that a doll will get bored.
“How long are you going to keep this up?” I ask on my lunch break.
It shrugs at me, then after my shift it follows me home.
“Please leave me alone.”
“sorry,” it says, not sounding sorry at all.
It waits outside my apartment building. I consider calling the cops on it, but then I think about what they might do to it if it doesn’t go away. The doll doesn’t deserve that. It isn’t like it’s dangerous. Just a little annoying. I wake up in the middle of the night and look outside. It’s still there, standing still in the shadow between the garages, where it can be seen from my window. It’s not look toward me, though.
It isn’t trying to peer inside like a stalker; it just wants to make sure I can see it.
I put on clothes and go outside.
“It’s kind of chilly out.”
“don’t worry about me, miss. this one doesn’t feel the cold.”
I suppose that makes sense. It isn’t shivering or anything.
“Can I get you anything? You don’t…eat, right?”
“this one does not. but…if you could wind its key, it would be grateful.”
I’m not totally sure I want its gratitude, but it turns around to show the key on its back. I wind it a few times until it says “thank you, that’s enough.” And then I go back inside.
It follows me around again the next day, too. When I go home, I think about it standing out in the parking lot again and get sad, so I ask “Would you like to come inside?”
“this one has no particular preference.”
“Okay,” I say, “well, it’ll bother me, so if you’re just going to stand out in the cold otherwise, then please come in.”
“yes, miss.”
“Don’t call me miss.”
“oh. would…sir be preferable?”
“Listen, just call me Mike.”
“yes, sir, michael.”
*
Letting the doll in was maybe a mistake. It solved one problem, because the doll no longer follows me around all day long. But now I have a roommate that insists on cleaning up after me.
“You don’t need to do that.”
The doll pauses momentarily in cleaning the oven to shrug.
“Please, stop.”
It looks up at me, blinks, and stops. Just fully freezes in place. I panic, then make sure its key hasn’t wound down. No, it’s fine. It’s pouting because I told it not to clean the stupid oven. Well, that won’t work on me. I pull it out of the way, put away the cleaning supplies, and go about my business. But the next morning when it’s still frozen in place in the kitchen I snap.
“Okay, okay, fine,” I say. It starts moving again as though nothing had happened. It pulls out the cleaning supplies and resumes the job. “I’m sorry.”
“it’s quite alright,” it say, utterly without rancor. “it is difficult to become a witch.”
“I’m not a witch.”
The doll smiles at me.
*
I have to watch what I say around it, because if it sounds like I’m giving it an order, it will do it. I have to watch what I do around it, because if I thoughtlessly make a mess, it will immediately start cleaning it up. It’s stressful. I think about what I’m doing all the time now. I didn’t want to adopt this stupid doll and now my whole damn life is based around it.
It’s better, though. My apartment is so much nicer when it’s clean. And it feels nice to clean up after myself so that the doll doesn’t have to. I’m eating a lot better, too, because I don’t want to just eat frozen pizza when it’s watching and it helps carry the groceries. It makes me tea in the afternoon, which I always thought was something I wouldn’t like but is actually pretty good.
The doll doesn’t talk much, but that’s okay because I don’t either. I used to do a lot of online gaming, but I’ve started preferring the doll’s silent companionship.
I still feel bad, though. It’s expecting something from me.
“I’d like to be a witch for you,” I tell it, “but I don’t know how.”
“a witch is not something you do. it is something you are.” It shrugs. “don’t worry. you don’t need to do anything. you’re my witch.”
I’m not, though.
*
I go to a witch bar. I think, maybe I’ll ask someone about what’s going on. A real witch will know what I should do. But when I walk by the doors and see the witches and dolls inside, I feel like such an impostor that I can’t bring myself to go in. I wish I had the confidence in myself that my doll does.
I do my best to take care of it. I wind its key. I make tea for it. I sit in stillness with it.
When I go out with my friends I find I have little to say. My life has gotten fairly simple. “A doll followed me home a month ago.”
“Have you fucked it?”
I leave.
“It’s not that kind of doll,” I hear myself saying.
“That’s too bad.”
At home, it sees the look on my face and says “do you want to?”
“It wouldn’t be right.”
“you’re my witch. it is perfectly alright.”
“Um. Maybe, when I believe that more. Okay?”
“yes, sir.”
“Don’t call me sir.”
The doll starts sleeping in my bed. I’m cold a lot of the time now, and it doesn’t warm me up, but it’s something. Something is changing. I get a little excited. Maybe this is what it means to become a witch.
I start taking estrogen. Just in case that will help.
*
a year passes. i hardly even realize it.
i'm still not a witch, but it no longer worries me.
i am cool and smooth to the touch. my doll and i go hand in hand to the grocery store. i lost my job and got a new one. i am better at this one, although it pays less. i have fewer friends, but the friends that I have understand me better. i wind my doll’s key and she winds mine.
and finally one day i say “you made a mistake. i was a doll all along.”
my doll smiles at me and says “you still seem like a witch to me.”
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sizzlingcloudmentality · 13 days ago
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good kitty
Dave York x f!reader | wc: ~2k | explicit, mdni | ao3
summary: Dave wants a cat but ends up with you. his favorite thing to do? letting the kitty drink fresh cream.
warnings: smut, no y/n, established relationship, d/s dynamics, pet play-ish, soft dom!Dave, dick pronouns, handjob, a sprinkle of cock and balls worship, a dash of spit play, petnames (kitty, duh, baby x1), cum play, cum eating, daddy kink
a/n: i'm back on my Dave bullshit, let me hear you say wayo. btw i am the kitty in question, in case anyone wondered. forever grateful for @guiltyasdave's help and beta, she, too, is the kitty in question <3
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His apartment felt awfully empty with no wife and kids around. It did not only feel empty but also lifeless, loveless. So Dave thought about a pet. He needed something more self-sufficient than a dog.
Maybe a cat then? He half heartedly started walking down the path of getting a pet and at a crossroad he stopped. It was either adopt a cat from the shelter or take home that cute girl that works at the shelter.
He chose you. You're so much better than a cat but unfortunately not as self-sufficient. You demand a lot of attention. And care. And reassurance. Yet he loves coming home now. Loves finding you in his apartment, giddy from whatever mischief you got yourself into that day, happy to see him again, hungry for every ounce of attention he is offering you.
He always thought he'd be more of a dog person, concerning every aspect of pet keeping. Snapping his fingers, whistling, a scoffed command and a dog obeys. They love to serve their master. A cat? Not so much. 
Snapping his fingers at you only makes you roll on your back and yawn. Whistling to get your attention only gives you zoomies and giggly fits. Trying to discipline you lets you hiss and shove glasses off the table. Pushing you off his chest to get up lets you sulk and brood.  
You are a handful. Two handfuls really and Dave is amazed by the patience he can muster for you. He is convinced that you need a spanking every single day but that would just make you leave. And it would turn his apartment into a life- and loveless space again. He has to become a cat person for you.
That's how Dave slowly learns to appreciate the big and small joys you bring him. The scratches on his back. Your pretty mews. The grace with which you arch and bend and stretch for him. Around him. 
He loves when you busy yourself with your favorite toys. Like his zipper. Up, down, up, down it goes the moment he sits down on the couch. Dave doesn't know who trained who because the moment one of your fingers disappears in the gaping fly he feels himself twitch. Every single time. And when you paw at him, curious as ever about what wondrous thing might be hiding inside of his pants this time, he feels himself swell and grow hard. Every. Single. Time.
