#my last drawing of her was 7 years ago | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

solarhysm · 4 months ago

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DUST OF US - 06

> synopsis: 7 years ago Y/N broke Jungkook’s heart when she decided to end their relationship without an explanation. When they meet again at a friend's wedding, after almost a decade, Jungkook needs answers to move on.

> pairing: Jungkook x reader

> genre: romance, ex to lovers au

> warnings: explicit languages, violence, smut, cheating, nsfw, angst, +18 minors dni !!

> word count: 4.6k

*french writer, i apologize in advance for my awful english!

If this is a dream, Jungkook doesn’t want to wake up. His eyes never leave your face as you tell him a story about you and your friends. After that kiss, you both decided to take a walk along the shore. Jungkook knows you’ve always liked the feeling of sand under your feet, even in the cold. He carries your boots, happy to do so, while you walk beside him, occasionally digging your toes into the sand.

He thought you would reject him when he kissed you out of nowhere. But you didn’t. Now, all he wants is to kiss you again. He’s dying to. But he doesn’t want to push his luck. If you want to kiss him, you will. He hopes you will. His eyes drop to your hand, brushing against his with every step. His fingers twitch. Not yet. Play it cool.

As if reading his mind, you hand him the bottle of soju you’ve been sharing, giving him something to do with his hands. He takes a sip and nods, silently thanking you.

“And Hwan ended up covered in Hyesun’s last meal,” you laugh, but he hasn’t been paying attention to the story. Jungkook is just smiling at the sound of your laughter. “But she’s a good friend. Even after Hyesun threw up on her, she kept taking care of her.”

“You’re pretty,” Jungkook whispers, and you freeze, eyes widening.

“I—You can’t say stuff like that out of nowhere,” you mumble, looking away to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks.

Jungkook has always said what’s on his mind, whether people liked it or not. And you know that. Once you’re far enough from the nightclubs and prying eyes, the two of you sit on the sand, staring at the shore.

“Alright,” you sigh, pulling a plastic bag between you. “We’ve gotta finish all of this before the sun rises.” You challenge him, and he smirks.

“Easy.”

A soft smile stretches across his lips as he watches you take out two beers and another bottle of soju. You clink your drinks together and take a sip.

“I’m surprised you didn’t make friends in Japan,” you say, breaking the silence.

“I did, actually,” Jungkook replies, burying the bottom of his beer bottle in the sand. He pulls his legs against his chest and takes a deep breath. “Kentaro is visiting me next month. If you behave, I’ll introduce him to you.”

You roll your eyes playfully, licking your lips. His big brown eyes follow the way your tongue traces your lips before he looks away. He knows you want to ask something, and he tilts his head, encouraging you.

“Stop that,” you groan, and he chuckles.

“You want to ask me about girls?”

“I never said that,” you retort, hiding behind your beer.

“You don’t need to. It’s written all over your face,” Jungkook laughs, stretching out. “What about you?”

He likes that he can still read you so easily.

“You didn’t answer,” you say, tilting your head in his direction.

“Hm... I had my fair share of girls, to be honest. But not in the first couple of years.”

“Really?”

“Hm.” He hums again. “Wait, are we talking about serious relationship?”

“All type.” You reply, leaning on your elbows.

“I had… two serious relationships. And a bunch of flings. Mostly flings actually. The heart wasn’t there for more.”

“Two?” You ask like it’s all you keep in mind.

“Yeah. You and a girl named Hina,” Jungkook nods, watching as you draw shapes in the sand. “And you?”

“No one since you. I mean, I had a few flings. And some one-night stands,” you say, and he arches a brow, surprised and amused.

“Look at that. Didn’t you become a bold one?” He jokes. “What a shame, a pretty girl like you, still single.”

“Shut up,” you chuckle, nudging his shoulder. “Maybe that’ll change. I’m sort of in a situationship right now. He wants more.”

“And you?”

“I don’t know. He’s nice.” You shrug, and Jungkook frowns.

“Nabi, don’t force yourself. I mean... who am I to give advice, right?” He laughs awkwardly before turning to look at you. “But I want you to be happy. And if you’re not sure that guy can give you what you want, don’t date him.”

“If I’m being honest...” You pause, and Jungkook gives you his full attention, sitting up straighter. “I’m scared to end up alone. I’m too... complicated. Most of the guys I had after you hated my attitude. But Baekhyun? He just embraces it. He supports me, accepts that I’m not ready to date, and waits for me.”

“That’s not enough. You shouldn’t accept the bare minimum,” Jungkook says, and you shake your head. “You deserve someone who’ll worship you.”

“Easy for you to say. Girls have been chasing you since we were teens.”

“Not the one I want,” he whispers, looking down at his beer as your eyes fall on his side profile. “you’re hard to live with, you’re stubborn with a big mouth and a taste for fights, I won’t deny that.” Jungkook teases and you slap his shoulder "But I also know that once you love, you give everything. If a man can’t get past your tough shell, he doesn’t deserve your love."

"Since when did you become a psychologist?"

"Tonight," he jokes. "Give me one more hour and a few beers, and I’ll be able to read your palm." He grins as you smile. "But I’m serious. Don’t settle for Baekhyun if you think he’s just convenient or your last option. Agreeing with everything you say? That’s not love."

You roll your eyes, making him smile wider.

"Then find me a guy who can handle me," you challenge playfully. Jungkook smirks, gesturing to himself. You laugh, shaking your head. "You should hate me."

"I don’t."

"I said you should." You lift a finger in the air, and he chuckles.

"Who’s Baekhyun, anyway?" Jungkook asks teasingly, his shoulder bumping into yours.

"You’ve met him," you muse, tilting your head to meet his gaze. "My assistant. The other tattoo artist."

"What?" Jungkook gasps playfully. "That kid? How old is he, eighteen?"

"Stop!" You laugh, punching his arm. "He’s twenty-three."

"I always knew you liked them young. I mean, I’m younger—"

"I’m older by a few weeks!"

"Cougar," Jungkook teases, and you roll your eyes. He won’t lie—he’s seen Baekhyun, and something about him seemed off. Or maybe it’s just jealousy because that kid has you and he doesn’t. "Do you change his diapers, too?"

"I’m done with this conversation," you huff, turning your head away while Jungkook bursts into laughter.

"Come on, Nabi, I’m just joking."

And yet, Jungkook is wondering if that Baekhyun knows you as much as he did once upon a time. Does he know that you hate to sleep on the right side of the bed? Or how you have a hard time focusing if there’s too much people around you, how you hate wearing nails polish. Does he know how to make those pretty sounds come out of your mouth when you’re in bed? And mostly, does he know how you love and the look you used to give him? Do you give the same look to that kid?

"Do you remember the last time we were at a beach in Busan?" you ask suddenly.

"Before we left for Seoul," Jungkook says softly, his eyes falling to his hands around his beer.

"We talked about the future," you add, a small smile tugging at your lips.

"I remember." Jungkook nods, his gaze following yours to the shore. "A big house, two kids, a cat, and a dog."

"Hm." You smile, pressing your lips together. His eyes drift back to your face. "Where would we be if… we had stayed together?"

"Married, for sure," Jungkook replies, finishing his beer. "Maybe you’d be pregnant with our first baby."

The thought makes you smile, and Jungkook’s lips curl into a soft smile too. He’s imagined it so many times—how beautiful you’d look with a round belly, glowing with happiness.

"Or maybe we’d be right where we are now," you say, taking a sip of your drink. "Maybe we were meant to be apart."

"I don’t believe that," Jungkook says, almost too quickly. "Our story wasn’t over."

"What makes you so sure?" you ask, arching a brow and Jungkook clenches his jaw, turning his attention to you.

"I didn’t fight for us because you disappeared that day. But I wanted to," he admits, and you chuckle bitterly.

"That’s why I disappeared." You shrug like it’s nothing. "I knew if I saw you again, you’d try to fix things, and I’d give in."

"That’s why you just… left our apartment and changed your number?" he frowns, and you nod, biting the inside of your cheek. He hates how casually you say it, like it didn’t tear him apart.

He hated that place without you in it. He hated that your left side of the bed still smelled like you even after he changed the sheets, how he could still hear you humming in the kitchen like you were cooking for both or how the couch felt cold without you cuddling against him during your movie nights.

"Do you even know… how it felt to come home and find our place half-empty?” He starts before hardly swallowing. “How I had to sleep in a bed that still smelled like you for weeks before I gave the keys back to the landlord? Fuck, Nabi�� Do you have any idea how hard it was to live without you when I was so used to having you around all the time?" Jungkook shakes his head, hiding his face in his hands. "I thought it was the end of the world."

His admission makes you blink a few times as you look down, and Jungkook suddenly feels guilty when he sees you wiping your cheek.

“I’m sorry.” You say with a little voice. “I’m sorry…I – I thought you’d be better off without me."

“Says who?” He frowns, upset, shaking his head. “I was better with you.”

"I didn’t want to leave you," you admit before your emotions overwhelm you, and tears spill from your eyes, making Jungkook freeze. What is he supposed to do now? He didn’t mean to make you cry. He just wanted to have a good evening with you, but now you’re sobbing. What an idiot. "I never wanted to leave you."

"Y/N…"

“I –“ You swallow a sob. “I did it for you.” You shake your head and he frowns a little while you wipe your cheeks and take a deep breath.

"How… breaking up with me…?" Jungkook whispers, unable to finish his sentence.

He hates seeing you cry, but he knows that if he tries to comfort you, you would just push him away.

“I…I tried to help you.” You pinch your lips together. “That university in Tokyo accepted you. You were going to waste that opportunity just to stay with me."

Jungkook’s frown deepens. He never told you he was going to turn down the offer in Tokyo. And like you read his mind you let out a watery chuckle.

“I heard your conversation with Jimin.” you explain, and Jungkook freezes, a wave of anger rising inside him. “I couldn’t let you refuse that to work as a simple cashier, Kook. I couldn’t let you waste your life for me.”

Jungkook lets out a sour chuckle before getting up, his fists clenched at his sides. All this time, he thought that he did something wrong. All this time he thought that you left him because he said something that hurt you enough to breaking up with him.

“And who are you to decide for me?” He almost spits as you stay sitting on the sand, looking at him. “We were a team, remember? We were supposed to talk about it. Make it work!”

“Jungkook.” You say softly, getting on your knees but he takes a step back.

"All this time…" he mutters, shaking his head as a sob escapes. "Fuck... All this time, I thought it was my fault."

"I’m sorry."

"Sorry won’t fix seven wasted years!" he barks, and you struggle to get up, both of you drunk.

"Kook…"

"No." He shakes his head, wiping his face. "I fucking loved you with everything I had. I wanted to spend my life with you, build a future with you. If you had just talked to me, we could’ve made it work! You were the only one I ever listened to."

“Jungkook.” You repeat as you try to reach his hand but he takes another step back. “How was that supposed to work?” You frown and he rolls his eyes, looking away. “You were about to live new experiences. I would’ve been the girlfriend stuck in your hometown. How long would it have taken before you left me?"

"Don’t twist this into being my fault, Y/N," he warns, jaw clenched. "The distance, the new experiences—that’s bullshit, and you know it."

“I know that you needed your freedom.” You bite back and his teeth close on his tongue to not say something hurtful. “That’s why I didn’t want to reconnect with you. I knew how all of this would end.” You mumble, gathering your stuff and he can clearly see how hurt you are.

“I needed you.” He says more softly, but you don’t listen, tying your hair into a ponytail before catching your witch hat. “Nabi.” He stops you, standing right behind you.

"I get it, Jungkook. I do," you say without looking at him, trying to hold back tears, but he can hear the quiver in your voice. You're close to breaking.

“Nabi.” He repeats as you stand up, your hands full of your things.

"I never asked you to come back into my life," you snap, finally turning to face him, shaking your head. "I never asked you to kiss me earlier. I think it’s time to say goodbye for good."

"No." Jungkook's voice is firm as his fingers close around your arm. Even when you try to pull away, his grip tightens. “I won’t let that happen.”

You let out a dry chuckle, turning to face him, both of you frowning.

"You must be pretty stupid to still want me," you say, trying to swat his hand away, but he pulls you closer instead.

"I know what you’re doing. You’re being mean to protect yourself. It won’t work. We’re going to talk." His voice rises a little. "You always run when things get complicated. Not this time."

"Let me go, Jungkook."

"Not before we figure this out."

"There’s nothing to figure out!" you bark, but he only pulls you closer, his hand firm on your arm.

"Talk to me, Y/N," he says, his voice louder than yours now.

"I did! And you got mad at me!" You groan, feeling your frustration grow. He takes a deep breath, softening his features.

"It’s not too late."

"What?!"

"Us. It’s not too late," Jungkook whispers, and you stare at him, blinking in disbelief. "Yes, I’m upset with you. But that’s because I know... I know we could have made this work."

"How?" you ask, your tone softer now, no longer fighting him off.

"I could have… taken the ferry to see you during my holidays. You could’ve visited me. There’s always a solution, Nabi." He tilts his head, trying to meet your gaze.

"You were free," you reply, and he shakes his head.

"I didn’t want that," Jungkook chuckles sadly, finally letting go of your arm. "If you really want to leave, then go. I won’t stop you anymore, Nabi."

He looks at you as none of you break the eye contact. Will you leave? He doesn’t want to force you to anything. But you don’t move. And he hopes that you’re not playing him.

"Fuck," he laughs humorlessly, running a hand through his hair. "You’re the only woman who can shatter me, and I’ll still come running after you."

"I thought I was helping you," you murmur, biting your tongue, looking down at your feet. "I didn’t want to leave. I..." Your voice breaks, and you begin to sob. "I didn’t want to hurt you."

Jungkook stays silent, his fists clenching at his sides to stop himself from pulling you into his arms. God, he wants to. He needs to comfort you, but he knows you’ll push him away.

"I put my own feelings aside to let you live your dream," you sniff, hiding your face in your hands. Jungkook’s vision blurs as his eyes fill with unshed tears.

"I was going to ask you to marry me," Jungkook whispers, followed by an awkward chuckle. When you lift your tear-filled eyes to meet his, he shrugs. "The day you left me... I was going to ask you to be my wife."

And it’s too much to bear. You break in tears as he looks away, wiping his cheek. He hates seeing you cry. He hates being unable to comfort you like he used to.

