#words in conversations are just taken out in my memory. or it adds things that werent there to fill in the blanks.

[hyper-cryptic]

Something about memory and dissociation and stuff.

[milksnake-tea]

✩ CHAPTER SUMMARY : Sunday (unwillingly) engages in his first acts of crime on the Planet of Indulgence.

✩ SERIES SYNOPSIS : Following the catastrophe of the Charmony Festival, rather than in one of Penacony's hospitals or prisons, Sunday awakens right in the base of one of the most notorious criminals in the galaxies. With nowhere else to go, he's left to follow you, the Stellaron Hunters' medic, in his attempts to become accustomed to his new life.

✩ WORD COUNT : 5.76k

✩ TAGLIST : @vynicity , @vxnuslogy , @https-mika @greyrain23 , @red-ninja15, @arienic , @immahuman , @sund4ykisser , @mysteriaqueen , @kiopanxp , @isa-l0v3r , @hesper-houkai-kat , @gamekillera , @nayukiyukihira , @randomidk-123 , @universetrash , @forevernyeong , @thedepartedcryptid , @heyhazelnut101 , @1000-leaves , @lowkeyren , @zhayur , @jellofishuu , @kascar-chronicle , @azaleaflowerr , @neigee , @fallintothechasm , @veritusratio , @astolary , @xphantasmagoriax , @semi-orangeapple , @ezra1yn , @xynthevoid , @apinu , @crysangria , @shenwi (send me an ask off anon if you want to be added !! please specify that it’s for this series)

✩ ADDITIONAL NOTES : do you know how long i wanted to use this chapter title. it was supposed to be for chapter two but GRGGRRGGR anyways it's here now !!! this is definitely my favorite chapter to write so far, it is JUICY so have fun guys !!!

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Euphrosyne is a planet bathed in violet. 

The second you step into one of the many overcrowded streets, the color invades your vision. Just about everything is bathed in this vivid purple-pinkish haze like a filter. Conversation flows almost as quickly as money does, and the sky and the stars are replaced with billboards and advertisements displaying the next big thing.

What you like about economic metropolises like these is that no one bats you an eye. They’re all too busy running to snatch the latest trending product before anyone else does. Here, it’s everyone for themselves, and being a second too late could be the difference between life and death.

“Keep up, princess,” you call over your shoulder. “Would be a shame to lose you so soon.”

You adjust your baseball cap onto your head to make sure it doesn’t get swept away by the crowd. Behind you, you hear Sunday maneuvering his way through dozens before he’s able to break free and catch up to you. He shakes his head, his wing feathers ruffled in irritation.

“I never thought I’d see a planet worse than Penacony,” Sunday mutters distastefully. He swiftly pats down his shoulder where someone had bumped into him. “No one here seems to know what basic manners are.”

“That’s high-end capitalism for you,” you laughed. “Everyone thinks they’re the center of the universe.”

You keep your eyes on the sky; looking forward will get you nowhere. But up there, that’s where you can find direction. There, there are the neon lights, the flashing signs of luxury cars, the skyscrapers that are only accompanied by the monorail that stretches throughout the planet.

It doesn’t take long before you find your target. Among the neon buildings and flashing billboards, an ivory tower shines like a diamond in the rough, a refined royal in the midst of puffed-up nobles. Its crown is made up of large, golden letters with a glow that can rival suns.

Many, many years ago, when you’d first joined the Hunters, Kafka had taken you to a similar store - same company, different branch, different star system. You weren’t like Sunday, who was starting anew, but she had insisted you at least get a new coat. That new coat ended up turning into three, with an add-on of five pairs of shoes and the entire sunglasses section.

A small smile slips onto your face at the memory. It’s been a while since you’d last hung out with Kafka. You should invite her out again sometime.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts by Sunday’s sharp intake of breath. His eye twitches as he’s once again pushed by some upper-class passerby.

Smiling sympathetically, you offer your wrist to him. “Here, hold onto me.”

He contemplates your offer for a total of five seconds before someone barrels past him again. Irritation flashes over his face like lightning and his halo begins to glow threateningly.

Before Sunday can commit his first murder in broad daylight, you reach out and grab his wrist so you can tug him behind you.

“Why isn’t anyone bumping against you?” Sunday complains, although relief from no longer being tossed around like a ragdoll bleeds through.

“No idea,” you reply, checking to make sure his halo has cooled down, which it has. “Maybe they just know their place.”

“Of course.” 