And every time you look up at him then - with your eyes wide and your mouth agape - he feels special and truly wanted.
“You've been good today? Been a good little kitty?” he asks, already knowing the answer.
You nod your head eagerly and muffle an of course into his palm when he cradles your face in his hand.
“That so?” He gently pinches your earlobe, just to draw one of those adorable hisses out of you.
You hiss - like always - and he smiles.
“Behave yourself. Only good kitties get a reward.”
With a smooth movement you slide off the couch and end up kneeling, nudging his legs apart just a little more. Perhaps he was successful with training his precious pet, he thinks while he is shifting to the edge of the couch. You're already pawing at him again, slightly grazing over the button of his pants.
Dave tuts, “Ah ah ah, what did I tell you about being respectful?”
“Please,” you grumble, clearly not caring about being respectful at all. Until he pinches your chin between his thumb and forefinger and gives you a little shake.
“Try again. Or you're going to bed tonight without the treat.” He shakes your chin again before he leans closer, looking down to you. “And you want your treat, right?”
“Yes, please,” you answer, sounding more convincing now. You really do want that treat. You fucking love that treat. You lick your lips, your eyes flicker down to Dave’s inviting looking bulge right in front of you. “Please, can I take him out and touch him? I'll be good, I promise.”
“That's better,” he hums and leans back, his arms crossed behind his head. “Go get Daddy's dick. You can have him.” He thrusts his hips upwards, just enough to make you lick your lips again. Such a hungry little thing. “Make Daddy proud. Show him how good you are at playing with him.”
You don't need more permission than that. With practiced moves you peel layer after layer of fabric away to uncover your favorite toy. He is already hard enough for you, slightly curved, the dim light of the room catching on the tiny spot of wetness right on top. 
You tap Dave’s cock with a finger, smiling when he swings a little. Your hand wraps around the shaft and squeezes until he throbs and Dave grunts. It's your favorite game, to make Daddy's cock bounce and bob and throb and leak. You shuffle closer, the carpet biting at your knees but you don't mind it. Slightly bent forward you open your mouth and let your saliva drivel onto him. But it's not nearly enough to start jerking him off. You whine, the frustration carved between your brows as you look up at Dave.
“I need your help, please,” you say, smearing your drool over the blunt head of his dick. "Please?"
He groans at the sight of you kneeling between his legs, your mouth wide open for him. One of these days you might kill him with how perfect you are. He leans to the front with one hand reaching out to hold your head still.
“There you go,” he husks and spits into your mouth. “What a considerate little kitty I own.”
His warm spit tastes so tempting that you are considering swallowing it. But he wouldn't like that and probably not let you have your treat. So you roll it around on your tongue instead before carefully drooling everything all over his cock. 
You're not allowed to take him into your mouth, that's only for when you've been extra good. But his balls, daddy likes those being licked. And while you slowly start spreading your mixed saliva with a few lazy strokes you also nuzzle his balls. Another one of your favorite games, to feel Dave squirm every time you make his balls tighten and move and shrivel. You give them a kiss - each one gets its own - and a few kitten licks.
“You smell so good, Daddy,” you murmur and look up at him from beneath your lashes, licking his balls again, this time with your tongue flattened.
Dave knows he probably doesn't smell too good after 12 hours in the same briefs. But he found himself a special little kitty, one that seems to really like him. Or is perverted enough to enjoy a pair of sweaty balls. Perhaps it's both.
“You think so?” He exhales through his nose and bites back a groan when you try to suck him into your mouth.
“Mhmm,” you hum with Dave’s one ball now in your mouth and your hand moving up and down his cock. You know how he likes it: first firm, slow strokes, then faster pumps of just the upper half, twisting and flicking your hand over his pretty tip until Dave’s hips twitch and he starts hissing.
You are doing him in today. Usually he is good with holding back and letting you have your little fun with him. But not today. You are getting too good at this, your hands working him good, both hands now. He can barely hear the obscene slurps coming from you over the squelching pumps and his own groans. You suck harder on his balls, now that they start to tighten and announce the inevitable. 
Dave can see that line grow between your brows as they knit together. You know it too, playtime will be over soon. You don't like that, and just when you're thinking about complaining Dave snarls.
“Don’t. You promised to be… fuck… promised to be good,” he says through gritted teeth. Your hands slow down - just a little bit - and Dave bucks into your tight fists. “You’re going to make Daddy cum. Is that-...” One of his big hands pushes you back into his crotch when you were just pulling back. “... understood?” 
He feels your head bob up and down, your mouth already latched onto his balls again. You whine against his spit-wet balls - mouthy as ever, Dave thinks and pulls you a little deeper between his legs. 
“That's a good kitty. Nice and…” He cuts himself off with a grunt when you find the perfect pace and pressure with your hands. Christ, he's going to cum so hard.
You jerk him off meticulously now. Your eyes are fixed on his face, each one of the little twitches and snarls he can’t hold back have you rutting against nothing. Each one of his moans and hissed fucks lets you answer with a needy mew, your hips rocking back and forth in the same rhythm as your hands pump him.
Dave loves it, to have you reduced to this wanton, needy grown woman. He'd let you have a pillow to hump, but you gave him too much attitude. You will have to learn the hard way: no respect, no release. For you at least. Because he is right there.
“Ready for a treat from Daddy?” A sheen layer of sweat shimmers on his forehead when he husks the words out. You nod your head again, letting go of his balls and open your mouth, ready to jerk Dave’s cum right into it.
“Not like that,” he chuckles and it sounds a little mean. “Off,” Dave commands, the urgency clear in his voice and the speed with which he takes over and fucks his fist.
You love it, to be able to make him moan. To watch him jerk himself off right in front of your open mouth is a close second though. You clamp your thighs together, squirming on your knees, ready to feel Dave cum all over your face. One of your hands cradles his balls and gently tugs and squeezes them.
“Fuck, that's perfect,” Dave growls and with a few hard jerks he tips over the edge. Your eyes are shut tightly, expecting to feel spurts of hot cum landing on your face. But there's nothing, just Dave panting and grunting and the unmistakable squelches of him milking himself. Hell, you can smell him. You blink your eyes open only to feel your pussy ache even more at the sight before you.
Dave jerks his load into his free hand, it’s a bit messy, running between his fingers, but most of it sits in the palm of his hand, warm, opaque, thick. He loves coming in your mouth, loves to feel you sucking him dry. But every once in a while he likes to handfeed you.
“C'mere,” he rasps and holds his cupped hand out for you. “Daddy’s got your treat.”
A choked whimper comes from you, your tongue slowly sticking back out until you feel the warm cum on the tip of it. You pull it back into your mouth, mewing when the first note of saltiness spreads in your mouth.
“I know, baby,” Dave croons, still stroking himself. “Be good and drink up. Daddy really made an effort for this, hm?”
“Yes, thank you,” you whisper and look at him as if he just gave you your favorite thing in the world. Then you lower your head even more, your pink tongue dips back into his cum before it disappears in your mouth again. The quick, rhythmic lapping and slurping sounds fill the space between you and Dave, accompanied by your quiet purr.
“Such a good kitty for me,” he sighs softly while he watches you drink from his hand.