“I didn’t plan to see you again when I came back. I was scared to find out you were happily married to someone who wasn’t me.” He continues, eyes fixed on an empty soju bottle half-buried in the sand. “But I saw you at Hyesun’s wedding and… fuck, you were so pretty.”

“Stop.” You shake your head, taking a step back because it’s probably too much to hear but he takes a deep breath and close the distance.

"I knew I had to try, Nabi," he says, cupping your face in his hands. "Because there’s no one else for me but you."

"Jungkook," you protest weakly, trying to push him away half-heartedly.

"Stop fighting it," he whispers, pressing his forehead to yours. "Tell me you want this too."

"I…” You start but Jungkook muffles your next words with a kiss.

He isn’t trying to force you, but when you kiss him back, he pulls you closer. The kiss tastes of salt, from your tears and his. Jungkook has kissed many girls after you, but none of them ever made him feel like this. He softly nips at your bottom lip, creating a gap to slide his tongue into your mouth, meeting yours. It’s a passionate kiss, desperate. He wants you to feel how much he needs you. When you relax into him, your fingers threading through his hair and pulling him closer, he smiles against your mouth. But when the need for air becomes overwhelming, he reluctantly pulls back, his nose nuzzling against yours.

"Stay with me tonight. Don’t go home," he murmurs, gently wiping the remnants of your tears from your cheeks.

When you nod, his smile widens, and he pulls you into a tight hug, his nose buried in your hair. He missed your warmth. He missed how right it felt to have you in his arms. He doesn’t know how long you stayed like that, but when the cold started to bite at your skin, he pulled back. Grabbing both of your things, he offered his hand to you, which you shyly took. He couldn’t hide his excitement at the thought of keeping you with him tonight.

"You’re not walking straight," you chuckle as you make your way to his hotel.

"I’m drunk, Nabi. Sue me," he jokes, his fingers intertwined with yours as he playfully bumps his shoulder against yours.

Jungkook didn’t rush you once you were in his room. He handed you a fresh pair of joggers and one of his shirts while he waited, sneaking glances at the bathroom door. He even turned off his phone to make sure nothing interrupted your time together. When you came out of the bathroom, he smirked. He had gotten bigger since the last time you borrowed his clothes, and now you looked like a kid in oversized clothing. He found it adorable.

“What?” you ask looking down at your outfit, straightening your shirt –well, his.

"Nothing," he shrugs, still smirking.

Your nose is still slightly rosy from crying earlier, but somehow, it adds to your charm, Jungkook thinks. He gets up and grabs his clothes from the sofa, heading to the bathroom.

“Make yourself comfortable,” he says softly as he walks past you.

Jungkook needs to calm down. He closes the bathroom door and takes a deep breath before jumping in place with excitement. He takes off his shirt and turns to the mirror, grinning at his reflection.

Alright. Breathe. Play it cool. She’s the same, Jungkook.

He pinches his lips together to stop himself from smiling too widely. He feels like he’s seventeen again, on his first date with you. He never thought you’d let him spend more time with you, let alone kiss you like that. He takes another deep breath and looks down at his pants.

“Don’t embarrass me,” he murmurs to himself before turning on the water, excited to join you again, to hold you in his arms.

When he steps out of the bathroom, his damp hair falling over his forehead and neck, he finds you sitting on the edge of the bed, scrolling on your phone.

“Are you hungry? We can order something to eat,” Jungkook suggests, closing the distance between you.

“No,” you say, locking your phone and tossing it on the bed. “But if you are, you can—”

“I’m not hungry,” Jungkook cuts in, putting his hands on his hips.

Both of you stare at each other in silence. It’s awkward, and neither of you knows what to say. Jungkook clears his throat nervously, and you giggle when he hums a tune, making him frown slightly and turn to you. Then, out of nowhere, you burst into laughter, falling back onto the bed, your hands on your stomach.

“What’s so funny, huh?” He smiles, amused, as you cover your mouth with your hand, shaking your head.

“Sorry,” you giggle, trying to calm yourself. “It’s just weird. What are we, sixteen? Why are you so nervous?”

Your laughter makes his smile grow as he cages you with his arms, placing both hands on either side of your body.

“You’re mocking me, seriously, Nabi?” he teases with a grin as you sit up, shaking your head.

“Sorry, sorry,” you say, pressing your lips together to stop smiling, then lift your eyes to meet his.

Jungkook’s eyes widen when your puppy-like gaze locks with his. He swallows, leaning closer, dying to kiss you, but he doesn’t want to push it. You smile at his nervousness, and he knows you can read his thoughts—just like you always did. For the first time, you close the distance and press your lips to his.

The only contact is your mouths. His fists grip the sheets on either side of you, trying to resist the urge to touch you more. But your hands trail up his arms to cup his face, pulling him closer. His resolve crumbles the moment your fingers bury themselves in his hair, pulling him down onto the bed with you. He hovers over you, careful not to crush you, one leg between yours as his hands trace the curves of your waist, still over his shirt.

“I’m not made of dust, I won’t crumble and disappear if you touch me.” You laugh against his mouth and he hums shyly.

“I’m not scared of that,” he whispers, trailing kisses along your jaw, his fingers squeezing your hips. “I just... don’t want to get too comfortable and wake up.”

“I’m real,” you reassure him, tilting your head to give him more access to your neck, where he continues to kiss and nip at your skin.

But something feels wrong to him—the way you kiss him hungrily while he kisses you back, passionate yet hesitant. Then it hits him.

“Nabi,” Jungkook murmurs as you continue to kiss his neck and shoulder, your fingers guiding his hand deeper into your joggers. “Y/N.”

“What?” you ask breathlessly, licking your lips as he straightens up, pulling his hand away from your pants.

“I don’t want to have sex with you like a cheap one-night stand,” Jungkook replies, sitting back on his knees and running a hand through his hair.

“What are you talking about?” you frown, leaning on your elbows. “You... don’t want me?”

“Of course I do,” he says, shaking his head. “But you’re acting like I’m just some random guy from a bar.”

You frown, sitting up. He’s afraid he said something wrong.

“That’s not true.”

“It is,” Jungkook sighs. “Fuck... Do you really want me, or are you just horny and I’m the only guy around?”

“Jungkook.” You say, your eyes soften as you cup his face, seeing the hurt on his face. “You’ll never be just convenient for me.”

He takes a deep breath, his tongue poking at his cheek. He wants to believe you. And fuck, if you told him the sky was pink, he’d believe you.

“We can just cuddle and talk if you want,” you suggest, and Jungkook smiles, nodding.

He knew about all the men in your life before you ever told him—Jimin had filled him in. Everyone knows you use physical intimacy to fill the void, and part of him feels responsible. If he had fought harder for you, maybe you wouldn’t have that endless list of guys.

“You’re not them,” you whisper as he pulls you close in bed, your head resting on his arm.

“I know. I was the first,” he teases with a smirk, and you roll your eyes, playfully slapping his chest. He laughs softly, taking your hand and holding it over his heart, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand. “Go on a date with me,” Jungkook says, your noses brushing against each other. “A real one. Not this ‘friendly date’ bullshit.”

“You’re such a hopeless romantic,” you chuckle as he smiles and kisses the tip of your nose.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Jungkook grins, his fingers softly rubbing the back of your hand. “We’ll grab some food and go to the beach tomorrow.”

“We came to see our families,” you remind him with a raised brow.

“I’ll see them after the date.”

Jungkook doesn’t know how long the two of you stay in bed, talking about everything. The sun starts to rise as you fall asleep, your face resting on his shoulder while he plays with your hair. He didn’t like them short at first, but he’s gotten used to it and actually thinks that it suits you now. But for him, you look pretty anyways. He keeps you close against his body, his arms locked around you to be sure that you won’t slip. Brushing his nose against your hair, he takes the time to enjoy your scent. Your perfume is slightly different from the fruity one you had when you two were together. This one is more feminine, more mature. And he likes it.

And when he wakes up later, he still finds you nestled against him, your back pressed against his chest. For a good minute, he has to pinch himself, convinced this is a dream. It feels too right to be real, having you here with him.

Jungkook carefully disentangles himself from you and sits up. His mouth is dry, and he needs to check his phone. After taking his time in the bathroom, he smiles when he sees you still sleeping, cuddling one of the pillows. He sits on the edge of the bed and turns on his phone, immediately bombarded by notifications.

Ignoring most of them, he opens his conversation with Jimin and sends him a message. Jimin knew about his plan all along and asked him to keep him updated. Jungkook types out everything he remembers from the night before—how you fell asleep in his arms, how happy he is. He smiles like a teenager as he types, and Jimin replies almost instantly, saying he’s happy for him. But then the next message makes Jungkook’s smile drop.

FROM: Jiminie

Did you tell her about Hina?

Jungkook sighs, rubbing his face. His fingers hover over the keyboard before he finally types a reply. He had been so focused on you that he forgot about her.

TO: Jiminie

It’s too soon. I just got her back. Let me enjoy this.

Jimin’s answer comes almost immediately and Jungkook groans, frustrated because he knows that his friend is right. His eyes fall back on your sleeping form. You’re going to hate him. He needs to figure out how to handle this little – big- problem. Jungkook knows where his heart is, and it’s right here, with the woman peacefully sleeping in his bed.

FROM: Jiminie

I understand. But you need to tell her before she hears it from someone else. Nabi has the right to know about your fiancée.

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WATTPAD.

KO-FI. (every chapters/drabbles are posted as soon as i'm done writing them.)

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moonstruckmoony · 11 months ago

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A Ravenclaw Lunch 🦅

Drew some of my favorite Ravenclaws on this platform. Although one isn't necessarily a Ravenclaw. (@traceyc-uk I genuinely thought he was a Ravenclaw when I first saw him lol but I saw your comment reply somewhere that your first playthrough was Ravenclaw so I think this counts… a bit? 😂)

This post is basically a peace offering (and a love letter) bcs I want to make more Ravenclaw friends 👀👉🏻👈🏻 definitely not because I'm obsessed with you guys' MCs

I swear it was supposed to be a silly doodle at first but idk how or when down the line but somehow it turned into this mega drawing. Took me weeks to finish it. I’m not happy with a few technical things especially lights and shadows… and some other things as well but I leave it be bcs I’m aware that I’m still learning 🥲 The rest I’m pretty satisfied with, I’m just happy that I got to finally finish this.

Front row (left to right):

Violet and Pearl Castellar by @vienguinn Omg HAPPY BELATED BELATED BIRTHDAY TO THESE BABIES! These 2 are some of my favorites and everytime you post I always open my phone real quick, your short comics are my comfort 🩵

Clora Clemons by @choccy-milky I cannot not draw Clora?!!?! I consider you a legend in this fandom tbh 👑 also I want to thank you bcs your fic and illustrations literally helped me go through my stressful period when I was at my lowest bcs of my new demanding job that I started half a year ago. I look forward to your post everytime and your Clora and Seb always heals my soul 😭🩵💚

Sally Salamander by @siboom777 Sally is just so wacky and unapologetically herself and I love her for it 🩵 Does she take commissions for toys tho?

Marvin Jerry by @runicxraven MY LOVELY SILLY ADORABLE LITTLE NERD 💗💗💗💗 I need more Marvin in my life honestly.

@najiang ‘s MC - I’m so so sorry I didn’t draw her full face😭, I tried my best to show her face as much as I can while still looking like she’s taking those sausages haha. But anyway please know that I love your art so so much and I kept going back to the curry one and the one where MC came across Amit with beard as adults (that one is hilarious). Idk if your MC has a name or you left it nameless? I assume it was the latter but if she has one I’d love to know!

Faustine Daemon by @faustinio27 Hey, a fellow INFJ! Winter is the same 🩵 I really love her story and especially her personality character sheet, you drew her expressions really well and I’m a fan!

Back row (left to right):

Oliver Lennox by @pixie-dustss Handsome boi 🥰 We’re friends already (I hope I’m not the only one who thinks that way 🫢) from TikTok and you made me a video for Secret Santa last year and I just found out recently that you’re on Tumblr too so I want to say thanks by drawing Oliver! 🩵🩵🩵

Aurélie Collins by @morelikeravenbore I loove this look for Aura, she just looks so chic with the hat and scarf 😭🩵 Sassy Ravenclaw bebe 🥰 My Winter has some French heritage (the lore is still rotting in my notebook bcs I haven’t had the chance to draw her family members 🥲) so I do hope they can be friends and Aura would teach her French bcs she can’t speak much of it 👉🏻👈🏻

Alistair Dusk by @speedysart Surprise! You commented on my last speedpaint on Tiktok yesterday and I want to spill this art so bad but I was almost done so I kept my mouth shut haha. I love the pretty boi’s hair and piercings, and the fact that you chose this blazer for him, I just love it he looks so dapper in that 😣🩵

Eleonora Russel by @zordanna I love sweet Eleonora and her fascination with the moon and stars 🩵🌌 Oh and I kept coming back to your “I feel like an orange” Tiktok bcs it’s so fluffy and it heals my stress… also I adore your art it’s super soft and painty and delicate 🥹💗

@traceyc-uk ‘s MC - YOUR MC. I SWEAR TO MERLIN HE’S ON MY MIND 24/7 LATELY. Not sure why, it’s probably bcs I kept re-reading your comics. Also bcs he’s an adorable little golden retriever (but also a fierce cat!😼) You’re super talented in drawing comics and facial expressions, I have a lot to learn especially in terms of layouting… last time I made a comic I hated the layout and the fact that it looks stiff to me, so your comics has been such an inspiration!

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy mc #moonydrawshl #ravenclaw #oc #hl mc #hogwarts legacy fanart #characters im obsessed with #i genuinely want more ravenclaw friends #winter blackstone #Winter Blackstone and friends

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christopher-bangnaldoskzz · 3 months ago

Text

This is 1000% a rewrite of this series, I read through it recently to refresh my memory of the story and I actually died a little inside knowing this is how I wrote 3 years ago 😅 I deeply apologise so please this is my redemption post.

Soft Dom Bangchan x Female Reader Sub!

Genre: Dark Romance

Word count: 7.5k

Warnings: No warnings yet, however, I am going to say this is strictly 18+ MDNI fan fiction.

Summary: In a world where submissives crave dominance and dominants seek out their submissives, a thrilling tension brews when deep emotions start to intertwine with binding contracts. What happens when the lines blur between desire and duty? Can a contract stay just a contract when the flames of passion ignite? As love weaves its way into the dynamic, are they prepared to face the tumultuous journey of balancing hearts and agreements? The stakes have never been higher—will they surrender to love, or will they fight to keep it in check?