You feel Sunday’s hand flex under your hold on him, but he makes no move to shove you off him. Apparently, he finds you to be more bearable than the crowd - although that isn’t exactly a difficult feat.

“Don’t worry, you’ll only have to bear with this for a little longer. We’re almost there.” As you finish speaking, you pick up the pace, skillfully slipping through the sea of people with Sunday following close behind.

Windows upon windows of mannequins adorned in designer clothing greet you when you finally arrive at the twelve-floor mall. Despite the brand’s renown, there’s no line to get in; instead, there are bouncers who scan you up and down to make sure you’re a customer, not a thief.

They scrutinize you and Sunday as you stroll in, but one look at your attire and Sunday’s perfect posture and they nod approvingly, stepping aside. You smirk a little at how easily they let you pass - prejudice’s a bitch, but when it works in your favor, you certainly don’t complain.

The doors open like gates to heaven with a whoosh. Workers dressed in suits and ties bow and greet you as you enter. Their smiles are almost as fake as Sunday’s; it’s actually impressive.

“Welcome,” they speak in one, pleasant chorus that oozes with customer service training. “How may we help you today?”

You speed past them, heading straight for the elevators. The workers’ smiles didn’t move at your behavior, in fact, you’d wager they were relieved you didn’t start yapping away at them. You hear the chorus bid you farewell as you tug Sunday into one of the many glass elevators, joining other well-dressed clients.

In some planets, the wealthy were as powerful as gods, and the tower made sure to emphasize that. Ascending the floors, watching the workers shrink and shrink until they were nothing more than insignificant ants, you wonder if this is how the Aeons felt upon ascending. 

But then you remember that Aeons were unfeeling, neutral entities who probably regarded mortal lives as having even less value than insects.

“Say,” Sunday says suddenly. You shuffle closer to him in order to hear him over the other patrons. “Weren’t you supposed to be getting breakfast?”

You blink. Oh, right. That completely slipped your mind.

“I’ll get it later,” you shrug it off.

“It isn’t good to work on an empty stomach,” Sunday chides you exasperatingly. A grin slides onto your face.

“Aw, are you worried about me?” you coo, batting your eyelashes teasingly. “Don’t worry, I don’t plan on drinking anytime soon.”

“That’s not-” Sunday sighs and shakes his head, pointedly turning away from you. You chuckle, sneaking a peek at the displayed floor number at the top of the elevator. Two more floors to go.

When you finally leave the elevator, you’re greeted with what is essentially a palace. Much like its exterior, the interior is layered with marble floors, chandeliers, and reeks of wealth. 

Suits and tuxedos of various colors line one side of the room, ranging from a distinguished black to a bold neon pink for those who like to stand out. The other side presents more casual wear, with comfortable shirts and pants that look simple but cost more than an average IPC member’s salary.

But what made all of them special, other than their superior quality and outrageous prices, were the open backs and windows that allowed for wings, claws, or any other limbs that may need freedom to move.

“You asked about your wings,” you explained to a befuddled Sunday, “and like I said, it’ll be tough to get them back to how they used to be. But it isn’t impossible.”

You stride over to the fancier side of the floor and pluck out a backless high-collared blouse.

“First step is letting them breathe.”

You hold the blouse out in front of Sunday in order to picture how it’d look on him. The darker colors highlight his feather-like hair and golden eyes, and the style fits. Nodding in approval, you turn it around to show Sunday.

“What do you think?”

Sunday’s ichor-filled eyes take on a more calculating gleam as he takes the blouse in his hands. 

“It isn’t terrible,” he admits begrudgingly. “Although the color is different to what I’m used to wearing.”

You stare at the navy dress shirt he has on. “Is that right?”

Sunday rolls his eyes, his wings flapping a few times in annoyance. “Blade’s color palette doesn’t exactly match my personal preferences, I’ll have you know.”

You chuckle. “Alright, alright. Well, we have an entire floor to choose from. Pick out what you like, and I’ll go see if I can find anything for you.”

You move to put the blouse back, only to stop when Sunday drapes the blouse over his arm. He raises a brow at you as if daring you to question him. Raising your hands in surrender, you head off to find him an oversized hoodie because everyone needs an oversized hoodie - and you were not about to let Sunday be the exception.

You find said hoodie in no time - it’s relatively plain, as all fancy clothes tend to be, but the material lives up to its price. After picking out a few more items, your arms are pretty much covered in what will soon be Sunday’s wardrobe. Hopefully. If they pass the test, that is.