Clear droplets gather at the edge of your chin, glistening before falling back into his palm. After more sips, you start licking his hand clean, then his fingers, making sure to get every single drop. Finally you lift your head, blinking lazily, satisfied, hiccuping.
“No need to be so greedy.” He chuckles, his cleaned palm now cradling your wet chin. He leans in and kisses your forehead. “Daddy’s giving you some more cream tomorrow!”
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comment and reblog to be handfed by Dave (or to let me know you liked this story, whatever you prefer!)
wanna read some more kinky Dave? then you might like exhibitionistic! and degrading!Dave in let them see
Dave York masterlist here
general masterlist here
dividers: @steddiecameraroll-graphics
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heerinnie · 10 months ago
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Imagine having threesome with heehoon, like they both would tease you, and make you beg for their dicks. Tie you on the bed and fill your ass and cunt at the same time. Or cover your eyes with a blindfold and than fuck you one by one and ask you who is it? And when you tell them the wrong answer, they would go extra rough on you and make your body go numb and I can imagine them cursing alot while fucking you senselessly. Like "yeah, you like that slut. You like being railed by two dicks at the same time" "wrong answer whore, now get your ass up and be ready for the punishment"
RAH 🦅DONT EVEN because I love your brain rn.
Ngl i see Hoon and Hee as two different people in bed. Hoon seems like the kind of individual who would push you to your limits and make you feel inferior, 100% hard mean dom that punishes you even when you happen to laugh at a joke told by a guy other than him or Hee and then asking you if his joke really was funny or if you wanted to add a groupie to your roster. His behaviour could be seen as toxic in some situations but after fucking you dumb know he didn't mean a single word he said. Outside of the bedroom he really is an amazing and compassionate boyfie completely contrasting his wild and animalistic side in bed.
On the other hand, Hee comes across as someone who’s gentle with you, a soft dom if I do say so myself. He’d whisper gentle words of praise in your ear, cooing at you for taking him so well and for all the ways you'd let him have your body and mind. Now this might come out of nowhere but I must spread my heesub agenda. This man is such a switch, he’d be a soft dom in bed but the biggest brat known to man if you take control. And absolute menace because nothing beats the way your irritated brow twitched when he spoke back and he just lived when you took it out on him.
Now all of that mixed in with being in a poly relationship with these two? I don't know about you but I’m sold.
They would take turns using you one by one and revel in it. The hard thrusts of Hoon using you like a fleshlight, bruising your hips with his grip along with Hee whispering sweet nothings and telling you about how much of a good girl you are for taking him while sucking and playing with your tit would send you into overdrive, turning your mind into nothing but mush.
On most occasions things would happen the usual way as expected, the opposite parallels of your two boyfriends domming would never bore you so you couldn't complain much. However, there were some days when Heeseung's behaviour and demeanour would take a complete U-turn, surprising both you and Hoon, wondering where your sweet man went. He would align himself with Hoon's attitude, which was quite different from his usual self and he would adopt an entirely different attitude to how he treats you during sex. Same goes with hoon, there ware days where he sees your struggling and would take hours taking care of you whether it’d be eating you out until you couldn’t remember the issue or making love to you telling you how beautiful you’d look carrying his and seungie’s babies.
Back to sub hee, god when you three fuck but hee subs it’s like something straight out of porn. Moaning and whining as you play with his cock and balls teasing and edging him all whilst sunghoon fucks you in doggy like an animal in heat. Slurring degradation and praise towards you both. I’m convulsing.
I hope what you gathered from this is that their duality would be insane, I'm insane, i need them NOW.
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warping-realities · 4 months ago
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All For The Family - Part I
That was the only part of his job that Brian dislike, even though it was necessary. To justify what he had to do, he told himself those folks deserved it, that they should’ve been more careful with their own bills and the loans they took out, and paid their mortgage right. It wasn’t his fault. He was just there to deliver the truth they were probably expecting anyway. He tried to adopt a “don’t shoot the messenger” attitude while also showing he felt for their situation, even though he still had to do his job. That rarely worked in the two years he’d been doing that gig, and this time was no different. The blonde 24 years old man, rockin' a sharp suit that fit him like a glove on his skinny frame paired with his glasses, he was supposed to look classy and confident. Which clearly didn’t have the intended effect on the crowd he was facing. Standing in front of him with his arms crossed and a look on his face like he just sucked on a lemon was the biggest man Brian had ever seen in his life.
“You gotta understand, Mr. Abernathy, that the promissory note’s overdue again. If you don’t cough up the cash, the bank won’t have any choice but to foreclose and take your land to auction.”
“I get it, kid, but it seems like you’re the one refusing to understand. Tomorrow, I’m getting another hand to help with the harvest, and we’ll pay up all the back dues and even get ahead on a few!”
“Mr. Abernathy… Roy, can I call you Roy?” Brian asked with a smile he hoped was friendly and not showing the frustration he felt at that moment.
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“My friends call me Roy, kid; you ain’t my friend.”
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Brian let out a sigh at that response and decided to drop the pleasantries, taking a more hard-nosed approach.
“Well, Mr. Abernathy, I hate to break it to you, but if that promise of yours doesn’t pan out, I’m afraid that come the first of next month, you and your family are gonna have to vacate this property.”
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“Save your worries for yourself, kid, while you hightail it off my land, ‘cause for now, I’m the one who decides who comes and goes around here.”
“If you weren’t planning on negotiating at all, why’d you make me drive all the way out here?”
“‘Cause there are some things that need to be said and done face-to-face, son.”
“Well, next time, just call me if you got something important to say!”
With a huff, Brian turned his back on the older, muscular man and headed toward the sports car parked behind the big barn that flanked the simple but well-kept farmhouse.
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As he watched the kid walk away, unaware of the wave of golden sparks emanating from him, Roy murmured to himself, “Next time we talk, you’ll take whatever I say as important, boy!” He said, flashing a wide grin before turning to a figure that was approaching. “Is it done?” he asked, his smile widening at the answer.
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That spat with the Abernathy family patriarch left Brian pissed off. Still, he couldn’t shake the thought that it might be through his work that those folks would lose everything. At the same time, he knew that if it were his older brother knocking on that door, dressed in his cop uniform, the treatment would’ve been a whole lot different. Of course, he could never pull off Lucas's job. Lost in those gloomy thoughts, he took a while to realize that the gas tank he filled up that very morning was nearly empty, and it was only when a beeping alert rang out that he noticed.
“Damn, how is this possible?” he exclaimed to the empty car as he pulled over to the side of the road and weighed his options. Looking at his cell, he found he was out of signal. The nearest town was miles away. The only option left...
“Damn!” he yelled again, getting out of the car and shrugging off his suit jacket, heading toward the Abernathy’s place, wondering what kind of reception he was gonna get. No matter how much empathy he might have started to feel for those folks, it surely wouldn’t be mutual. Halfway to the farm, the already bad situation took a turn for the worse when rain started pouring down, soaking Brian's expensive clothes.
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For the first time in his life, he felt like he was being punished by some higher power for doing that job, and he was sure of it when he ran smack into the person he needed but didn’t want to see: Roy Abernathy in all his bulk! He was standing in front of an old Ford pickup, arms crossed again, but this time with a grin that Brian would’ve usually taken for some petty celebration, but at that moment it seemed to him to have more sincerity than he was used to seeing from “clients.” The man was with someone who could only be his son, given the huge resemblance between the two. Those behemoths made for a frightening sight for Brian, leaving him speechless. However, he didn’t even get a chance to speak, as Roy started the conversation for him.