A/N: would also like to dedicate this story to @daceydeath, thank you for always putting up with my deluluness, also thank you for putting up with my drama fill life honestly. I wouldn’t be still writing if it wasn’t for you encouraging me.

Chapter One

"Are you out of your mind, Grace?" you respond, a mix of disbelief and amusement in your voice. Surely, this can’t be serious—she must be joking, right?

"Absolutely, I mean it." She was your sole ally in this vast world, and there was something undeniably captivating about her dominant nature.

“What!.noooo, please, I’m not looking for one at the moment,” you replied, trying to sound convincing, although deep down, you knew it was a lie. The truth was you did desire a Dom to share laughs, experiences, and quiet moments with. However, the thought of finding a random guy on the internet made you feel uneasy.

Grace was aware of your past experiences and the fears that lingered from them. Your last relationship had left a sour taste in your mouth; he had been a bit too rough, disregarding the boundaries you tried to set. You often replayed those uncomfortable moments in your mind, unsure if you were ready to open yourself up to someone new. The idea of stepping back into the BDSM world felt daunting, and the online scene was even more intimidating. You longed for a genuine connection, but the anxiety of navigating it all made you hesitate.

"I have found a guy I think you will like...he classifies himself as a soft Dom, “As she spoke, her fingers quickly navigated her phone's screen until she found the image she was looking for. With a proud smile, she turned the device towards you, revealing a clear picture of the guy. His features were sharp and striking, framed by tousled hair that suggested a carefree spirit, and his expression was one of warm confidence. You could see the way his eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief, instantly drawing you in as she eagerly awaited your reaction.

You look closely at the profile photos. He catches your eye. "Grace, please tell me you haven't messaged him?" You watch her mouth curl into a mischievous grin.

"He's here right now." She was such an asshole for doing this to you. "Okay, behave,” she warns, her teeth clenched tightly. With a mix of tension and determination, the young man strides toward the table, his expression revealing a blend of nervousness and curiosity.

"Umm, hi," he said, rubbing the back of his neck with a hint of nervousness in his voice. You glance up from your spot, and there, standing before you, a man of about 5 feet 7 inches tall. His brown hair is slightly tousled, falling just above his expressive brow. But it’s his eyes that truly captivate you—rich, warm brown, like molten chocolate, drawing you in with an intensity you didn’t expect. As he awkwardly chuckles, a shy smile breaks across his face, revealing a deep dimple in his left cheek, and he shifts his weight before sitting down beside you. The air feels charged with an unspoken connection, and you can’t help but feel your heart flutter at this unexpected encounter.

"Hello, I'm Chan," he said, extending his hand with a warm smile that momentarily lit up the elegant room. But as he leaned in closer to introduce himself the glass of red wine that grace, had ordered from the bar tipped over, spilling its contents across his Fendi black suit.

"Oh no, not again," he exclaimed, his eyes widening in surprise as he quickly lifted the glass, but it was too late. The dark crimson liquid soaked into the fabric, threatening to leave a permanent stain.

Almost instantly, a waiter in a crisp white shirt and black bow tie appeared by your side, looking flustered. "I'm so sorry, sir," he said, his face flushed with embarrassment as he bent down to help with the clean-up. He hurriedly grabbed a stack of napkins and began to dab at the fabric, his movements quick but careful.

"We will get you another glass," the waiter added, waving his hand to signal the bartender to come over and replace the drink.

Chan shook his head, a hint of amusement in his eyes despite the situation. "No, no, it's quite alright, truly. This was all my fault. I really don’t need another glass, thank you," he replied, waving dismissively.

His gaze shifted back to you, and he hesitated for a moment before continuing. "But perhaps, miss—" He glanced at you with an inquisitive expression, silently asking for your last name to complete his introduction.

"Y/L/N," you replied with a playful smile, confidently shaking your head. "But no, thank you—I don't drink," you said, watching as the waiter redirected his attention to the bartender.

A soft "good girl" slipped from Chan's lips just as he attempted to wipe the wine stain off his jacket.

"Wait, don’t rub it! Dab… let me handle that," you said, leaning in closer, the thrill of the moment pulsating in the air. He met your gaze, his eyes lingering on you, drawn in by the tantalising view.

He carefully extended the jacket towards you, his fingers brushing against the fabric as he offered it. "Thank you, but you really don’t have to go through all this trouble," you replied, though your hands had already instinctively reached for the coat. With a napkin soaked in water from your glass, you began gently dabbing at the dark stain that marred the material.

He watched you intently, his expression a mix of curiosity and concern. "It’s important to act quickly; it stops the mark from spreading," you explained, your voice calm yet serious.

Just then, Grace, with a resigned sigh, pulled the clasp of her handbag shut with a decisive snap. "Well, this is off to a swimming start… I think I shall be heading out now," she announced, her tone laced with Amusement. Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel, her heels clicking against the polished floor as she made her way toward the restaurant door, her exit as swift as the unfolding drama around you.

"I'm really sorry she had you come all the way out here just to meet me," you said, brushing your hair back to clear your view.

He glanced at you, a hint of surprise in his wide eyes. "Honestly, I'm not," he replied, a slight smile tugging at his lips.

You caught his gaze and offered the jacket, carefully passing it back to him. "Just remember to use some stain remover when you get home. Let it sit for about 20 minutes, then give it a soak."

He grinned, taking the jacket, placing it behind him. "Stain remover, let it sit, then soak—got it! Thanks for the tip!"

"So, have you visited this place before?" he asked, a nervous itch at his shoulder blades giving away how he was feeling.

Leaning in closer, you locked eyes with him, feeling the weight of the moment. "I'm going to cut to the chase," you said, your voice low and confident. "I know Grace mentioned that I’m looking for a dom, but honestly, after our conversation, I don’t think your quite suited for that role."

Chan raised an eyebrow, a hint of disbelief curling his lips into a smirk. "Oh really? … What makes you think that?" His sudden loss of composure intrigued you, a thrill running down your spine as you recognised the shift in his demeanour.

With a playful giggle, you tilted your head slightly. "Well, for starters, you seem to be struggling to keep it all together," you teased, enjoying the way his confidence wavered under your gaze.

He chuckled, a charming smile spreading across his face as he glanced back down at his menu, the playful banter intensifying the electric tension between you. "Well… you might just have to be the one to keep it together for both of us," he replied, a glint of mischief lighting his eyes.

Curiosity bubbled up inside you as you contemplated where to go from here. With a gracious smile, you leaned back slightly, wanting to gauge his reaction. "Should we hit the reset button on this conversation?" you asked, your voice infused with intrigue. It was clear he was not one to back down easily; the playful challenge hung in the air, inviting exploration.

"I'm Y/N," you said with a warm smile as you extended your hand, ready for a handshake.

"Chan… or you can call me Chris for now," he responded, his eyes locking onto yours as he firmly grasped your hand. There was something reassuring in his grip, a blend of confidence and approachability. "So, tell me, Y/N… what do you like to eat? It's on me, obviously," he added, a playful smirk spreading across his face as if relishing the chance to treat you.

You raised an eyebrow, a teasing glint in your eyes. "Hmmm, if you're paying… I think I might just go for the lobster." A grin broke across your face, the thought of indulging in a luxurious meal making your stomach flutter with anticipation. He chuckled softly, seemingly unfazed by your choice, his gaze wandering back to the menu as he scanned the options with a thoughtful expression.

Suddenly, the same waiter who had attended to you earlier approached your table, a notepad in hand and a charming smile on his face. "Are you ready to order?" he asked, his tone professional yet friendly, clearly accustomed to the rhythm of the restaurant. The atmosphere was filled with the soft hum of conversation and the clinking of dishes.

“I’ll have the eye fillet” Chan said, flashing a warm smile as he looked up at you, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

"And Y/N will have the lobster, right?" he added, confidently placing the order for you. The thought of him being willing to pay for your $100 lobster meal sent a thrill through you, a mix of excitement and disbelief.

"Oh yes, please!" you replied, returning his smile with one of your own, sweet, and grateful as you addressed the waiter. He nodded politely, jotted down your orders, and then disappeared into the bustling atmosphere of the restaurant, leaving you and Chan in a cosy bubble.

"You honestly didn't have to order me lobster... I could have picked something else," you admitted, leaning in closer to him, the intimacy of the moment warming your cheeks.

Chan leaned in too, a mischievous glint in his eye as he lowered his voice slightly, creating an air of secrecy between you. "The truth is… I'm secretly hoping you don't eat it all so I can have some." The playful confession made your heart flutter; you loved how he relaxed in your company, the tension that once lingered starting to fade away.

"Maybe Grace was right about you," you teased, taking a sip of your water, savouring the cool refreshment as you tried to read the expression on his face, delighting in the rapport that seemed to blossom effortlessly between you two.

"Oh, you think so... hmmm, interesting," he said, leaning back in his chair, his fingers interlaced thoughtfully. “So why did you leave your last dom?” His gaze was steady, encouraging you to share more.

“He uhhhh... he was a sadist,” you began, you voice trailing off as memories flooded back. “I left him because he burnt me pretty bad." The weight of your confession hung in the air, a heavy reminder of a past that felt both distant and achingly close. As you recalled those terrifying times, it felt as though it all happened just yesterday; the emotional scars still fresh in your mind, a painful reminder of a relationship that had spiralled out of control.

"How severe is it?" His voice carried an undertone of concern, mixed with a curious edge that hinted he was trying to grasp just how serious the situation really was. The furrow in his brow and the intensity in his gaze suggested he braced himself for an answer that could change everything.

"Let's just say my back tells a story, “You replied, your tone deliberately flat. The scars weren't merely physical; they were haunting reminders of a past you rarely revealed. You wondered if he would probe deeper or gracefully allow this moment to linger in silence.

"So, fire is definitely a hard boundary for you, then?" His voice softened, now cautious as he delicately navigated a sensitive topic. It was evident he wanted to understand your limits without pushing you into uncomfortable territory.

"Yes, absolutely," you replied, a slow smile breaking through as you started to warm to the idea of Chris as your master.

"Noted," he said, folding his arms thoughtfully. "Did he ever mention anything about being into sadism?"

"No, not at all. He started off charming and sweet. I never would have agreed to play if I’d known. But over time, as our relationship deepened, his obsession with sadism began to surface."

"I'm truly sorry he treated you that way," Chris said softly, his voice filled with empathy as he reached across the table to take your hand in his. His gaze was intense, penetrating your eyes as if searching for a connection. "But if you decide to be with me…I promise I will never put you in a position like that." There was sincerity in his tone that made your heart flutter.

You hesitated for a moment, the weight of his words settling over you. "But it's your turn now," you said, eager to learn more about him. "Why did you leave your last partner?"

A flicker of vulnerability crossed his face. "She left me... There were just certain expectations I couldn't fulfil, things she wanted from me that I couldn't overcome," he explained, his voice tinged with regret. "We came to the conclusion that it was best for her to move on." The admission stirred some unease within you, prompting you to dig deeper. "So, it sounds like… you weren't firm enough for her?"

A nervous tension sparked in the air as he pulled his hand away, his expression shifting as if he were retreating into himself. Just then, the waiter approached with the meals, momentarily breaking the atmosphere.

"Excuse me, sir… would you mind placing both meals in the centre of the table?" you asked, giving the waiter a warm, inviting smile. He nodded in agreement, carefully setting down the beautifully plated steak and lobster in front of you.

"Thank you so much. I truly appreciate it," you said, watching the waiter depart with satisfaction. As you turned back to Chris, you noticed a flicker of admiration in his eyes.

"Here, allow me," you offered, excitedly reaching for a lobster tail. With deft movements, you placed it beside the generous steak. You then sliced the steak in half, transferring one piece onto the lobster plate. After artfully arranging lobster tails atop the steak, you drizzled luscious lobster sauce over the entire presentation.

Once you had skilfully crafted the dish, you presented it to Chris, who looked genuinely captivated, his eyes wide in disbelief.

As he snapped out of his daze, a soft chuckle escaped your lips. "I believe they call this surf and turf."

His smile faltered, replaced with a thoughtful expression. "Thank you. I must be honest with you… I would like to discuss the possibility of a contract."

Chan POV

"Chan, come on, you really have to move on from Vanessa," Changbin asserted as he dramatically dropped onto the well-worn studio couch, the cushions sinking under his weight.

"I’ve moved on, seriously," I scoffed, trying to sound more confident than I felt.

"Then what’s the big deal about going on this date?" Changbin asked, tilting his head slightly and shifting to the edge of the couch, his curiosity evident in his expression.

"I don’t know, man... I’m just nervous," I admitted, running a hand through my hair in frustration. "What if she doesn’t like me? What if it all goes wrong? She doesn’t even know it’s supposed to be a date," I continued, my voice trailing off as I felt the weight of uncertainty settle in my chest. As I spoke, Changbin began packing up his headphones, clearly trying to focus on my dilemma.

Changbin was staring at me, his brow slightly furrowed and his eyes wide with confusion, as if he were trying to piece together a puzzle that didn’t quite fit.

"It's someone that Grace arranged for me to go on a date with," I explained, trying to keep the details vague. I didn't want to delve into the specifics of how the matchmaking had come about or share my mixed feelings about it.

"Oh, your hot friend Grace," he said with a smile. If only he knew what she was like, she would eat him alive. "When are you planning to hook me up with her?" he continued.

"I'm not… you're not her type" I mean, I wasn't lying. She liked women.

"You just want her all to yourself," he said, his voice laced with a hint of jealousy as he fixed his gaze on the ground, his brow furrowing slightly.

"Anyway," I replied, meeting his eyes with a light smile, trying to shift the conversation away from the tension. "What do you think I should wear? We’re going to a really fancy restaurant, and I want to look the part."

He paused for a moment, considering my question, before finally saying, "Your black suit is stylish. It always fits you perfectly."

……

This brings me to the point where I find myself saying, "I would really like to offer you a contract," and I can't help but wonder, Chan, why do you always act this way? She barely knows you, and here you are, making a complete spectacle of yourself. I couldn't help but notice the advice about the stained shirt—I mean, it was a bold move on her part to share that with me. And the way she offered me half of her food was so generous. I realise that if I don't seize this opportunity now, I might never encounter another submissive like her again.