Taking a step back, you scan the shop for Sunday. There aren’t a lot of other customers outside of the two of you, although that’s to be expected, considering the target audience of this floor. 

Your search proves unsuccessful, leaving you to assume that the Halovian had set off to the changing rooms.

“Princess, you in there?” you call out once you arrive, earning a few weird looks from nearby staff. Sure enough, a tired sigh responds from one of the stalls, giving away Sunday’s location. You don’t have to see him to know that he’s rolling his eyes.

“Yes, I’ll be out in a moment,” he replies. You hear the shuffling of cloth before he opens the door.

A low whistle leaves you at the sight of his new outfit. A black turtleneck sweater snugly hugs his body from under a chestnut wool coat that reaches just below his knees, with dress pants that match his sweater outlining his long legs.

“I’m starting to think you could wear a trash bag and still look good,” you joke. Like a baby bird, Sunday tilts his head at the compliment.

“Thank you?” he says, the tilt in his voice making it sound more like a question. His gaze falls onto the bundle of clothes that hang off your arm.

“I’m being serious!” You step into the rather spacious fitting room (perks of being in a high-end store) and set the clothes you’d picked out down. “If I’m ever in a situation where I need pretty privilege, I’m stealing you.”

Sunday closes the door behind you, taking great care not to accidentally shut it on his coat. His collection of clothes are fewer, which made sense considering that he was on the formal side and the fact that he was pickier than you when it came to fashion.

“I thought you didn’t like darker colors,” you comment, reaching into your back pocket and bringing out a pocket knife.

Before Sunday can question why you’re bringing out a knife in the middle of a clothing store, you sit down on a nearby stool and begin cutting off tags from the clothes you picked out for him. Alarmed, Sunday’s wings flare up.

“What-” Thankfully, he has the sense to lower his voice to a startled whisper. “What are you doing?”

Your fingers are fast as you rid each article of clothing from its tag. It’s evident that you’ve been doing this for years - and you have. Out of all of the Stellaron Hunters, you hate spending money the most, and stealing is fun.

“You didn’t think we were actually paying for all of this, did you?” you tease. “This place is crazy expensive.”

“...Somehow, I’m no longer surprised,” Sunday mutters, a layer of resignation and defeat in his tone. “But there are employees everywhere here. How do you plan to deal with them?”

“That,” you sing, “is a secret.”

Sunday furrows his brows, but doesn’t push. Cutting through the last of the tags, you stand up and motion for Sunday to give you the tags on the clothes he’s currently wearing.

The coat is easy; all Sunday has to do is slide it off and give it to you. It’s the turtleneck and the pants that are a bit tougher to work with.

You hear Sunday’s throat constrict as you reach behind him, your finger hooking at the high collar to find the tag. His wings bristle, and his muscles tense. You can practically hear the thump of his heart with how close you are.

“Relax,” you murmur, Sunday flinching at how close you are to his ear. “I’m not going to cut you.”

“I’m aware,” he replies, despite the nervousness wavering in his voice. You don’t miss the way his wings stiffen as the blade of your knife ghosts his neck.

Unable to help a glance down, you catch sight of his larger set of wings protruding from the back window in the sweater. Just like when Kafka had brought him in, they’re cramped and stiff, leaving you to wonder how long it had been since he’d last fully extended them. But the feathers seem to be doing better, at least.

“Mx. [Name]?” Sunday breathes out. You blink out of your thoughts.

“Ah, sorry,” you apologize. “I was just thinking.”

Deciding to take pity on the poor thing, you quickly find the tag and pull it up. A swift pull of your knife, a small snap, and it’s over. The tag joins the soon-to-be-burned pile in the corner of the stall, and Sunday heaves a sigh of relief as you step away.

“May I-” he winces at the warble in his voice- “I can do the last one.”

“You sure?” you question, handing it over anyway. “Do you even know how to use a knife?”

“I am not as sheltered as you think,” Sunday says defensively and unconvincingly. You raise your hands in surrender.

“Alright, alright. Just don’t cut yourself.” You stretch, glancing at the stall’s door. “When you’re done with that, take a look at the stuff I got you. Pick out what you like, what you don’t like I’ll either keep or give to Elio.”

Scooping up the fallen tags in your hands, you contemplate setting them on fire right then and there, but decide against it. If you were going to set off the fire alarm, it’d be better to do it after you’d already left the building.

“I’ll be heading out now,” you inform Sunday, crumpling the tags and shoving them away into your inventory. “When you hear the signal, meet me at the elevator and we’ll get out of here.”