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“Looks like you need a little help, son. Where’s your fancy car?”
“I… the gas…”
“Oh, I get it; it’s real reckless to be out here with an empty tank.” The man said, still grinning, and Brian initially felt like he was just saying that to mess with him. But quickly, a small voice in the back of his mind disagreed; the Abernathys weren’t stingy like that. That new, dissenting voice made him hold his tongue and respond more calmly than expected.
“I don’t know what happened; I left town with a full tank. And… I… um… I’ll need some help, yeah.”
“Sorry, son, what was that?”
“I said I need help, if you could… please?!” He replied louder, though he was pretty sure the man heard him.
“Of course I can help, son. Out here, we all pitch in, no matter who you are.” Another jab, and once again something made Brian hold back; he deserved that treatment, the little voice said, and he would take it like a man, like the man he was. Roy smiled again, apparently noticing that the young man was holding back from snapping back.
“Thanks, sir. Now, if you could just follow me to the car and get me some gas…”
“No, son, you’re soaked through. Let RJ and me take care of that; you go to my house and talk to my wife; she’ll get you some dry clothes and a hot meal.”
“I’d rather go to my car…”
“No arguments, kid; do what I said!” Roy replied, his face turning serious.
“I… I… fine!” Brian said, biting back his anger and trudging down the road.
“That one’s a bit rough around the edges.” RJ commented to his dad as he watched Brian walk away.
“Oh, but he’s starting to behave, and there’s nothing wrong with him being a little rough, son, as long as he uses that attitude in the right way…”
“Dad, are you sure? This mumbo jumbo sounds crazy… and the risk we took, messing with that guy’s car. What if he noticed?”
“What are the odds a guy like that knows how to handle a car, Junior? At least for now.”
“Dad, what you’re talking about doing… it’s impossible…”
“Son, you’re gonna have to trust me on this; believe me, it’s already started. Tomorrow at this time, we’ll have the help we need and one heartless drone less in the world.”
“But how? How can you be sure? Have you done this before?” The young man asked.
“No, Junior, I haven’t.” Roy replied, looking quite uncomfortable and avoiding eye contact with his son. “But since you apparently doubt your old man’s word, maybe you should trust your own eyes; take a quick look now, and you’ll see something unique.”
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“What the hell? What is that, Dad?” The boy asked, seeing the golden sparks surrounding the man who walked, seemingly unaware of anything strange.
“That, my boy, is the solution to our problems; now hurry up.”
As father and son climbed into the old pickup, an oblivious Brian, unaware of their plans for him, arrived at the farmhouse door. The moment he raised a hand to knock, the door swung open suddenly, and he found himself facing a beautiful woman with bronzed skin and black hair streaked with gray, whose age he couldn’t quite pin down, though he knew she was Abernathy’s wife. The woman looked at him with a warm face that, for some unknown reason, sent a shiver down his spine.
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“Well, well, what do we have here? A lost kitten? How can I help you, sugar?”
“Um… I’m sorry, ma’am. I… Mr. Abernathy told me to come here and… hum… change clothes while he looks at my car.”
“You’re soaked, poor thing! Come on in, come on in. I’ll ask Debra to get you some of RJ’s clothes. Be a good boy and wait right here; I don’t want my carpet all wet!” The woman said in a whirlwind, pulling him inside the house and leaving him standing at the threshold. Brian, for his part, had to control himself not to run back out into the rain, as something urged him to get out of that place as fast as possible. Holding himself back, he waited until the woman returned with a young girl about his age, just as pretty as the mother, in a floral dress.
“Debra will take you to RJ’s room; you can dry off and wear some of his clothes until the boys bring your car back. Meanwhile, I’ll whip up some dinner; a big boy like you must eat as much as my husband and son!”
“I… actually…” Brian started, but he gave up announcing his intention to leave as fast as possible upon receiving a look from Mrs. Abernathy that simultaneously showed expectation and reprimand. “Thank you, ma’am.”
“Great, now let’s go, let’s go! You’re soaking my carpet!”
Brian followed Debra up to one of the rooms on the second floor of the house. Upon entering, he was surprised to find it was a double room. Did the Abernathy kids, brother and sister, share the same room?
“I’ve set aside some of RJ’s clothes for you; they might be a bit big, but at least they’re dry.” The girl said, smiling between the two beds in the room. Brian couldn’t help but ask.
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“You sleep here with your brother?”
“God, no, eww! That bed’s for my other brother!”
“I didn’t know that… wait… there’s no record of the Abernathys having another kid in the paperwork given to the bank!”
“Shhh… relax; there’s no need to stress about that, it’s not important. You city folks with your data, your records, your… contracts. Life is so much more than that, you know? So why don’t you chill for a bit, dry off, and head down? Dad’s gonna want to talk to you.” The girl replied and left the room, leaving a very confused Brian behind. He was still pondering the family’s strange behavior as he undressed and wondered what the hell Roy Abernathy would want to talk to him about. He wasn’t fooling himself thinking it could be something good for his job, not after the confrontation they had just had.
After drying off and getting ready to put on RJ's much larger clothes, the little intrusive voice invaded his mind again. Whatever Roy had to say was important, and he should listen and obey, just like he always had. Before his mind could fight back against that, a beam of golden sparks emanated from his body, and both the intrusive voice and the need to resist it vanished from Brian's mind. In fact, all thoughts disappeared. He couldn't tell how long he stood there, just breathing, with his mind blank of thoughts or worries.
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He only returned to reality when someone caught his attention.
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“What are you doing just standing there, brother?” A deep voice asked, startling him awake. Turning quickly, Brian found himself face to face with Abernathy’s son, RJ. He’d only seen him briefly on the road, but now he was just a few inches away. RJ lacked the bulk of his father, but that didn’t mean he was small. On the contrary, he was a strong guy, a year or two older than Brian, with a muscular, hairy chest on display. Looking at that figure, Brian felt a strange sensation wash over him, a kind of bond between him and this stranger; it wasn’t sexual, it was something… brotherly, maybe? He knew he’d felt that before, but couldn’t remember when or with whom. As absurd as it was, it was like this guy in front of him was someone very important.
“Earth to you, bro! Get some clothes on and let’s eat; Dad’s waiting.”
“I… uh… yeah.” Brian replied, hurrying to put on the clothes that were lying next to him.
“You coming?” He asked, wanting to stretch the time spent with the other man, even though he didn’t know why.
“Nah, I already ate; I’m gonna crash here. We’ll talk later and figure out how to fix your car!”
“Car?”
“Dude, you really are in another dimension, eat your food, talk to dad, I’ll be waiting!”
Brian headed downstairs and made his way to the kitchen, not even questioning how he knew which way to go, while trying to pin down that feeling of connection to someone he’d just met. As he reached the kitchen door, he found Roy Abernathy sitting alone at a large dining table piled high with food, looking serious and pensive. Brian instinctively stopped at the door, watching the older man. Strangely, all the animosity he’d felt toward the man had vanished, and revisiting his feelings, even the fear he refused to admit existed was different now; it wasn’t fear of violence, but a hefty dose of respect, with a healthy hint of dread. He didn’t even have time to try to figure out what had changed, as Abernathy spotted him and broke into a smile.