She smiled politely, a hint of amusement in her eyes, and replied, "I'm flattered…but don't you think you should get to know me a bit better first?" As she said this, she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, her gesture both casual and intimate, making me realise just how much I wanted to learn more about her.

"I'll be right back," I promised, glancing at her as a smile spread across her face. I knew that Vannesa always kept a stash of hair ties in my car, a little quirk of hers that I had come to appreciate. With a quick stride, I made my way to the parking lot, the cool evening air brushing against my skin.

Once I reached my car, I opened the glove compartment with a soft click. Inside, neatly tucked away among a few scattered receipts and an old parking ticket, were the hair ties — a colorful assortment that Vanessa loved. I picked out a bright pink one, its elastic still strong and ready for action.

"Perfect," I murmured to myself as I closed the compartment and locked my car's door. I turned and made my way back to the restaurant, my heart a little lighter with each step.

As I re-entered the warm, inviting space filled with laughter and the clinking of glasses, I spotted Y/N sitting at our table, her hair slightly tousled. "Here," I said, extending the pink hair tie toward her. "Please… take this."

Her eyes sparkled with delight as she reached for it, the tension in her features easing with a grateful smile. In that moment, I could see how the small gesture meant the world to her.

A faint blush crept across her cheeks as she glanced down, an awkward smile breaking through her initial embarrassment. "Oh wow, thank you… I, umm, totally forgot to bring mine," she admitted, her voice light yet laced with a hint of self-consciousness.

I chuckled softly, remembering my own past. "You know, my ex used to always keep spare hair ties in the glove compartment of the car. I completely forgot they were even there until I saw you struggling with your hair," As I spoke, I took a decisive cut into the perfectly cooked steak on my plate, savouring the moment while trying to ease her discomfort.

"Well, thank you," she replied, returning my gaze with a warm smile.

As she tied her hair up, I couldn't help but notice how the sleek strands came together in a polished ponytail, accentuating the graceful curve of her neck. There was something undeniably captivating about her look, and I found myself drawn to the way the lighting caught her hair, making it shimmer. "I really like you with your hair up," I remarked, feeling a rush of warmth spread across my cheeks as her eyes lit up with my compliment. Her smile widened, and in that moment, the world around us seemed to fade away.

……

As I glanced down at my watch, the glowing numbers caught my eye, and a sense of urgency washed over me. The night had slipped away faster than I had anticipated.

"Well, Chris…" she said softly, a hint of reluctance in her voice as she reached across the small table to grasp my hand. Her touch was warm and grounding, making it difficult for me to let go of the moment.

"I'll walk you to the car," I replied, hoping to prolong our time together just a little longer. After settling the bill, I led the way out of the cosy restaurant, the sound of our footsteps echoing off the sidewalk.

As we walked beside each other, the cool evening air wrapped around us, filled with the faint sounds of laughter and clinking glasses from nearby establishments. We made our way around the corner, where her car was parked under a lamppost, the light casting a gentle glow over its sleek silhouette. I couldn't help but steal glances at her as we walked, cherishing each second of this fleeting encounter.

"Thank you for tonight," she said with a warm smile, her eyes sparkling with the soft glow of the overhead lights. "I assume Grace gave you, my number?" She laughed lightly, the sound as familiar as a favourite song. She and Grace had a long-standing friendship, a connection that made me feel a little more at ease.

"Yeah, she texted it to me during dinner," I replied, chuckling in return.

"Well… call me, please," she continued, her voice shifting from casual to something more serious yet undeniably inviting. There was a warmth in her tone that caught me off guard. "I'd love to discuss your proposal." Did I really hear that correctly? Did she just express genuine interest in talking about the contract? My heart raced at the thought, the prospect electrifying.

In that fleeting moment, I felt a powerful surge of desire to convey just how much she intrigued me. I could almost visualise those soft, inviting lips of hers brushing against mine, the warmth of our kiss igniting something deep within. Yet, amidst that longing, a voice of caution echoed in my mind, reminding me that rushing into anything too quickly could scare her off. I took a deep, steadying breath, trying to find the right balance between my yearning and the need to nurture a genuine connection.

"You can kiss me, Chris," she said with a playful smile, her hand resting lightly on my chest, sending a jolt of electricity through me. I gently tilted her chin upward, ensuring our eyes locked in a moment that felt suspended in time. With a soft, steadying breath, I leaned in, my lips hovering tantalizingly close to hers. "I will, but only when you sign that contract, missy," I teased, a playful smile breaking on my lips as I held her gaze, savouring the tension that crackled between us.

Y/N POV

You couldn't believe it, but Grace was right about him. As he strolled away towards his car, a warm smile spread across your face, a blend of excitement and disbelief. Everything about him seemed to resonate with you, from the way he carried himself to the charming glint in his eyes that sparked a quiet hope for what might unfold.

Just as you were lost in your thoughts, your phone buzzed in your pocket, pulling you back to reality.

**Ting Ting**

An unknown number flashed on the screen, and with a curious frown, you opened the message. It read:

"Meet me at my office on Monday at 9 a.m. (address included). We will discuss the contract terms then - Master."

Y/N

"Yes, sir, I look forward to it."

………

Sunday morning dawns, and you are jolted awake by an insistent pounding on your door. Groggily rubbing your eyes, you mutter, "Jesus Christ," to yourself as you swing your legs over the edge of the bed and shuffle toward the door.

Swinging it open, you find Grace standing there, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. "Oh good, you’re up!" she exclaims, brushing past you into the apartment without a second thought. "So, how did the date turn out with Chris? Isn’t he just delicious?"

Sitting down on the couch with a resigned sigh, you can't help but smile at her excitement. "He’s nice," you reply, playing with the hem of your shirt. "But... he’s an absolute mess." You lean back against the cushions, recalling the chaos of the evening you just survived. Grace plops down next to you, eager for the full story.

"Look, I know Chan pretty well," she said, settling onto the couch with a decisive thud. "He was a bit nervous earlier, which is unusual for him. You must understand, he’s a very sought-after dom in our community. He doesn't just take on any submissive; he’s quite selective. If he's offering you a contract, trust me, you should seriously consider it."

Curiosity piqued, I leaned in and asked, "What makes him so special?"

She raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by my question. "Excuse me? He is the perfect dom…. If you're looking for a soft pleasure dom, he's one of the absolute best out there."

My mind raced as I processed that. "Wait, he’s a pleasure dom?" It felt like an incredible revelation. Pleasure doms are rare gems in this community, and to hear about one of his calibres was intriguing. It's no wonder he had such high demand—his reputation preceded him.

"Absolutely, big time," she affirmed, her eyes lighting up with excitement. "He hasn’t had a submissive for over eight months now, which is practically an eternity for him. I’ve never seen him so anxious about meeting someone before. He must really like you—there's no other explanation for his nerves! So, when does he want you to sit down and discuss the details of the contract?"

"Tomorrow," you said, turning towards her. Suddenly you feel nervous. What if you can't please him like he wants.

“Shit, he’s moving fast,” she exclaimed, her voice tinged with disbelief. She shook her head, her brow furrowing as thoughts raced through her mind. “Look, nobody knows Chan like I do… There’s no way he’d just turn around and ask a girl he met to sign a contract like that.”

Her tone shifted, urgency seeping into her words. “So, what should I do, Grace?” you asked, anxiety creeping into your voice.

“Listen to me… You need to hear him out, alright?” She leaned in closer, her eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. “Do you trust me?”

“Yeah,” you replied, your gaze unwavering as you searched her eyes for assurance.

“Good girl,” she said, a sultry undertone lacing her words, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her lips, as if she knew she had you right where she wanted you.

………

**Monday**

Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, you took a deep breath, your fingers carefully wrapping a curling wand around a lock of hair. “Why am I so nervous?” you muttered, forcing yourself to focus on your reflection. The soft morning light streamed through the window, highlighting the mix of excitement and anxiety etched across your features.

“Okay, Y/N… You’ve done this before,” you reassured yourself, smoothing down the front of your blouse. “Just strike out what you’re not comfortable with.” You ran through your mental checklist, contemplating the plans for the evening, and mentally discarding any doubts that surfaced.

Finally, satisfied with your appearance, you grabbed your handbag—a sleek black purse that felt just right in your hand—and headed for the door, taking one last glance back at your apartment. With a quick exhale, you stepped outside into the crisp air, feeling a flutter of nerves in your stomach.

As you approached the curb, your heart raced a little faster. There, parked majestically in front of your building, was a black Range Rover. Standing beside it was Chris, an easy smile lighting up his face as he spotted you. “Oh good… I was afraid you wouldn't show up,” he chuckled, his warm demeanour instantly easing some of the tension you felt. The sound of his voice made you grin.

"So, you actually came to pick me up?" you inquired, your voice laced with curiosity as you approached him.

Chris stepped aside with a flourish, swinging open the door of his sleek black car. "After you," he replied, a hint of mischief in his eyes. You couldn’t help but wonder what had prompted this unexpected gesture. Wasn’t he supposed to have his own driver? The thought lingered as you climbed into the plush leather seat, the scent of fresh upholstery filling your senses.

Inside the car, an uncomfortable silence settled between you, heavy with unspoken words. You caught glimpses of the city lights reflecting in the windows, your mind racing as you tried to make sense of the situation. Just as the tension began to feel unbearable, Chris reached over, his hand enveloping yours with a warmth that both surprised and calmed you. He threaded his fingers through yours, creating an unbreakable connection. "You don't have to be a nervous baby girl," he said, his tone both gentle and commanding.

You let out a nervous chuckle, shaking your legs to release the anxious energy coursing through you. "I can't help it," you admitted, feeling the flutter of excitement and anxiety battling within.

"Spot that," he said, his voice taking on a stern edge as he fixed his gaze on the road ahead. There was a seriousness in his tone that made your heart race, but a part of you felt comforted, knowing he was there.

You sit perfectly still in the passenger seat, fixing your gaze straight ahead, your heart racing as you decide to remain silent for the remainder of the drive to his office. The moment you arrive, the name "JYP Entertainment" slips from your lips, your tone laced with surprise and intrigue.

With a playful chuckle, Chris swings open the car door and steps out, the sound of the vehicle’s door closing echoing in the quiet lot.

“Here, allow me to help,” he offers, extending his hand toward you with a warm, inviting smile. You can feel a slight flutter in your stomach as he firmly locks his fingers around yours.

He leads you through the entrance of the building, its sleek, modern design taking your breath away. "I've booked a meeting room for us," he states, a glimmer of excitement in his eyes. You can’t help but notice the briefcase he holds, its professional elegance hinting at the serious nature of the meeting ahead.

"This way," he continues, his voice bright with enthusiasm, as he guides you toward the elevator. The polished metal doors slide open, and you step inside, both of you sharing a moment of anticipation as the elevator begins its ascent.

As the elevator doors slid open with a soft ding, you stepped inside alongside him, feeling the heat of his presence nearby. His hand trailed along your lower back, a gentle yet possessive gesture that sent a shiver down your spine.

The soft hum of the building faded away, leaving just the two of you in a bubble once again. You settled into a chair, the plush fabric contrasting the excitement that swirled in your stomach, while he turned to pour you a cup of water from a sleek glass pitcher on the table.

“have some water,” he commanded, his voice firm but not unkind, echoing authority that sent your heart racing.

With a playful glimmer in your eyes, you shot back, “You’re not my dom yet, Chris… I don’t have to listen to you.” Your tone carried a cheeky defiance, a challenge laced with a hint of flirtation.

In response, he leaned closer, closing the distance between you until he was mere inches from your face. His breath tickled your ear as he whispered, “Do you want to repeat that?” The thrill of his proximity made your pulse quicken, mixing a touch of mischief with a growing sense of exhilaration that hung heavily in the air.

You take a gentle sip of water, the cool liquid soothing your parched throat as you try to quell the anticipation bubbling within you. He leans closer, his presence both comforting and electrifying. "That's my good girl," he murmurs, pressing a soft, tender kiss just below your ear. The warmth of his lips against your skin sends an involuntary shiver cascading down your body, igniting a thrill that dances through you.

"Alright… shall we get started?" he asks, shifting into a more businesslike demeanour as he settles down next to you. With deft movements, he opens his briefcase, revealing a neatly organised array of documents inside.

He pulls out two contracts, the crisp paper brimming with promises and stipulations. "Let's begin with the limits," he states, his voice steady as he hands one of the contracts to you. With a flick of his wrist, he opens his copy, revealing a series of terms and agreements laid out before him. "I took the liberty of striking out fire," he says, glancing at you to gauge your reaction.

You nod appreciatively, feeling a sense of control in the negotiation. "Okay, also animal and age play… those need to go as well," you respond assertively, catching his eye momentarily. There's a moment of understanding between you two—a silent assurance that both of you are on the same page. "And you should add… I will not refer to you as anything other than Chan, Chris, Master, or Sir."

He smiles as he acknowledges your added stipulation, a glint of approval in his eyes. "Okay, yeah, that works for me," he replies, his tone lightening with the shift in energy. Then, with a teasing lilt, he leans slightly closer and raises an eyebrow at you, asking without words if you have any further limitations in mind. "Sooooo noooo..." His playful inflection hangs in the air, inviting a deeper exploration of the intricate boundaries you’re both establishing.

“No use of the word 'Daddy,'” you say with a slight frown, your eyes narrowing playfully.

“Okay, okay, that’s fine with me,” he replies, raising both hands in mock surrender, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Curiosity piqued; you lean in closer to examine the document spread out on the table. “What is this down here… am I meant to move in with you?” The words hang in the air, and you can’t help but feel your pulse quicken at the thought.

“Uh, well… only if you want to,” he stammers, his cheeks flushing slightly. He reaches for a pen, ready to strike that line out, but you swiftly grab his hand, squeezing it gently to stop him.

“How about we start with just weekends, okay? Besides,” you add with a teasing grin, “I have to work during the week.”

Chris's expression brightens at your decision. The tension eases, replaced by a shared excitement as he nods, clearly pleased with the compromise.

……

As the hours ticked by and you delved deeper into the intricacies of the contract, a sense of comfort began to wash over you. Chris had truly anticipated every detail, which was both reassuring and exciting. Eager to break the silence, you turned to him and asked, “How long have you been a master?”