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“Come on in and grab a bite, son, don’t just stand there like a deer in headlights!” The man said, and while part of Brian’s mind told him he should be anger by that comment, a now dominant part made him smile shyly and head over to the table.
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“Excuse me, sir!” He said politely and respectfully.
“Sure thing, son, make yourself at home; things here are simple but done right.”
“Thanks, sir.” Brian replied, serving himself a bit of everything on the table, ending up with a plate piled high, which seemed to please his host.
“That’s a plate fit for a real man!”
“Sorry, Mr. Abernathy; it all looks so good and…”
“No need to apologize, son; that’s a compliment you’re giving my wife’s cooking. And you can call me Roy. That’s what my friends call me.”
Hearing that sparked something in Brian’s mind, some kind of half-forgotten memory, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t recall it… if he can’t remember it must not be important, right? So, he opted to eat all that delicious food, smiling, again oblivious to the shower of golden sparks surrounding him. But Roy Abernathy couldn’t help but notice, making his smile grow even wider.
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Brian devoured the food like he hadn’t eaten in days, time slipping by without him realizing it. He only stopped eating when his belly stretched the elastic of RJ’s shorts, which was no small feat since the man was much stronger than him. Satisfied, he let out a loud burp.
“Burrrpp… sorry, Mr. Abernathy.”
“Once again, that’s a compliment to my wife’s fine cooking, kid; and I already told you, my friends call me Roy.”
“Thanks, Roy… you… you all didn’t have to do this for me, not after… after…”
“After what, son?” Roy asked, with an apparently innocent look.
“After… after…” after what? What did I do to Abernathy? I can’t remember… something about work… my job. “… my job.” Brian mumbled.
“Kid, just ‘cause you’re gonna work for me doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop treating you like a guest.” Roy replied with a smile, sending a shock through Brian’s mind. That information couldn’t be true… or could it? He tried to remember his job, but nothing came to mind; he had gone to college and studied… what? He couldn’t recall. But he knew his job had given him the means to buy the clothes he liked and the car… yeah, his car! There was something about his car.
“And my car…?”
“Oh, right, tomorrow you and RJ can figure out how to fix it. But I gotta tell you, son, there’s only so much an old car can take!”
“Old…? no, no!”
“Oh, I know young folks prefer the term classic, but still… anyway… if I were you, I’d save up for a good reliable pickup, kid! Now head on up; I’m sure you and RJ will want to talk before bed, but tomorrow the day starts bright and early around here.”
“I… I… Roy… there’s something… something…” Brian started as he stood up and headed for the door, unable to finish. He wanted to say there was something weird, something wrong, but he couldn’t.
“Something you wanna tell me, son?”
“Yeah… Mr. Abernathy… Roy…” He struggled to find the right words to express how he felt. “… thanks again!” That was what he finally said, with a fresh wave of golden sparks surrounding him, and any doubt about what he was doing there vanished.
“Thank me with hard work, son; now go to your room.”
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Feeling a bit dazed, Brian climbed the stairs and reached the room he shared with RJ. The other man was lying down, apparently asleep, which left Brian feeling a bit down.
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He couldn't say why, but he felt the urge to talk to RJ; somehow, he felt like the other man was a special friend he hadn't spoken to in a long time, though that didn't make any sense. He hardly knew the guy; they had barely exchanged words since they met that day... or was it the day his father hired Brian? And when was that? Brian sat on the bed, trying to sort out his thoughts and calm the strange feeling that had taken over him since his car broke down on the road. And why was he on the road if he had gone to the Abernathys to work? He couldn't get very far with those thoughts, as apparently, his movements had woken RJ, who quickly sat up in bed.
“Hey, brother, why didn’t you let me know you were in the room?”
“I didn’t want to wake you; didn’t wanna bother you…”
“Man, it ain’t no bother! We gotta talk about your car, figure out what we’re gonna do!”
“Your dad thinks I should sell it and save up for a pickup!”
“Bro, no way! Dad’s a great guy, but for him, if something ain’t useful for work, it ain’t worth a damn. He’s forgotten what it’s like being a guy our age. And selling a 1969 Ford Mustang? The king of American muscle cars? Only if you’re crazy! I figured with a car like that, you’d know how to appreciate a classic!”
“I… uh… I just didn’t wanna offend your dad, with him being my boss and all…”
“Dude, just be straight with him, and he’ll get it… and forget about the boss stuff… you’re sleeping in his son’s room; you can bet he sees you as more than just an employee.”
“Thanks…” Brian replied awkwardly.
“Come on, enough of that; you’re gonna work with me, hell, you’re sharing a room with me, brother! No need for all that formal junk.” RJ said, grinning before giving Brian a scrutinizing look and asking, “Bro, do you lift?”
“Uh, no… I’ve never been much for working out…”
“So how you ended up working on a farm??”
“Uh… I… went to college… I think, and… I don’t remember…”
“Chill out, brother, I’m just teasing you!But seriously, if you wanna work around here, you gotta pack on some serious muscle.” RJ said, casually scratching his powerful pecs and biceps, making Brian, who had never cared about that kind of thing, feel mesmerized.
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“You think… you think I can get as big as you or your dad?” Why was he asking that???
“Ha, dude, nobody’s as big as my dad, and getting to my size is a good journey, but the beauty of the thing is just that, brother; you never settle for the size you are, and I bet with the right training and all the farm work, soon you won’t even recognize yourself.” Hearing that reply filled Brian with a level of contentment he never thought possible.
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But before he could try to understand why, RJ went back to talking about cars, and soon the two were discussing their favorite classic models and what they’d do with Brian’s old Mustang. Their conversation flowed like they’d known each other for years and was only interrupted when a very serious Roy Abernathy opened the bedroom door and told the two to hit the hay already, like a couple of mischievous kids being schooled by their dad. Somehow, that thought was comforting to Brian, who quickly fell asleep after Roy turned off the lights and left the room.
He was in a strange place; it looked like a gym. There was a young, skinny but strong guy, as blonde as he was, staring at him. After a few seconds, he realized he was standing in front of a mirror and smiled.
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As he dreamed of that, Brian smiled in his sleep on the bed in Roy Junior’s room, his shirt pulled off during the night without him realizing, and golden sparks surrounding him as he moved around happily, unaware that someone was watching him.
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“Sleep tight, little brother, ‘cause tomorrow’s when things are really gonna get interesting!”
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elryuse · 2 months ago
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Pt. 4 Friends Or Foe
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BABEL'S CHAINS MASTERLIST : HERE
Y/n's Pov
The Next Morning
The morning sun streamed through my window as I finished wrapping the sandwiches in neat parchment paper. After last night’s dinner, it was clear that Karina and the girls loved my cooking, so I thought I’d surprise them with something simple yet delicious—homemade sandwiches.
The walk to Babel University was quiet, the streets still waking up as I weaved through the morning crowd. As I approached the main courtyard, I spotted Karina, Winter, and Giselle sitting at one of the shaded tables. Karina waved first, her hand cutting through the air, followed by Winter’s lazy wave and Giselle’s small nod.
“Morning,” I greeted as I reached the table, setting my bag down.
“You brought something, didn’t you?” Winter asked, her eyes lighting up as she leaned forward.
I chuckled and pulled out the sandwiches, handing them over. “Just a little something to start the day.
A Culinary Gift
The girls immediately unwrapped their sandwiches, their eyes widening as they took in the neatly layered meat, lettuce, and cheese.
“This looks amazing,” Karina said, taking a small bite. Her expression softened, and she gave me an approving nod.
“Seriously, Y/n, are you trying to spoil us?” Giselle teased, already halfway through her sandwich.
“Maybe,” I said with a grin, enjoying their reactions.
Winter savored hers with a dramatic sigh. “If you keep this up, we might just adopt you.”
“Adopt me?” I laughed. “I think I’m good where I am, thanks.”
As we chatted about our unfinished projects, I couldn’t help but feel a bit more at ease. For once, the tension of being watched by everyone on campus seemed to fade.
A Familiar Presence
Just as I was starting to relax, a pair of hands suddenly covered my eyes from behind.
“Guess who?” came a playful voice, one that sent my heart racing.
I froze, my mind scrambling to identify the voice. It was familiar—too familiar. My pulse quickened as I felt my face heat up.
“Do you miss me?” the voice asked again, teasingly this time.
Before I could respond, the hands pulled away, and I turned to see Yuna standing there with a cheeky grin.
“Yuna?” I stammered, my heart still pounding.
She giggled, clearly amused by my reaction, before pulling up a chair next to me. “You didn’t answer my question. Did you miss me?”
“I, uh…” I hesitated, glancing at Karina, Winter, and Giselle, who were all watching me with varying expressions of curiosity and mild suspicion.
Yuna’s smile grew as she leaned closer. “Don’t be shy, Y/n. I won’t bite.”
Karina raised an eyebrow, her gaze sharp. “Yuna, what are you doing here?”
“What?” Yuna replied, feigning innocence. “Can’t I stop by to say hi to my new friend?”
A Tense Exchange
Karina’s expression didn’t change as she leaned back in her chair. “Friend? You two seem pretty close for people who just met.”
“Let’s just say we had a… memorable first encounter,” Yuna said, smirking as she glanced at me.
Giselle leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. “Memorable, huh? Care to elaborate?”
Yuna shrugged, clearly enjoying the attention. “Let’s just say Y/n here was my knight in shining armor the other night.”
I coughed awkwardly, trying to deflect. “It was nothing, really.”
Winter, who had been quiet up until now, finally spoke. “Sounds like there’s a story here. Care to share, Y/n?”
I opened my mouth to respond, but Yuna beat me to it. “Don’t embarrass him, Winter. He’s already blushing enough as it is.”
A Sudden Departure
The conversation was interrupted by the sound of the campus bell, signaling the start of the next class. Yuna stood up, brushing her hair over her shoulder.
“Anyway, I just wanted to drop by. Don’t work too hard, Y/n,” she said with a wink before walking off, leaving me and the others at the table.
As soon as she was out of earshot, Winter leaned toward me, her eyes narrowing. “Okay, spill. What’s going on between you two?”
“Nothing,” I said quickly. “We just ran into each other at a store. That’s it.”
Karina didn’t look convinced. “She’s awfully friendly for someone you ‘just ran into.’”
I sighed, feeling the weight of their stares. “I promise, there’s nothing going on.”
Giselle smirked, leaning back in her chair. “Sure, sure. We’ll see.”
As we packed up our things and headed to class, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Yuna’s sudden appearance was only the beginning of something much bigger.
The Classroom Gaze
The classroom was quiet, save for the occasional scribble of pens on paper and the monotonous drone of the professor. I tried to focus on my notes, jotting down the key points from the lecture. However, I couldn’t shake the odd sensation of being watched.
I glanced up subtly and, sure enough, Karina’s piercing gaze was fixed on me. She wasn’t even pretending to hide it—her chin rested on her hand, her eyes unwavering. I tried to ignore it, but every time I looked away, I could feel her stare like a tangible weight.
When class finally ended, I packed my things quickly, hoping to avoid any awkward confrontation.
“Y/n,” Karina called softly as I stood up.
I froze, turning to face her. “Yeah?”
Her expression was unreadable, but there was a softness in her tone. “Are you free after class today? I… wanted to ask you something.”
“Uh…” I hesitated, feeling the room’s tension. “Sure. What’s up?”
She smiled faintly. “We’ll talk later. Just don’t disappear, okay?”
I nodded, though her cryptic behavior left me uneasy.
Yuna’s Pov
The Plan Begins
Meanwhile, in another part of Babel University, Yuna was lounging on one of the plush sofas in the student lounge with her fellow members of Itzy—Yeji, Lia, Ryujin, and Chaeryeong.
“So,” Ryujin began, her eyes glinting with curiosity as she leaned forward. “What’s this about a ‘knight in shining armor’? Someone’s been busy, huh?”
Yuna laughed, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s not like that.”
“Uh-huh,” Ryujin said, smirking. “Sure. So, who is he?”
“His name’s Y/n,” Yuna said with a dreamy smile. “He’s... different. Kind, genuine, and—unlike most guys here—not a total jerk.”
Lia raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like you’ve got it bad.”
Yuna sighed, leaning back. “I don’t know what it is about him. He’s just... refreshing. But there’s a problem.”
“What problem?” Chaeryeong asked, her voice soft.
Yuna frowned, a hint of frustration crossing her face. “He’s surrounded by Aespa. Karina, in particular. I don’t stand a chance with them around.”
Ryujin leaned back, a sly grin spreading across her face. “Then you just need to level the playing field.”
Yuna glanced at her. “What do you mean?”
“Simple,” Ryujin said, crossing her arms. “Separate him from them. Make sure he spends more time with you. You’re Yuna from Itzy. Use that.”
Yuna hesitated, but the thought of spending more time with Y/n made her smile. “Maybe you’re right.”
“Of course I’m right,” Ryujin said, smirking. “Now, what’s step one?”
Before Yuna could answer, her gaze drifted toward the cafeteria. At one of the tables sat Wonyoung and her friends, chatting animatedly. The sight of Wonyoung made Yuna pause, a flicker of recognition passing through her.
“What is it?” Yeji asked, noticing Yuna’s distraction.
Yuna didn’t respond immediately, her eyes narrowing as an idea began to form. “Nothing. Just... thinking about my next move.”
Ryujin chuckled, giving her a playful nudge. “Careful, Yuna. You’re starting to sound like me.”
Yuna smirked, her confidence returning. “Maybe that’s not such a bad thing.”
The lines between alliances and rivalries at Babel University were blurring, and Yuna was determined to tip the scales in her favor.
Y/n’s Pov
A Heated Conversation
The air outside the university was crisp and quiet, a stark contrast to the buzzing hallways I had just escaped. Karina had asked me to meet her here, away from the prying eyes and ears of Babel’s students. She stood by the railing near the garden, her arms crossed and her foot tapping the ground in rapid, impatient beats.
I approached her cautiously, unsure of what to expect. “Karina?” I called softly.
She didn’t turn to face me immediately. Instead, she let out a long sigh, her shoulders rising and falling as if she were trying to calm herself. Finally, she looked at me, her expression a mix of frustration and something else I couldn’t quite place.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, genuinely concerned.
Karina tilted her head, her dark eyes locking onto mine. “Do you think Yuna is prettier than me?”
I froze, my brain short-circuiting at her unexpected question. “W-What?”
“You heard me,” she said, her tone sharper this time. “Do you think Yuna is prettier than me?”
“Karina, I don’t—what kind of question is that?” I stammered, completely thrown off.
She took a step closer, her gaze never wavering. “It’s a simple question, Y/n. Yes or no?”
I swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. “I... I think you’re both... uh...”
Karina’s expression darkened, and she let out a bitter laugh. “Unbelievable. You can’t even give me a straight answer.”
“It’s not like that!” I blurted out, desperate to diffuse the situation. “I just don’t think it’s fair to compare—”
“Fair?” she interrupted, her voice rising. “Do you even realize what it’s like to see her hanging around you, acting all cute and innocent? Do you have any idea how it feels to watch her try to steal your attention like that?”
I blinked, completely at a loss. “Karina, no one’s trying to steal anything. We’re just friends—”
“Friends,” she repeated, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Do you even understand how naive you sound?”
I took a step back, my heart racing. “Karina, I don’t know what’s going on, but I don’t want this to turn into something it’s not.”
She stared at me for a long moment, her expression softening just slightly. “I just...” Her voice faltered, and she looked away, her foot kicking at the ground again. “I don’t want to lose you, Y/n. That’s all.”
Her words hit me like a ton of bricks. I didn’t know what to say, so I just stood there, feeling a mix of guilt and confusion.
After a long silence, Karina sighed again, this time quieter. “Never mind,” she muttered, turning away. “Forget I said anything.”
“Karina,” I said, reaching out instinctively. “Wait.”
She paused but didn’t look back.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I said firmly. “You don’t have to worry about that.”
For a moment, she didn’t respond. Then, without another word, she walked away, leaving me standing there alone, wondering how things had gotten so complicated so quickly.
Wonyoung's Pov
A Deal with Doubts
The cafeteria was alive with the hum of conversations and clinking utensils as I sat with Yujin and Gaeul at our usual table. We were flipping through magazines, discussing the latest fashion trends and debating which brands were worth splurging on. Gaeul was raving about a new luxury line, while Yujin argued for classic Chanel pieces.
“You can’t go wrong with timeless designs,” Yujin said, holding up a picture of a sleek black dress. “It’s an investment.”
Gaeul rolled her eyes. “Sometimes it’s okay to be bold. Look at this one—bright, daring, and completely unforgettable.”
I laughed at their banter, sipping on my iced coffee. “You two are hopeless. Why not just buy both?”
Before they could retort, the atmosphere shifted. I noticed a ripple of whispers spreading through the room, followed by the unmistakable sight of Yuna and Ryujin approaching our table. Their confident strides and unwavering gazes were impossible to ignore, and I felt a twinge of unease.
“What do they want?” Yujin muttered, her tone laced with suspicion.
“They’re up to something,” Gaeul added, setting down her phone.
Yuna stopped in front of us, flashing a polite but slightly mischievous smile. “Mind if we join you for a moment?”
Yujin crossed her arms. “Depends on what you want.”
Ryujin smirked, leaning casually against the table. “Relax. We just want to talk.”
“About what?” Gaeul asked, narrowing her eyes.
Yuna’s gaze shifted to me, her smile softening. “It’s about Y/n.”
The mention of his name made my heart skip a beat. I tried to keep my expression neutral, but I could feel Yujin and Gaeul glancing at me.
“What about him?” Yujin asked, her tone protective.
Yuna leaned forward slightly, lowering her voice. “We need your help to... create some space between him and Aespa.”
“What?” I blurted out before I could stop myself.
Ryujin raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by my reaction. “You heard her. Aespa’s been hogging him, and we think it’s time someone else gets a chance to be around him. Don’t you agree, Wonyoung?”
I opened my mouth to respond, but Yuna cut me off.
“Think about it,” she said, her tone persuasive. “If you help us, you can finally get him to apologize properly for what happened. And maybe you’ll get the chance to spend more time with him too.”
Yujin tilted her head, her protective instincts flaring. “And how exactly do you plan to ‘create space’?”
“Rumors,” Yuna said simply. “Aespa’s reputation is spotless, but one little whisper can change that. If people think Y/n’s too close to them, it’ll stir the pot. Enough to keep them at a distance.”
Gaeul frowned. “That sounds... extreme.”
Yuna shrugged. “It’s effective. And besides, don’t you think he owes Wonyoung a proper apology?”
Yujin tapped her fingers against the table, her eyes narrowing. “You’re not wrong. He does owe Wonyoung. But dragging him into drama? That feels unnecessary.”
My heart sank as I listened to their discussion. I didn’t want to be part of this. The idea of hurting Y/n, even indirectly, made my chest tighten.
“I don’t know,” I said hesitantly. “It feels wrong.”
Yuna’s smile faltered for a moment, but she quickly recovered. “I get it. You don’t want to be the bad guy. But think about it, Wonyoung. If you don’t act, Aespa will keep pulling him further away. Do you really want that?”
Her words struck a chord, and I felt a pang of jealousy I couldn’t suppress. The thought of Karina or Winter growing closer to Y/n was unbearable, but I couldn’t bring myself to betray him either.
Yujin placed a hand on my shoulder. “It’s your call, Wonyoung. If this is too much, we’ll back off.”
I looked down at the table, torn between my feelings for Y/n and the pressure to take action. Finally, I nodded reluctantly. “Fine. But just this once.”
Yuna’s smile returned, triumphant. “That’s all I ask.”
As Yuna and Ryujin walked away, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had made a mistake. I wanted to be closer to Y/n, but not like this. And now, with Yuna involved, I couldn’t help but feel like I was playing a dangerous game.
Y/n’s Pov
An Unexpected Proposal
The sun was beginning to set as I made my way to the nearby convenience store, the fading light casting a warm glow over the city streets. It had been a long day, and all I wanted was to grab a drink and some snacks before heading home. The familiar chime of the store’s automatic door greeted me as I stepped inside.
I wandered through the aisles, picking up a can of iced coffee and a bag of chips. As I approached the counter, a voice I hadn’t expected to hear called out to me.
“Y/n!”
Turning around, I saw Yuna waving at me enthusiastically, her bright smile lighting up the small store. She was dressed casually, but her presence was anything but. She seemed to command attention effortlessly, and it made me feel a little uneasy.
“Hey,” I said, trying to sound neutral.
She didn’t wait for an invitation. Scooting closer, she grabbed a bottle of water from the shelf and stood next to me at the counter. “Fancy meeting you here,” she said with a playful grin.
“Yeah, small world,” I replied awkwardly, already sensing that this wasn’t going to be a quick interaction.
As I paid for my items, Yuna followed me out of the store, her footsteps light but deliberate. “So,” she began, “you’re not going to just walk away without saying more than two words to me, are you?”
I sighed internally. It wasn’t that I disliked Yuna, but after everything that had happened today, I wasn’t in the mood for small talk. Still, I couldn’t exactly ignore her. “What do you want to talk about?” I asked, keeping my tone polite.
Her eyes sparkled mischievously. “Oh, I don’t know. How about... everything? Tell me about your day.”
And so, against my better judgment, we ended up walking together, talking about mundane things like hobbies, favorite foods, and random childhood memories. Despite my initial reluctance, I found myself relaxing a little. Yuna had a way of making conversation flow effortlessly, though I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something calculating behind her warm demeanor.
As we walked past a quiet park, she suddenly stopped and turned to face me, her expression shifting. Her playful grin softened into something more serious, yet her eyes still held that predatory glint.
“Y/n,” she said, her voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “Do you want to be my boyfriend?”
The question hit me like a bolt of lightning. “W-What?” I stammered, my face heating up.