A warm smile spread across his face, and he met your gaze with a glimmer of pride in his eyes. “I’ve been a master for five years now," he replied, his tone light yet filled with a hint of nostalgia. He looked away for a moment, as if lost in a memory, before continuing, “Before that, I was a sub.”

“Oh, really?” you interjected, genuinely intrigued. “What made you decide to make that transition?”

A soft chuckle escaped him, and he leaned back slightly, his demeanour becoming more relaxed as he reminisced. “It was my dom… She inspired me in ways I never expected. She was incredibly smart and stunningly beautiful, but she had this fierce temper that kept everyone on their toes,” he admitted, the warmth of his memories evident in his voice.

You leaned in a little closer, your heart racing with anticipation. “So, is that what I can expect from you?” you challenged playfully, feeling a flush of excitement as you pressed your legs together tightly. The prospect of uncovering more about Chris and what it meant to be under his guidance stirred a rush within you.

"I make it my priority to be fair in all situations," he states, a playful smile dancing on his lips. "But I must warn you upfront—I only provide one chance when it comes to behaviour. If you test the limits, punishment will follow, and trust me, I don't take chatting back lightly." He observes you closely, noticing the hint of mischief in your eyes that suggests a bratty side lurking beneath the surface.

"Oh really? Hmmmm... that sounds intriguing. Have you ever successfully tamed a brat before?" you reply, your voice laced with seductive curiosity, a challenge glimmering in your eyes.

"I have," he replies, his tone firm yet teasing. "Just remember, even though I have a softer approach as a dominant, I won’t tolerate bad attitudes for long." He continues flicking through the contract, his focus partially on the words, but mostly on you.

"I wouldn't dream of testing you, sir," you say, a slight smirk playing on your lips. Chris's expression shifts at your use of "sir," a flicker of interest igniting in his eyes.

"I'd love to see your house before I sign the contract," you add, your tone growing more enticing.

"Absolutely," he replies, gripping the paper tightly, his curiosity piqued. "Do you have time to check it out right now?" He leans forward, eager to show you more than just the words on the page.

"I actually need to go to work", you smiled. Very convenient timing.

“Perfect, I’ll drop you off,” he said with a tone that caught you off guard. You felt a rush of heat spread through you; after all, you worked at a sex shop, and the last thing you wanted was for him to discover that little secret in such an unexpected manner.

With a gentle smile, he led you down the path to the car, his presence both reassuring and slightly intimidating. As he opened the passenger door, you hesitated for just a moment before sliding into the plush seat. The driver, who had been waiting patiently, turned to you expectantly as you recited the address.

As you spoke, you glanced over to find Chris looking increasingly astonished. “You mean the sex shop on the corner?” he asked, his eyes widening in disbelief.

A light laugh escaped your lips, barely able to conceal the amusement bubbling within you. “Yeah, is that a problem?” You tried to keep your tone light and playful, enjoying the unexpected turn of events.

He shook his head, attempting to maintain an air of nonchalance, though you noticed the hint of a blush creeping up his cheeks. “Nope… not at all,” he replied, though the way he fidgeted with his hands and avoided your gaze gave away his intrigue. You could tell he was trying to play it cool, but it was hard to miss the excitement fluttering beneath the surface.

Your workplace is about twenty minutes away, nestled in a bustling part of town. As you pull up outside the shop, Chris undoes his seatbelt with a determined look on his face.

"What are you doing?" you exclaim, a wave of panic rising in your chest. The thought of him entering the shop sends your mind racing.

"I’m coming in…. I want to look around… and I might pick up some toys for later when I come to get you," he replies, his voice casual but his eyes glinting with mischief.

"Don't you dare," you retort, giving him a warning look. His expression shifts, and he shoots you a challenging stare, the kind that reminds you how stubborn he can be. Realising you’ve lost this battle, you slump back into your seat, resigned but still slightly irked.

"Let’s go," he says with a playful grin as he steps out of the car, extending his hand toward you.

You take a deep breath, roll your eyes, and push the door open, hopping out reluctantly. "Fine," you mutter, but there's a hint of amusement in your voice. As you take his hand, you can’t help but feel a mix of exasperation and affection for his spontaneous nature. Together, you walk toward the entrance of the shop, the bell above the door jingling as you step inside.

Chan POV

"Did she really just roll her eyes at me?" I thought, feeling a mix of irritation and intrigue. "Be careful, Channie... she's not yours just yet," I reminded myself as I walked beside her, the anticipation of the moment hanging heavily in the air. Though the urge to discipline her for her blatant disrespect bubbled beneath the surface, I knew I'd have to bide my time.

As we approached the store, I reached out and intertwined my fingers with hers, the warmth of her hand sending a jolt through me. She paused momentarily, her surprise flickering in her eyes, before she confidently led me inside. "Good morning, Noah," she greeted cheerfully as we entered, her voice brightening the room. I cast a glance toward Noah, who stood behind the counter—a striking young man with long, flowing blond hair that framed his chiseled features, and piercing blue eyes that seemed to capture the attention of everyone around him.

"Morning, Y/N... Who's this?" he asked, extending his hand toward me with a mixture of curiosity and charm.

I grasped his hand firmly, my grip slightly stronger than normal, as if to assert my presence. "This is my friend Chris," she said, her smile a beacon of warmth as she looked up at me, the friendly tone in her voice stinging a little. Just a friend? A surge of possessiveness surged within me; I yearned to show her just what kind of "friend" I could be.

Y/N then walked behind the counter, placing her bag with a practiced ease that suggested familiarity, while I observed her every move. There was an effortless grace to the way she navigated her surroundings. Once she returned to my side, a playful smirk danced on her lips. "Okay, you can leave now," she playfully dismissed me.

Taking the moment, I gently lifted her chin with my index finger, a gesture that was both tender and commanding. Drawn in by the magnetism that crackled between us, I leaned closer and pressed my lips against hers. The softness of her plump lips sent a rush of warmth through me, and I couldn't help but smile as I pulled back, feeling victorious.

I turned to Noah, whose expression of shock illuminated the space between us—clearly, he hadn’t seen that coming. With a sense of satisfaction swelling within me, I stepped out of the store and headed back to the car, a grin plastered on my face. "That'll show him... she's all mine," I muttered under my breath as I settled into the driver's seat. Opening my phone, I glanced at the time and said, "Okay, can we go back to the company?" My mind was already racing ahead, planning the next moves in this intricate game.

A:n thank you again to all that have read my rewrite for master

Taglist: @daceydeath @bakedlilgoonie @armystay89 @krishastumblernow @cakeracha

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csilla0issa · 3 months ago

Text

YOUR SWEET HUSBAND, NANAMI ! ♡

*＊✿❀○❀✿＊*

〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎You stood outside you and Nanami’s shared home, leaning against the wooden fence of the overhanging patio that overlooked the river behind the beautiful farm house you and your husband had bought just a few years ago. The warm summer air had given you the urge to enjoy the season while it lasted, the calendar marking August 26th, close to the end of your daughters favorite season. The bright green vines hung off the corner of the house, growing from the many trees that surrounded the property that stood atop a pretty hill. Flowers you watered every morning bloomed in their pots on the ground, as well as the few hanging pots giving it's feeling of nature.

Nanami was assumedly working on papers in his study, though instead he was sitting at his wooden desk, leaning back into the chair in his white button down shirt that had a few buttons loose at the collar, and light blue jeans, gazing at pictures of you and his beloved little girl, Evelyn, from his phone. Evelyn had inherited his blonde hair, your carried genetics making her hair wavy, and she carried your eye color and the few freckles, as well as your facial features. His two beautiful girls. A soft smile tugged at his lips, chuckles occasionally escaping from videos of you and your 6 year old daughter making a mess in the kitchen while making the sweet fudgy brownies Evelyn loved so much. His heart swelled at each photo, passing by pictures of you on dates when he snuck in a picture from behind you, who was distracted at aquarium exhibits.

He had quickly started to long for his gorgeous wife, standing up from his office chair and padding into the kitchen hoping to find you there. Instead he gazed out the open glass french doors next to the counters to see you adoring nature and humming a tune softly. His heart fluttered. God, he loved you so much. His beautiful, sweet, and loving wife of 7 years. He shook his head, an amused smile replacing the earlier soft one at the sight of you in your own world as he walked out to the patio. He gently wrapped his arms around you from behind, nuzzling his face into your neck, take a soft inhale of your flowery perfume.

"Hi, my love." He mumbled, his voice filled with longing.

You flinched just a little at the sudden feel of his arms around you, obviously not expecting him to be out here but you still kept that smile he loved so much.

"Hi. Are you done with your papers?"

He chuckled softly. "No, I wanted to come see you. I didn't get anything done, m’missed you."

You could've sworn your heart bursted at his words, turning around to face him and plant a soft kiss onto the corner of his mouth. He playfully dodged the kiss, coming back to press his lips against yours. After you pulled back, you wrapped your arms around him and placed your head onto his chest, his steady heartbeat lulling you into a tranquil state.

You two stayed like that for a long while, basking in each others love and presence before the silence was broke by the loud giggling of your daughter running out onto the patio as well. Nanami gently yet reluctantly unwrapped his arms from around you, turning around to catch Evelyn into his arms right before she bumped into something and tackling her with hugs and tickles onto her sides. The sight made you laugh, watching as your daughter settled into her father's arms with a big smile in her poofy dress with bright flowers embroidered into the white fabric.

"Hello to you too, princess. What's my little girl doing?" He cooed softly, glancing down to see her chubby hands wrapped around his fingers.

"Making a picture for Mama!" Evelyn exclaimed.

Your eyes widened slightly, a tiny ‘oooh’ falling past your lips as you stood closer to Nanami and Evelyn, your eyes flickering to the drawing in your daughters hand. "Can I see?"

"Hmph! No, I'm not done yet." Evelyn exclaimed grumpily, crossing her arms like the drama queen she was. "You have to catch me first!"

She then squirmed out of Nanami’s arms, running back into the house as you then ran off after her with a playful smile and soon catching her into your arms as Nanami carefully followed behind. He gazed at the bright smile on your face, and the big, proud grin gracing the face of the little miracle you two had made together with love. He sure did have regrets, a bunch of them, but he knew now that he has never and ever will regret the life he has now.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

#jujutsu kaisen #nanami kento #nanami x reader #jjk fluff #love #jjk kento #kento nanami

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that-girl-from-nicu · 1 month ago

Text

Saving the Saviour - Part 1

Don't be late

Song for this fic: "Baby" - Robert Bradley's Blackwater Surprise. (Robbys GOAT song - the only song in the actual TV show. Smooth, needing, melodic in a way that soothes everything. Just so happens the lyrics align with this first part which was a happy accident that I'm stoked with)

My first and maybe my only post. Be kind. I'm not good with the editing, which will become obvious. Fun to write tho.

NSFW. 18+

Warnings: medical jargon because the pitt and I'm a NICU nurse. Premature birth (25 weeks). Near death pregnancy experience mentioned. CPR. Emergency perimortem caesarean. Bit of angst. Mutual pining at first glance. Lots of flirting. $ex. F!ngering. Coffee (not in that order, caffeination before masturbation y'all). Consent (gained x100000 because he's Robby). Fluff I think? She's wordy and a little bit dorky. Hopefully compelling idk

Scene: 3 years prior to current day. Fem reader is a NICU nurse and meets Robby in the ER for a premature delivery. Sparks ignite and the end up having a rootin tooting good time later that night and (spoiler alert) forever.

You'd met Robby in the only way anyone ever meets Robby; trauma. It was three years ago, on a warm tuesday morning in July.

As you sat by the bedside of your tiny NICU patient, expertly responding to their needs with your attention to detail, your phone rang.

"It's Dana, down in the Pitt. We've got a 25 week mom coming in, in cardiac arrest. Covid positive. Setting up for a peri-mortem cesar on arrival. Can you come down? Trauma Bay 2. ETA 7 minutes". Dana sounded not so calm, a contrast to her normal nonchalant, chill AF, work mom voice. ER staff are terrified by newborns, moreso by preemies.

"Be there in 90 seconds, chica", you replied.

"You're a doll". You could hear the relief in her voice as she hung up.

You grabbed a micro-preemie birth pack and the emergency kit, and started sprinting down the corridor to the stairwell. Each floor took just a matter of seconds to descend.

Pushing your way through the glass doors to the emergency room, you made a bee line for Trauma Bay 2. Dana had placed an infant resuscitation cot in the corner and you immediately got to work, propping your equipment strategically and warming the mattress. Donned your PPE. ETA was now 3 minutes, just enough time to draw up doses of adrenaline and saline. You were ready for the baby.

The silence in Trauma Bay 2 was broken but the whoosh of the curtain being drawn. A tall, intimidating man caught your eye as he entered. His presence was commanding.

He started talking while you assessed him, his eyes fixed on you. "NICU?" He asked with raised eyebrows.

"Yep. Set up and ready to rock" you said, with an awkward thumbs up. Why you are the way you are, nobody knows.

You saw a boyish smile in his eyes at your gesture. It caught you by surprise.

"Okay, listen up" he started, as a team of nurses and junior filled the room.

"34 year old woman, 25 weeks pregnant, 3rd baby, 2 prior cesareans. Covid pneumonia at home. Cardiac arrest of unknown cause. She's had 3 rounds of epi and continuous chest compressions for the last 30 minutes. Once she gets in here, if she doesn't have return of spontaneous circulation we will proceed immediately to a peri-mortem caesarean. Santos, tell me the purpose of a Perimortem cesar..."

Dr Santos immediately spoke. "To reduce the physiological burden on the mothers body. Baby's neurological condition is unknown; mom may well return to pre-arrest cognition with proper treatment. Always save mom first. May need a resuscitative hysterectomy if there's..."

The tall doctor cuts her off. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. But yes, if there is unacceptable blood loss, we may".

He paused, looking at you. He gestures over to you leaning against the wall.

"This right here is todays likely hero," he scanned your badge with his brown eyes through rounded frames. "She's NICU and she's going to save this baby. Do not, under any circumstances touch her patient. Do not touch her things. Do not interrupt her. Don't even look at the baby unless she says you can. She CAN and WILL bite you. Right? You bite, right?"

Your cheeks flushed with heat, and you weren't entirely sure why.

"Uh, yes." You searched his badge for a name. Michael Robinavich. "Thankyou Dr Robinavich. Happy to educate as I go but please don't touch. And yes, i bite", you let out half a laugh and rolled your eyes. You're not sure to this day why people are terrified of NICU nurses, but if it makes them leave you alone while you work, you don't question it.

"Call me Dr Robby". That heat in your cheeks again, now felt in your belly.

With his PPE on, you could only tell so much about this man's appearance. Tall. Broad shoulders, a little rounded. Eyes like two pools of dark chocolate. Deep smile lines at the outer edges. Freckles haphazardly spotted his cheek bones. Salt and pepper hair, scruffy but somehow neat. And several days growth to match, ending at the pulse points that you couldn't take your eyes off.

Dana burst into the room, "Incoming!" followed by the patient on a guerney with 2 EMTs - one continuing CPR.

"Right" doctor Robby started. "All hands off. Let's see if we've got circulation."

A tense few seconds passed as the monitor scrolled slowly with no pulse.

Robby cursed, "Fuck. Asystole. Whittaker, compressions. Now! Let's get her hip elevated on the right to reduce the pressure on the aorta. We are now going to start a perimortem cesar." He looked urgently at you, "I'll have baby out in 2 and a half minutes" he said almost inaudibly. You nodded.

Robby made the rushed but precise incisions, one after the other. Whittaker - like a terrified baby deer in the headlights - continued compressions while an unfazed nurse bagged between rounds. ER nurses have seen things. You're terrified of them and in awe of them. The feeling is mutual.

"Waters!" Robby proclaimed. "Clear. No blood. Cancel that Hysterectomy, Santos". Santos looked disappointed. You made a mental note to keep an eye on her if she ever rotated to NICU.

In an instant, the small 1 pound baby was out. You rushed over and slipped the tiny, purple human into a zip lock bag, it's head poking out a hole you had pre-cut at the bottom.

Javadi watched, her curiosity speaking before her sensibility thought better of it. "A plastic bag? What- why?"

"Keeps my lunch fresh and my patients warm." you shrugged. "Won't use this one for my sandwich now though."

Doctor robby let out a laugh behind you, wrist-deep inside the uterus, gently delivering the placenta.

Javadi looked confused and overwhelmed. So you kept working on baby but explained your process.

"See, preemie babies have a high body surface area to mass ratio. They also don't have much brown fat to insulate them. With this bag, there is less insensible water loss and less heat loss. Kind of like a greenhouse for babies!"

"That's... pretty simple and yet amazing!" Javadi said with an excited smile.

Your neonatal resident was already providing breaths to your tiny patient, who (unsurprisingly) hadn't taken one of their own yet. In silence, everyone watched nervously as the tiniest of tubes was slid into baby's airway with precision and ease. "Yellow, we're good for airway", you proclaimed as the carbon dioxide detector glowed to match your plastic gown. "Heart rate 145. Good perfusion. Reflexes present. Dana? Would you let NICU know we will head up shortly?". Dana nodded, she was already on it. Love that woman.

You turned to face the now post-partum woman. Compressions had stopped for a pulse check, and there it was. She was holding her own heart rate. Robby was finishing up her stitches "get her an ICU bed, Dana. Now please". Dana threw her hands in the air with her clipboard, "what am I, the bed bitch?". "Yes!" you and Robby said in sync.

-----

"Boy or girl?" Robby looked you in the eyes, asking about the baby.

"Oh, I hadn't checked. Y'know," you gestured vaguely around the room "had other priorities. $20 bet?" you raised an eyebrow at him and he faltered for a moment before answering. "Coffee on the loser for a week. Boy."

"So? What is it?" he craned his neck over in your direction.

"It's umm" you search through the condensation on the bag to find the answer. "Ha! It's a weeks worth of Vannila lattes at your expense. I like them at 8:30am. Jumbo size. Don't be late, Doc".

Robby chuckled low. A sound that hit your ears just right. "I'm never late, nurse."

You finished setting up your patient for transport to the NICU. Robby had finished the suturing too. You met him at the PPE station unexpectedly, both of your removing your outer layers.

"Contacts?" he asked, looking straight into your eyes.

Confused, you could only muster a 'huh?"

"Your eyes," he grinned, but looked down as he removed his gloves. "Never seen any that blue. They match your scrubs perfectly so I thought, uh -" He struggled to find the words. "I mean. Uh, neverm-"

"Ha! Oh God no, these are heirlooms. All the women in my family have these eyes." you said, pulling your glasses onto your face from your pocket.

"Lucky girl! And the glasses aren't bad either" he said with a wink that devastated your morning.

"Hey..." you started, more serious. "Good job in there. You very much saved that mother and baby. They may never meet you and so they won't be able to thank you. So, I want to. Thankyou. Thanks for giving that mother a daughter, and for giving that baby a mother."

His eyes locked on yours in silence. His face coated in a gentle modesty, his cheeks flushed a little and in an instant he broke the stare, rubbing his neck with one hand gesturing around with the other. "Everyone played an important role, but thankyou".

"Take a compliment, my guy. You saved two lives today, at a minimum. Have a moment for yourself". You gave him a clap on the back as you walked off to take your patient to the NICU.

"DONT BE LATE WITH MY COFFEE! A BETS A BET!" you hollered as you walked away.

"I AM NEVER LATE" he returned loudly. You didn't look back to check, but somehow you knew he was watching.

---

Back up in the NICU, your new patient was stable. Better than stable, actually. As was her mama in ICU - you had called to check.

In a blink it was 8:30am. *Where's my coffee*, you laughed to yourself.

"Vanilla latte, number one. 8:30am on the dot". His smooth voice sent a shock to your belly, as you turned to see him leaning against the doorway.

"Now I KNOW damn right you're not bringing hot liquid into the NICU?! Minus two points for OH&S violation. Walk with me". He was stunned and a little wounded, but you couldn't let the rumour mill start by going soft on rules. You grabbed the coffee from his hand and let your team know you were heading on a break. He hurried to meet your strides. You found a quiet garden balcony and sat down on a vacant bench, tapping the empty wood next to you, signalling for Robby to sit.

"You really can't have coffee in the NICU?", he sounded concerned for the staff wellbeing more than anything.

You laughed, "seriously? Full thickness burns on a 1lb baby? How will that go? We're risk averse up here, unlike you cowboys" you gently nudged your shoulder to his, before noticing his empty hands. "You didn't get a coffee?"

"I've had enough hype for today", he said as he leant forward, elbows on his knees and hands rubbing his face.

"Are you alright?" you asked, gently.

"I don't know how you do it" he replied with a sigh.

"Do what?"

"Those tiny babies. Those tiny critical babies. Everything is so delicate and intense. How do you deal with their life, and with their death? It's an art and you're a master of it. But it's terrifying". His words warmed your heart and you let out a soft laugh.

"Sir, you deal with de-gloving, gunshot wounds, and adults who talk back at you. That last one? A solid nope for me. My job is a walk in the park." A moment of silence between you before you added "you did such an incredible job today, I hope you know that" and you sipped your latte with a content smile. Robby smiled kindly at you as he stood up.

"Listen. These lattes. I'm not sure I can hold up my end of the deal"

Your heart sunk, unexpectedly.

"I can't always escape the Pitt, especially at 8:30am. Can we alter the conditions?" And boom, your heart came back into its normal position.

"Hmmm." You thought for a second and noticed his zipped hoody with Pittsburg Penguins hockey team emblem. "How does scotch and watching the hockey at my place sound?"

Silence as he considered what you'd just asked. You suddenly felt very silly.

"I -" He looked around and then at his feet for a second. "Yeah" he paused, and continued, looking back at you, "Sounds good." He smiled. You grabbed your pen and then his arm. Touching his skin hitched your breath. And his. You scribbled your address, and cell number.

*817 West 81st Street. Apartment 6B*

"Puck drops at 9. Dont be late" you said with a wink as you left him speechless and walked back to work. "I told you, I'm never late", he yelled back.

You wanted to look back. You could feel his eyes on you. But you didn't give him the satisfaction. Not yet.

----

Robby entered the ER minutes later. "You look... relaxed". Dana said, with a sly look. "Was it the coffee or the NICU nurse?"

Robby looked over his glasses at Dana, warning but playing. "You know I don't drink coffee after 8am".

He carried on through the rest of his shift with nerves in his belly. He'd not felt something like this in a decade. He'd not touched a woman in equally as long. Not since...

His arm still tingled from the pressure of your handwriting. God it felt good when you grabbed him.

Moments of daydreaming were interrupted by the constant stream of trauma cases through the Pitts doors. Trauma for the patients and inevitably for the staff. But it was soon 8pm and Robby hurried his handover to Jack, eager to get home where he would quickly grab a small token for you before heading to your apartment.

8:50pm, your phone buzzes. Unknown number but, you know who it is and you're relieved to hear from him, After worrying all afternoon that he'd pike.

*Hey. It's Michael. I'll be there in 5. Just had to grab something from home :)*

Michael. You did see that on his work ID but he said to call him Robby. You wondered why it was suddenly Michael. The smiley face was cute though.

Three soft knocks, 5 minutes later. He was never late, after all.

You almost raced to the door, opening it to see a weary Robb-... Michael on the other side. "Hi! Come on in. I'll make you a drink!" you said happily as you planted a kiss on his cheek and slipped his backpack off his shoulder, placing it on your kitchen bench. You could hear his breath hitch in his throat when you kissed him. But you gave him little more, not wanting to scare him off.

"Take a load off", you pointed to the couch. But he headed toward you in the kitchen

"I bought you this. It's a pretty good read. I heard all NICU nurses love true crime" he said with a slight laugh.

He handed you a book about the worst mass shooting in Pittsburg history.

"Omg *LOVE* this! That's kind, thankyou! But, why do *YOU* have it?" You cocked one eyebrow and tilted your head. "Do you moonlight as a NICU nurse, Dr Robby?"

He smiled. "Call me Michael. I'm Dr Robby at work but this isn't work. And I got the book because I was involved in the aftermath, a decade ago. I wanted to try and understand it better."

"Did you? Understand it better?" You asked gently.

"Nope". He rubbed the back of his neck and walked to sit on the couch. You followed him closely, handing him a scotch and cola on the rocks.

He took a sip and sighed with his eyes closed, head tilted back. "Nectar of the Gods."

"Nothing but the best" you replied, clinking your glass to his before seating yourself close, but not *TOO* close.

"So how was the rest of your day?" you questioned, very curious but not wanting to pry too much.

"Don't ask" he said, as he rubbed his eyebrows and frowned.

"Okay. Do you want a hug?" you playfully stretched your arms out to him, 2 and a half feet separating you on the couch. He looked over to you, laughed softly but shook his head.

"I'm okay, thanks."

"Shoulder rub? You do look tense?" You shrugged toward him.

He stared gently at you for a moment, slowly nodding.

"Sure. Actually yeah, I could use one".

You swiftly moved to position yourself behind him, sitting on a stool behind the couch, full access to his neck and shoulders.

You placed one hand on each side and gave a firm squeeze before leaning your head close to him and softly murmuring "first ones free. Second will cost ya, Doc". Instantly, goosebumps appeared on his neck. You took that as a win.

"Well, you better make this one good if you want bank, nurse."

You laughed and started kneading into his broad shoulders, sadness pooling inside you at how tense his muscles were.

"You're really tight. When was the last time you stretched?" You said, fairly concerned.

"Oh I don't know, about 2008?" He jested. You laughed and with that, his shoulders dropped a little.

You kept massaging, feeling tiny hard knots beneath the firm surface of his broad shoulders.

"I don't know what they taught you in med school but I definitely took at least 2 anatomy classes and you've only got one back. One neck. You've gotta take care of them!", you kneeded into the space between his shoulder blades.

"Mmmhmm" he responded, you could see he was blissing out a bit now.

You stopped momentarily to grab the remote and turn the game on. But Michael kept his eyes closed when you continued to release the literal decade of tension.

"Feeling okay down there, sport?" You asked, unsure if he was dozing off.

"More than okay. Just on the quiet, I am actually really enjoying it. Don't tell anyone though, I've gotta keep my rough and tough reputation", he quipped.

"Oh that's cute. But you'll be the one telling everyone once I'm done with you. Hold onto your butt because this next move is a doozy!"

You moved your hands to his scalp, running firm pressure with splayed fingers from his crown down to his temples. He involuntarily groaned low. "Rough and tough huh?" You let out a breathy laugh as he relished in the sensations he was feeling. After a couple of minutes, you were feeling such deep satisfaction at how your touch was relaxing him. Your eyes caught his hands moving, as he reached for a pillow and placed it on his lap without a word.

Laughter erupted from you and he flinched. "I am SO sorry", you said, still laughing.

Michael leaned forward and put his head in his hands, shaking it side to side. He was flushed but gently laughing too.

You moved to the couch, again 2 and a half feet from Michael. You curled your legs in front of your body, facing him with a smirk on your face. "How was that first freebie then?" And you both burst into laughter for a long enough that your cheeks hurt and your eyes started to water.

-----

You were 15 minutes into the game when Michael cleared his throat.

"I -" he started talking but couldn't quite find the words. After a moment "where did you learn that?"

You shrugged. "the massage? I didn't. But human touch is really important for our nervous system to... de-stress I guess. It grounds us and helps us feel secure. Actually THAT part I learned from NICU. The little babes love feeling secure with gentle but firm touch. It's fantastic for their neuro development and even has cardiovascular benefits. Theres studies on it..." You trailed off.

"Thankyou" he said, his eyes soft and with so much appreciation. "Also, I wanted to thank you for today as well. I saw how you passed on your knowledge. You did a great job. Hell, I've learnt from you *TWICE* today. So. Thanks". His smile was sincere and so endearing.

"You're welcome", you leant forward and placed a palm on his bicep, touching him for just long enough that he looked briefly at your hand, and then desperately back into your eyes.

You egdged closer to him, the cool spot on the leather couch between you now changing with your warmth. His eyes never left yours, but yours were darting between his lips, his freckles and that god-like Beard that framed his jaw so perfectly. This man was it. You found his beautiful eyes again and saw something unsure in them.

"Is this too much?" You ask, a little scared of his response, and only 2 inches from his face.