She gripped my arm tightly, her touch firm but not uncomfortable. “You heard me,” she said, her tone light but with an undercurrent of confidence. “Don’t act so surprised. I mean, we get along, don’t we? And you’re... cute.”
I froze, my brain scrambling to process her words. “I... I don’t think that’s—”
“Relax,” she interrupted, her teasing smile returning. “I’m just messing with you. Unless...” She trailed off, her eyes locking onto mine.
I swallowed hard, unsure of how to respond. Was she serious? Was this another one of her games?
Before I could say anything, she released my arm and stepped back, laughing. “You’re too easy to mess with,” she said, her voice light and carefree. “But seriously, think about it. I wouldn’t be a bad girlfriend, you know.”
I managed a weak chuckle, trying to play it off. “I’ll... keep that in mind.”
As we parted ways, her words lingered in my mind. There was something about Yuna that made it hard to tell when she was joking and when she wasn’t. And for the first time, I wondered if I was getting pulled into something far more complicated than I realized.
A Shattered Bond
The soft hum of the fridge filled the silent kitchen as I unpacked the snacks and drinks I’d bought earlier. My mind was still spinning from Yuna’s teasing question, but I tried to push it aside. It was late, and all I wanted was to unwind.
Just as I set my phone on the counter, it buzzed relentlessly. Notification after notification flooded the screen, all from Karina. A growing sense of dread clawed at me as I unlocked it.
Karina: "Y/n, check the university page. Now."
Karina: "We're screwed."
Karina: "CALL ME."
Fumbling with my phone, I opened the Babel University social media page. My heart dropped.
There it was. A post with my name, along with photos of me with Karina, Winter, Giselle, and Ningning. The captions were cruel:
"Who's this nobody hanging with Aespa?"
"Must be some charity case Karina’s picked up."
"What a joke. He doesn’t belong here."
The comments were even worse.
"Typical. Trying to climb the social ladder."
"Bet he’s after their money."
"Karina needs to drop him ASAP. He’s bad for her image."
The phone buzzed again. This time, it was Karina calling. Hesitating for a moment, I answered. “Karina—”
“Y/n, we need to talk,” she cut me off, her voice sharp and urgent. “Have you seen the post?”
“Yeah,” I muttered, my throat dry.
“It’s a disaster,” she continued, not giving me a chance to process. “Everyone’s blowing it out of proportion. They’re already making up rumors about you and us.”
“But—”
“We need to lay low,” she interrupted again, her tone firm. “No more meeting up. At least not until this blows over.”
Her words hit like a punch to the gut. “Karina, I thought we—”
“Y/n,” she said, her voice softening for a moment, but it didn’t last. “This isn’t about us. It’s about the bigger picture. The media, the school, my family... They can’t see me involved in something like this. You understand, right?”
I didn’t. Not really. My grip on the phone tightened. “So that’s it? We just... stop being friends?”
“It’s not like that,” she said, but her voice wavered. “It’s just temporary. We’ll figure it out later.”
I opened my mouth to argue, to ask her why she even bothered with me in the first place, but the line went dead.
The silence in my apartment felt heavier than ever. I stared at the phone, hoping she’d call back, send a message, something. But nothing came.
Outside, the sky opened up, and rain began to pour. I stood by the window, watching as droplets raced down the glass. The world outside seemed so cold and distant, just like Karina had sounded on the phone.
I thought I’d finally found something real. A connection. Friendship. Maybe more. But in the end, I was just another liability to them, someone they could discard when things got tough.
The rain pounded harder, matching the ache in my chest. I slid down to the floor, letting the cold seep into my skin. Whatever warmth I’d felt from their company was gone now, replaced by an emptiness I couldn’t shake.
For the first time since I arrived at Babel, I felt completely alone.
To Be Continued
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chugging-antiseptic-dye · 3 months ago
Text
•°. *࿐ jeonghan
◦ words: theory, monster, and sofa (>700 words)
.・゜゜・・゜゜・..・゜゜・・゜゜・..・゜゜・・゜゜・..・゜゜
To put your theory to the test, after breakfast, instead of lazing on the couch, you settle down on the floor in an inconspicuous corner with a book in your hand.
"Wouldn't the couch be more comfortable?" Jeonghan drawled lazily.
"Hmm, it would. But it is too comfortable for me to concentrate, you know? And I really want to get into this today." You replied, making sure to loosen up your body posture and look as relaxed as possible.
If you didn't know what to look out for, you would not have noticed that slowly, over the course of an hour, Jeonghan went from sprawling over the sofa to laying down on the carpet to rolling over beside you to having his head in your lap. All the while pretending that it's a coincidence of course. But more evidence is necessary before you can confront him. Since Jeonghan, himself, is the final boss, one tiny mistake would bring this whole operation to its knees.
Making sure to 'absently' pat his hair for some time, you gently put down his head and stand up to place the book back. All the while you could feel Jeonghan’s eyes burning a hole in the back of your head. But when you turned around to check, all you could see was him still playing solitaire on his phone.
With a hum, you left in the direction of the kitchen. As you were opening the fridge, you heard Jeonghan ask, "Hungry already? Didn’t we just eat breakfast?"
"I know but I am feeling a bit peckish. A little snack won't hurt." You answer breezily.
Grabbing a cold sandwich from the premade pile you prepared just for this, you didn't go back to the living room but rather took a turn into the bedroom. Legs swinging off the bed and your laptop on your lap, you actually check your work emails as you munch on the delicious pickle and ham sandwich.
Just as you almost forgot exactly why you were working on the weekend, the door creaked open and Jeonghan slithered in. Forcing yourself not to look, you feel him sliding into the covers behind you. A second later, hands encircled your waist and pulled you down, making you scramble to hold on to your slipping laptop.
“What do you want?” You grumble as you wiggle to get out of Jeonghan’s arms. 
"I thought I might take a nap." The nonchalance was oozing out of him as he replied but his grip was like steel.
Twisting around to press a soft kiss on Jeonghan’s cheek, you murmur, "Alright, angel. I have some work I need to finish and I know you are a light sleeper. I will be in the kitchen, okay? You have a nice nap.”
Arms tightened around you as you tried to leave again. “Is work that important? I thought we could take a nap together." With a hint of annoyance in his voice, Jeonghan said in a deliberately light voice.
You decided to come clean since your boyfriend was in grave danger of being a sulky mess all day if you didn’t. Setting aside the laptop, you put your hands around his neck to pepper his face with kisses.
“Actually, I don’t have anything to do. I was just trying to check one thing.” You reply teasingly.
“And what is that, baby?”
Tapping your finger on your chin, you adopt a very fake thinking pose. 
“Oh, it’s nothing important. I only wanted to know why my loving boyfriend, who teased me throughout the whole tour for being clingy, is imitating an octopus now.” Raising an eyebrow, you continue provocatively, “Who is the clingy one now?”
“You did all this just to brag?” Jeonghan deadpanned. He received only giggles in reply. But eventually, you admit, “I never have a chance to one-up you. I didn’t want to let the opportunity pass by.”
Shaking his head in defeat, Jeonghan muttered, “It’s my fault. I have created a monster.”
“Who you love very much.”
“Who I love the most.”
.・゜゜・・゜゜・..・゜゜・・゜゜・..・゜゜・・゜゜・..・゜゜
if anyone wants me to write about a specific member, please send me an ask with the member name + three words from this word generator)
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