"I - it's - ". He sighed and looked down to his hands. "It's been a... it's been a very long time and I -"

"Hey". You stopped him. "It's okay. We don't have to do anything. I'm so fine with sitting her with our drinks watching the game, if you don't want -"

He stopped you, with a hand on yours. "I do. I do want this. I've wanted this since 8:30am. It's all I've thought about actually - you're quite distracting you know" he laughed softly. "I'm just. I don't want to disappoint you. It's been so long and -"

You cupped your hand to his cheek and gently bought your lips to his for the slightest of contact. "It's fine. You set the pace. We can do nothing or we can do everything, or we can do something in between. I just like being around you. You're fun and interesting and mysterious, and also moderately to severely distracting, yada yada yada". He laughed, pulling your attention to those deep smile lines framing his eyes. You wondered what lengths you'd go to, to see his eyes smile like that. Heat filled your cheeks.

A few moments passed, just looking into each other's eyes. His brain and his heart having a silent conversation behind the scenes. They must have come to an agreement because he gently placed his hand behind your head and pulled you in for a deep, gentle kiss. You melted in his grip, taking in every part of this experience. His scent, the way he was so measured and precise with every touch and every movement. He leaned toward you and with his other hand behind the small of your back, he hitched you onto his lap, facing him, straddling him. You kissed him a while longer. He was so respectful yet so urgent in how his lips claimed yours. Your hands tangled through his hair, pulling him closer even though no more room existed between you.

Breathless, you both stopped for a moment for air.

Suddenly you were aware of how you were dressed. An oversized band t-shirt, gym shorts and long white socks. Hair in a messy bun, high on your head but lopsided from his hands loosening it.

Michael was still in his scrubs, with his hoody over the top. You looked down at your clothing, and then at his.

"What is it?" He asked, unsure of himself.

You let out a small laugh. "We only met today. You're here in your scrubs and I'm here in my housework clothes. It feels like weve known each other a lot longer right?"

"This is how you dress for cleaning?" He gave your ass a tight squeeze which make you lightly squeal with delight. "Lucky house!" And he pulled you in for another round of kissing. Your hands explored his chest this time. You unzipped his hoody to give you more access.

"We can ditch the clothes all together if you like?" You offered, voice sultry.

"If that's what you want, I want it too", he said into your neck, his breath warm and his beard grazing your pulse points with the peppering of kisses.

You pushed his hoodie off and wrapped your arms around his neck. He must have got the memo because in one swift action he grabbed your thighs and lifted you up with him as he stood from the couch.

"Bedroom?" He questioned as you wrapped your legs tightly around his waist.

"Hallway. On right. Second room" you replied, between kisses.

Like a man called to duty, he strode down the hall to find your bedroom, smiling warmly at how comfortable and cosy it looked from the threshold. He carried you to the bed where he laid you back ever so gently, holding your head, looking in your eyes for any hint that it was still okay to keep going.

"Kiss me?" You questioned him, but almost rhetorically as he answered immediately with his lips meeting yours as your ankles crossed behind his waist.

The sound of the TV in the living room melted away as your senses were overwhelmed by everything happening in your bedroom. His scent, masculine and earthy. His breath warmly coating anywhere blessed to have it near. The weight of his strong body on your pelvis, and the gentle rhythmic rocking against you; a heated reflex neither of you had control of. He rolled slightly to the side, his hand finding them hem of your tshirt. You approved access to your skin with a light wimper into his ear as he peppered your neck with soft kisses. His beard scraping along the lines of your neck was intensifying the glow burning in your belly. Your hips instinctively bucking up to close the space between your core and his now bulging manhood.

So gentle and yet so electrifying, his hand ghosted up your torso, thumbs stroking your ribs until he was met with the obstacle of your bra. His hand firmly grabbed your breast and you hummed at the feeling.

His breathing became heavy, but still measured and still in total control of himself.

He lifted his head, lips meeting yours briefly before pulling back. Something unspoken in his eyes, a guarded uncertainty wrapped in insecurity. This man will ruin you, you thought to yourself. In the most delicious way.

"Everything okay?" You asked, stroking his temple with your thumb.

He paused, gained courage and just said it, his forehead pressed against yours. "I need to know what you like. What works. I need you to tell me what feels good and what doesn't. I have to do this right." You're weak for this man by this point. Entirely gone. But you can't show it yet. You craved him needing you, chasing you, wanting you.

"Michael," You started, speaking gently. "Yknow what? Give me your hand." He looks at you confused but you grab his hand, kiss the back of it, and glide it down to your waistband. And under. And between. You were soaked, and he could literally *feel* it. "You're doing great, it - this - feels amazing, see?".

His face softened, encouraged but hungrier now. You then grabbed at his bulge. It twitches in you hand and he catches his breath. "So get out of your head, and get inside me..." you whispered, needing him.

And that pep talk was all he needed. His fingers slowly parted you, his mouth on yours with excruciating heat. His thumb found your clit expertly, light pressure and slow circles and the coil started to tighten. One finger, gently in, and painfully slow out, as it curled to hit the spot just right.

You hummed into his kiss. "That feels so good". A few repeats and he inserted a second finger, eliciting a moan from you as your body electrified with his touch. He picked up the pace in response to your cues; your hips pushing into his hand and your breathing pattern becoming erratic. Your body was on fire in the most exhilarating way and it was only getting better. Hotter. Stronger.

"Mmmm. Keep going". He let out an appreciative groan at your request, increasing the tempo and applying just enough pressure to your bundle that you started seeing stars.

"Michael!" His name on your lips in that moment of heat made him desperate to see you unravel at his touch.

He finally spoke. *Finally*. His low, gruff voice in your ear. His breath hot against you. "Mmm come on, baby. Let go."

Your walls clenched around his large fingers and shuddered over and over, bringing your entire body along for the ride as you climaxed onto him. He maintained a little less pressure on your clit and soothed you through the aftershocks with kisses and his own groans at watching you come undone.

When you opened your eyes, he was looking at your in a way you'd never felt before. Adoringly. A broken man finding solace in the warmth of you. Your heart skipped, maybe it even stopped for a short while, you couldn't tell and it didn't matter because nothing else existed in that moment but his eyes on you. Totally, 100% gone for this man.

You were both silent. Nothing needed to be said right then. You gently pushed his shoulder so that he flipped onto his back, and you straddled him. You grabbed a fist full of his scrubs and pulled him up to meet your face, his hands briefly holding onto your waist as he kissed you. Gently pushing him away, you pulled his scrub top off, revealing the skin you'd so desperately needed to touch. He returned the favour, silently and gently removing your tshirt. Michael unclipped your bra with ease, discarding it to the floor but his eyes never left yours. You grabbed his hands and rested them on your breasts, giving him permission to explore.

His eyes closed gently as he cupped and grazed one breast in his hands, silently banking the sensation of your soft skin into his memory. He took the other nipple into his mouth, letting out a satisfied grunt at the breech. He flicked it with his tongue and it ignited you again as your hips started to grind him; he was rewarded with a slight yell when his teeth grazed over the bud. He opened his eyes to look up at you. He needed you to come again. He needed you, period.

Wrapping an arm around your waist, he flipped you swiftly but incredibly gently onto your back. Your shorts and panties were off in an instant, this man was not wasting time. You silently helped him out of his own, and you were greeted by his throbbing, desperate cock.

You grasped it in your hand, giving him three welcoming strokes before he had to stop you. "That feels good. Too good right now. I need just one more from you, okay?". You nodded through your lashes. "Good girl" he kissed your lips and lined himself up at your entrance. He closed his eyes, almost as if he was dissociating, and pushed gently into you. You gasped at the sudden fullness. He gave you a moment to adjust to his tip. "You good?" You offered a trembled 'uhhuh' in response and he took that as his green light. It took a full minute for you to accept all of him, and it felt incredible. You ghosted your hands up his spine and tangled your fingers in his hair. He let out a stifled moan, clearly trying to hold himself back. He pulled out slowly, hitting the spot that makes you giddy on the way out. And pushed back in again, his breath hitching in his throat.

He steadied himself again, trying to hold back. "You feel -" he said, almost in prayer, "fucking incredible -" and paused once more, "I don't know if I can -".

You stopped him with a hush, stretched to peak pleasure around him. One of your hands found its way down to your bundle and he watched intently under the dim light cast upon you from the hallway. Watching you writhe beneath him by your own hand while he was inside you, ignited something primal in the man and his focus had never been more intense. He placed one hand behind your neck to tether you, and lifted his body with the other so he could watch you; taking in the sight like it was now his Roman Empire.

He pushed you deep into the mattress with controlled precision and power, beads of sweat forming at his temple and an increasingly strained but glorious look on his face. He buried his head into your neck, picking up the tempo. You moaned and gasped in rhythm with his hips; he let out a handful of expletives in response.

Your fingers working lazily at your core, doing very little because this main was absolutely claiming you on his own. But he was enjoying what you were doing, and you wanted to please him.

Your brain was about to shut down with the snapping of your coil and you warned him "Michael -". The sound of his name on your lips, rewarded with sudden, ragged breathing. You felt him start to twitch at the same time your walls started to clench. "Michael! Oh my God I'm- ". He spilled bare into your heat and rocked you with steady and strong thrusts as you rode out the orgasm together, his head buried in your neck.

He stayed there, catching his breath while your exhausted body relaxed into the mattress. His weight on top of you was grounding, providing a security you didn't know you needed. And now you wanted it forever.

After some time, his head lifted to meet you with a gentle and thankful kiss. He rolled onto his back and you scooted off to the toilet. You turned to look at him this time, rewarding him with a smirk as you catch him staring at your ass. He had one hand behind his head, a content smile and looked absolutely wrecked.

You climbed back into bed and curled into his shoulder, his arm instinctively around your waist, tracing soft lines along your stomach.

"You working tomorrow?" He asked.

"No. 4 off. You?" You nuzzled into his beard and noticed just how incredible he smells.

"4 off too." He said quietly.

After just a minute, you got the courage to ask, "stay?".

His hand stilled on your stomach and he looked down at you looking up at him.

"If that's what you want, I want it too"

Your heart filled with a warmth you didn't know was possible. You were absolutely gone. This is him. This is the guy.

He interrupted your daydreaming with "but I've gotta get up early tomorrow. And the next three days".

You looked at him, puzzled and curious.

He smiled. "Jumbo Vanilla latte. 8:30am sharp."

You kissed him and smiled. "Don't be late"

"I'm never late." as he kissed you back, eyes heavy with contentedness and something deeper, too.

You fell into the most blissful slumber; your last recollection being the circles drawn on your stomach with his fingers. It was only once you fell asleep, that he allowed sleep to find him too. You were his. And he was healing. Better late than never.

#the pitt #dr robby #dr robinavitch #smut #noah wyle #michael robinavitch #michael robinavich x reader #dr robby x reader #dr robinavitch x reader

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psuedofolio · 2 years ago

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Last week on my character a day thread was more "Magical Girl SCP" characters and I'm realizing I didn't share the pictures from the last time I brought out the psudo scp universe characters so here they are. I'll make the whole story someday. Lore/flavor text is as follows: 1: Fairbanks would often have to insist Isabelle stop skipping her small arms training. She rarely said it, but she was very fond of the junior researcher. And she knew just how unsafe the SAFE Research Department could be.

2: Fairbanks' Notes on the Vampire, "Drymouth."

After 21 days without feeding, she will enter a state of altered consciousness and will speak true prophecies. The Board believes it is worth the ethical costs of starving her. I believe she uses her prophecies to guide us to our destruction.

3: Partial Transcript: Tattoo Parlor, 3:25 PM

Subject X66: "I'm still kinda nervous about the pain, ya know. I'm sure you get that a lot."

Witness: "I... what is... Is that a body mod?"

Subject X66: "What are you talking about?"

Witness: "Holy fuck it moved!"

4: Codename Sunshine is the first entity to take a role in DIR Fairbank's "Special Taskforce." Though the Director believes she is wholly reliable and a potential asset for our field agents, many are skeptical. Her ability to "transmute light into burning liquid" is quote: "Scary AF."

5: Agent Nathan Collier returned to work with REDACTED three months after the incident with Valeria's escape. His personal heroism in subduing the entity aside, it was decided he was unfit for field work. Instead he was reassigned to the SAFE Department on so called "babysitting duty."

6: Ben died a few years ago in an unrelated accident, but ever since then what appears to be his "ghost" continues to check the halls for anomalous readings. Once we calibrated his scanner to account for his own emanations, he returned to being a valued member of *redacted*

7: What limited things we do know is REDACTED's body is made of particles which "absorb" em waves of all kinds, from light to radio. Though REDACTED manages to bypass nearly every security measure we have, they have no connections or intentions that qualify as a threat.

8: Contrary to popular belief, Franklin is NOT an anomalous entity. He is merely a holdover from REDACTED before it became REDACTED. His "good humor and fatherly advice" has often made agents question his true nature. And security monitors him as agents often confide secrets with him.

(ooc note, it was about an hour after drawing this that I realized I basically just drew Clint McElroy)

9: Frm: Dir Fairbanks The girl in our care is not to be referred to as "anomaly" or "spider thing" or by her case number. She has come to us willingly. Her name is Penelope, and but for her anomalous mutations is a normal child. We will provide her normalcy. That is an order.

#magical girl scp #psu scp #oc #oc characters #character deisgn #scp #horror #scp oc

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oddygaul · 2 months ago

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the REDLINE manifesto

In honor of my second DIY screening of Redline, here is, at long last, a prettied-up version of my most popular reddit post, an unabashed love letter to my favorite movie. Most of this is probably less groundbreaking than it was when I first posted it a decade(!) ago, but whatever, the internet needs more Redline content anyway.

REDLINE Trivia

–JP stands for Joshua Punkhead, and in the very first draft he had 26 children and raced to pay off his child support. Also, the catchy moniker ‘Sweet JP’? English-only… the original Japanese gets the mouthful ‘very sweet weaponless prince’.

–You'd be hard-pressed to tell without looking into the lore a bit, but Miki & Todoroki are damn near the only actual humans in the movie; everyone else is some species of alien. Some are obvious, like Shinkai (Oceanic/Chikulun hybrid) and Trava (Anista tribe), but even the most human-like characters are some other race. Sonoshee, for example, is listed as being half human, half Oceanic tribe (海洋族).

The most curious case, though, is JP. While it'd be easy to assume he's human, there's a lot of details that don't add up: his unique elf ears, his super-lanky-even-for-a-Koike-character-design physique, the fact that his race is conspicuously redacted on his bail sheet… and his seeming immunity to death. Seriously, bro crashes every single thing he drives in the whole movie, then emerges unscathed with just a fiery flash of the eyes – that ain’t normal. If I had to wildly speculate, and I do, I’d put money that he’s somehow linked to Mikuru and the Giant species, as seen in Trava: Fist Planet. The physique matches, the Giants have displayed some preternatural healing abilities, and Trava lays the groundwork for a few other threads in Redline (namely, the existence of bioweapons and Shinkai & Trava’s past military experience), so there’s precedence. Maybe one day we’ll find out for sure…

–We all know and love Funky Boy thanks to the Roboworld president’s endless tirades. But the giant data-motivated crocodile monster Volton fuses with to engage Funky Boy in thrilling combat? She is a lady, and her name is Wire Girl.

–All of Redline’s vehicle and mechanical designs are nuts – they’re insanely complicated and filled with organic curves and details. Despite the immense difficulty of keeping such complex designs consistent, every mechanical shot is hand-drawn, without the aid of any CG. To help the animators stay on-target while drawing, the team made some sweet-ass production models for them to reference. What I wouldn’t give to own one of these…

–Before deciding on Redline being a film, writer Katsuhito Ishii and director Takeshi Koike considered making a TV series. Initial writers’ meetings saw the team fleshing out a comprehensive story bible about the setting: it included not only a wide-scope view of the universe and its history, but also detailed backstories for each racer. Even after deciding to make a feature film, Redline’s initial script gave each racer as much time and focus as the final cut gives to JP & Sonoshee; all of this was, unfortunately, cut for time. According to Ishii, though, much of this ancillary information made it into the novelization…

one day my Japanese will be good enough to read you ;_;

–Confused about why the movie ends with that sparkly, PowerPoint-ass ~LOVE~? Well, you shouldn’t be – Redline is ‘unabashedly dumb’, after all, per Ishii – but there is a little context. Over the course of the movie’s 7-year production, Koike and Yukiko (a producer on the film) fell in love, tying the knot in Switzerland just before Redline’s world premiere. If that doesn’t justify the ending for you, I don’t know what could.

–This isn't trivia but idk where else to put this stupid-ass Lynchman meme I made

Subtext you may have missed on first watch

–Machine Head is Sonoshee's estranged father?!

Crazy, I know, but hear me out.

First of all, Redline unambiguously shows the viewer that Sonoshee and Machine Head have some sort of pre-existing relationship, the nature of which isn’t explicitly clarified.

At the Oasis restaurant, Sonoshee tells JP she's waiting for someone; it may sound like she's simply brushing him off, but the moment Machine Head enters the scene, Sonoshee perks up and waves to him. When the Crab Sonoshee is flipped by missile fire during the Redline race, we get exactly two (2) Dramatic Anime Freezeframes: JP and Machine Head, implying those two, out of everyone, care the most about Sonoshee. During the final stretch of the race, as Machine Head prepares to pop his steamlight, he is not only aware that Sonoshee also has one, he taunts her about it:

“I see you still have your steamlight – got the guts to use it this time?”

JP even draws attention to the fact that Sonoshee’s looks identical to Tetsujin’s. Finally, though this is certainly ancillary, it is interesting to note that the exact moment Godwing loses its structural stability is right after JP declares he’s going to win because he, not Machine Head, has Sonoshee at his side.

So let’s line this up with what backstory we definitively know. As stated above, Sonoshee is a human / Oceanic hybrid; Machine Head, though his body has been modified beyond recognition, is referred to the same way. While talking to JP about the steamlight, Sonoshee says her father is the one that gave it to her, then describes him as a skilled racer who ran a junk joint. In that same conversation, when JP suggests she’s too focused on racing at the expense of personal relationships, she bristles and tries to end the conversation. During the flashback of young Sonoshee racing, her reaction to crashing is intense: she’s clearly holding herself to a higher standard, and is already dead set on racing in the Redline someday.

Now, there’s other plausible explanations for all this; maybe there’s just a romantic entanglement between Sonoshee and Machine Head, with JP barging in as the third vertex of a love triangle. But is that the most likely scenario for two people constantly characterized as putting racing before any personal matters?

No, I think Machine Head is Sonoshee’s father.

Picture it: Machine Head raised Sonoshee at his junk joint, so she grew up around racing and car modification. After seeing success on the circuits, Machine Head stopped being content with mere victory, and started spending all his time and energy modifying his body, pushing himself farther and farther. Sonoshee, feeling neglected and cast aside, turned to racing, seeing it as the only way to get her father’s attention. This lead to her perfectionism complex; if she’s not the very best, why would the King of Kings ever look her way?

Anyway, while it’s not confirmed in the text, I think there’s so many hints it might as well be. It makes JP and Sonoshee’s romance a lot more interesting, too. Their arc isn’t just two people falling in love, it’s about Sonoshee moving past the trauma of her father’s emotional abandonment and opening up to someone new. After JP explains his match fixing history in the climax, Sonoshee isn’t placated because he told the truth, she’s fired up seeing the strength of JP and Frisbee’s friendship: she sees the folly of chasing approval from her absent father, and that she could instead be forming bonds with friends who support her unconditionally. She can race for herself.

Koike and Ishii said Redline is about adult friendships, after all!

pictured: the most romantic kiss in cinema history

–The Redline race is, in fact, underhanded political maneuvering

Now, this one is sorta just The Plot Of The Movie, but I feel like there’s so much going on in Redline people often don’t connect these dots.

We all laugh at the Roboworld president’s hammy word salad:

“I wonder if this might be some kind of ploy by our enemies to infiltrate our borders. If that’s true, do you realize Roboworld’s military secrets could be at risk here? We’d be exposed!!”

…but he’s… kinda right, though?

At the time of the movie, the M3 Nebula has just emerged from two devastating interplanetary wars. The galaxy’s superpowers are under a tenuous peace agreement – one of the most important stipulations of which is a ban on the use and development of “bioweapons”, which in the Redline universe are less ‘weaponized bacterial strains’ and more ‘gargantuan synthetic monsters that can be deployed to wreak unthinkable destruction’. Despite this ban, the government of Roboworld has been continuing with bioweapon development unabated… and not only does Planet Supergrass seem to be aware of these violations, it really seems like they’re leveraging all their soft power to expose them.

Now, we know Supergrass is generally involved with the Redline final. As a member of the Redline Committee, they have a reason to be involved; they’re helping out with nuts & bolts logistical stuff, like transporting the racers to the course and prepping the finish line. But when you consider the significant, tangible political blows dealt to Roboworld by the race – Funky Boy and Wire Girl’s presumed destruction, Roboworld’s violation of the bioweapon treaty being broadly exposed to the public, the decimation of Roboworld’s military – the long string of coincidences that got us to that point start to seem a little suspicious.

Who pushed for the Redline final to be held on such a hostile planet? Who knew about Roboworld’s experimental orbital laser cannon – a project so tightly under wraps even their president only learns about it during the race – and hired contractors to sabotage it? Who organized a group of malcontents to attack both Roboworld’s power relay station and Funky Boy’s containment creche, right when such disruptions would be the most impactful? And who decided the race’s crucial middle stretch should go right over the restricted military zone housing said creche?

Supergrass has the motive and the means – plus, the race is already illegal, so what can Roboworld do, sue them about it? No sir, that Princess is on some subterfuge shit, and Secretary Titan, that shady fuck, is her inside man. And you can take that to the bank.

Craving more REDLINE?

Unfortunately, due to the movie’s commercial failure, there’s not much else in the franchise. The Redline production pilot is fucking sick, though, and there’s Trava: Fist Planet, an OVA by Koike & Ishii that predates Redline and focuses on Trava and Shinkai’s misadventures. While Trava never got the continuation it deserved, they did make a trailer for season 2... ahh, what could have been.

youtube

If you’re just after more of Takeshi Koike’s mind-blowing animation, there’s only a scant few projects in his trademark black-filled style. His most well-known work is probably the Samurai Champloo OP, or maybe World Record from The Animatrix (can’t find a link for that one, but y’know, do your thing). Koike also contributed animation to two other Ishii films: an extended intro for Party 7, and this aggressively horny dance sequence for Funky Forest. Back at Madhouse, it seems the studio liked to use Koike as a bait-and-switch, letting him direct lavish production pilots to secure adaptation rights then switching the staff up for the full production. Feels kind of scummy, but we got the immense Afro Samurai Pilot and Iron Man Pilot out of it. Finally, he made the series of Love shorts for SMAPxSMAP, the SMAP variety show, which are as dope as they are low-res.

dailymotion

I really wanna know if Koike was the one ballin out to CYNE and Gang Starr for this

—

And finally, as I threatened in my last post about Redline: let’s talk thematic depth.

~Thematic Depth~

In conversations online, Redline is often given this caveat of just being ‘eye candy’, or hit with the classic ‘style over substance’ cliche. Now, the phrase ‘style over substance’ has always bothered me, generally – it feels like it comes from folks who have never tried to make art before, who make light of the painstaking work and dedication that goes into creating anything – but it particularly frustrates me in animation. The process of animation is such an absurd, masochistic timesink that it’s a wonder anything ever gets finished at all; something this ambitious being finished, with this level of consistency and polish, is nothing short of a miracle, and to simply call that ‘style’ massively undervalues the whole endeavor.

Because, make no mistake, Redline is ambitious as hell from a visual standpoint. The consistent focus on kinetic motion and speed, buoyed by Koike’s masterful use of exaggerated perspective, spatial distortion, and dynamic camera work; lots of moving, hand-drawn backgrounds instead of matte pans; lively crowd animation in most scenes; remarkably expressive, constant character animation that imbues personality to every character and never settles for industry standard lip flap dialogue… and all of this using incredibly complex character & mechanical designs, many of which feature distinct alien physiology, and a rendering style with bold, detailed shadows that would be more at home in illustration than animation. It is truly a singular work.

And the thing is, that wild ambition and unfailing dedication to the craft is the message.

The very first moments of Redline, before we see a single car or alien, are a brief series of title cards. I think most first-time viewers, and even many repeat viewers, immediately forget these words seconds after reading them due to the famously high-octane opening act. They read:

“In the far distant future, when cars are giving up their wheels in the changeover to air-cars, there still exist stubborn fools who carry on a vanishing spirit of racing…”

It’s easy to pass over this narration because, well, Redline simply isn’t about this conflict. We don’t see a single air-car racer, and there is no on-screen depiction of this purported old-school / new-school racing divide. So why is it here?

Because it’s the thesis of the whole damn project. Redline is about a group of old-school animation industry vets coming to terms with a changed industry that doesn’t support the type of art they want to create anymore, and their determination to pour their hearts into one last, stupid, beautiful swan song.

Madhouse was founded in 1972 by a group of ex-Mushi Pro staff, including Masao Maruyama and Yoshiaki Kawajiri. A response to Mushi Pro’s shoestring budgets and spartan timelines, the goal of studio Madhouse was to create production schedules where animators could flourish, rather than choosing the cheaper route; as Maruyama puts it, their mission statement was to ‘create animation other people aren’t interested in creating’. And, well, for decades, that’s what they did – Madhouse consistently gave a platform to idiosyncratic creators and produced incredible results. Their film canon includes pivotal productions like Kawajiri’s Ninja Scroll and Vampire Hunter D Bloodlust, Rintaro’s Metropolis, every single Satoshi Kon production from Perfect Blue to Paprika, and The Girl Who Leapt Through Time, the film that launched Mamoru Hosoda into stardom. While their TV output might be seen as more workmanlike, they were still dedicated to creating original stories. For example, despite his proven track record, Masaaki Yuasa was unable to secure funding and creative freedom anywhere else but Madhouse, with whom he produced Kemonozume, Kaiba, and The Tatami Galaxy prior to the establishment of Science Saru.

Takeshi Koike’s formative years as an animator were during this golden era of Madhouse. Poached directly out of high school by Yoshiaki Kawajiri himself, Koike was taken under his wing – his first job as a professional animator was inbetweening for Wicked City, and he’d moved up to key animation roles just one year later. I think Kawajiri’s intent was for Koike to be his protege; in this boom era of animation, with high-budget feature films and OVAs as the de facto standard, creative vision and a unique style is what you’d look for in an up-and-coming director, and Koike had both of these in spades. For a time, this pathway seemed almost assured; Koike’s big-league directing debut on The Animatrix produced one of its most well-received shorts, even amidst an anthology stacked with superstar creative talent.

Unfortunately, the turn of the millennium brought a lot of change for Madhouse and the industry at large. Budgets shrank, and production schedules started trending towards today’s unsustainable nightmare grind. CGI became ubiquitous not for the unique shots and compositions it allows for, but as a corner-cutting method for complicated actors like vehicles or mechas. A certain homogeneity and tendency toward ‘safe’, appealing designs and premises took hold; what good is your off-the-wall, creative worldbuilding idea when the anime industry revolves around merch sales, and generic moe waifus are outselling your original IP ten-to-one? All these industry vets could see the writing on the wall: animation would survive, but things were changing, and the ideals they’d founded their studio around were becoming untenable.

So I genuinely believe Redline is a parting shot from the old guard, a celebration of the era of the industry they cut their teeth on, one last lush, extravagant farewell before they passed the torch to the next generation. Maybe not from the start, sure, but after years of troubled development, progressing slowly due to the team’s meticulous vision, I think they rallied around the cause, dead set on making a masterwork, no matter what. Just look at the talent they attracted, the staff list reads like a best-of: Shinya Ohira, Hiroyuki Imaishi, Sushio, Yoshiaki Kawajiri, Sayo Yamamoto, Katsuya Yamada, Takafumi Hori.

And that’s where we come back to that opening message, about those stubborn fools. Suddenly, that movie chock-full of characters putting everything on the line for their passions feels a lot more personal. Koike is JP, the traditional [animation / racing ] purist who’s become an anachronism and just wants to be able to do things his way; Kawajiri as the God of Racing, who JP’s looked up to since he was younger, giving him one last thumbs as he achieves his goals; and Maruyama as Frisbee, putting his livelihood in danger to buy his team the time and money they need for one last gig, who wants to see his friend finish the damn thing on his own terms, just this once.

In a way, it makes it heartbreaking that Redline performed financially as poorly as it did; Japan’s frosty reception to the movie is at such odds with the fervor of its creators. But you know what? Redline exists, and it exists without compromises. They did what they set out to do. They made it across that finish line.

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#will's media thoughts / virtual brain repository #redline #redline anime #takeshi koike #madhouse #long post #anime #redline 2009 #movies

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