Hesitantly, Sunday nods as he hands you back your knife. “And… what is this signal I’m supposed to look out for?”

A mischievous grin creeps onto your face.

“You’ll know.”

—

“I can’t believe you.”

You wave cheerfully to the staff as you leave, and they bow to you, none the wiser that twelve floors above lie their unconscious colleagues. Surprisingly, Sunday keeps up the farce flawlessly as he bids them farewell with a gentle smile before returning to you with an exasperated expression.

“Yes, as you’ve said about five times now,” you say casually, stepping back into the busy streets. Silently, the doors of the store slide closed behind you, the bouncers not sparing you another glance.

“When people say ‘wait for a signal’,” Sunday begins his lecture again, “they usually mean a light or a sound.”

“There was a sound, though?” you point out. Sunday deadpanned.

“The sound of twelve innocent employees knocking their heads on the floor doesn’t count.” He rubs his temple, still trying to process what just happened. “Just what did you do to them anyway?”

“Gas bomb,” you say, eyeing a man who comes dangerously close to hitting you. “Smelled nice, didn’t it?”

“Vanilla, if I recall,” Sunday affirms. “Although I do wonder why I wasn’t affected.”

You hum. “Did you cover your nose in time? The bomb I used was one of the weaker ones.”

Only the roar of the street replies to you. At Sunday’s abrupt silence, you halt in your tracks.

“Princess?” you start, only to falter once your sight falls in line with his.

Displayed proudly on an electronic billboard, snuggled amongst the various advertisements, is a picture of Sunday before the fall. There, his smile is still bright and joyful as he advertises the release of his little sister’s album to the world. He is still the Oak Family Head, still Robin’s beloved older brother, still beloved by the universe.

But all of that is crushed by the big, bold words that underline his photo.

WANTED

DEAD OR ALIVE

2,540,000,000

“Well, I’ll be damned,” you whistle appreciatively. “You’re just a few billion under Silver Wolf, and you haven’t even made your official debut yet. She is not going to be happy when she finds out.”

Sunday still doesn’t respond. When you look to check on him, you expect horror or maybe even despair, but instead, he gazes at the wanted poster with some sort of detachment, and even a little pride.

“Of all the pictures to use, they choose that…” he comments offhandedly, almost offended. You lean over his shoulder to get a better look.

“It’s cute.” You’re already fishing out your phone to take a picture. “The others are gonna love this - come on come on, we have to take a picture.”

A bemused smile slips onto Sunday’s face at your excitement. Playing along, he indulges you and poses beside his wanted poster with a peace sign. Like a mother at her child’s highschool graduation, you snap photos from all angles with the skill of a professional photographer.

“They grow up so fast,” you fake-sob, snorting when Sunday rolls his eyes despite his smile. Once you’ve finished with your impromptu photoshoot, he comes to your side to look over your shoulder as you swiftly text the group chat.

“The Stellaron Hunter… Family?” Sunday raises a brow as he reads aloud the name of your group chat.

“Yeah,” you chuckle fondly. “Silver Wolf found out that the Express’s group chat is called the Astral Express Family, so we’re parodying them.”

“Is that so?” muses Sunday, intrigued. The corners of his eyes crinkle at your antics in the chat. “For the longest time, I’ve thought of the Express and the Hunters as natural enemies, but you’re much closer than I expected. Even on Penacony, you joined forces in order to defeat me.”

“Well, Sparky has always said that we’re like two sides of the same coin,” you recall. 

“Sparky?” Sunday repeats.

“Firefly,” you clarify. “Or Sam, if that’s more familiar.”

“Do you give nicknames to everyone you meet?” Sunday asks, the question more curious rather than demeaning.

You smile. “Only to people I like.”

Your phone pings again before Sunday can fully process the meaning of your words. Checking it, you see Blade - well, it was actually Kafka, since Blade would apparently rather drown than use his phone - sending a photo in the group chat.

Clicking on the attachment reveals a design for presumably Sunday’s official uniform. Midnight black fabric flows in a striking coat with blazing azure and gold accents. Put together, elegant, yet hinting at danger, the outfit bears both a resemblance to Sunday’s previous one and a bold nod to his new life.

“Hey, look,” you beckon, eager to escape Silver Wolf’s vengeful clutches. “Kafka sent over blueprints for your uniform.”

Passing your phone to him, you look back to the billboard. Other than Sunday’s wanted poster, there’s a number of other advertisements and newspapers plastered on it. One such newspaper - or rather, a holographic video of a news reporting - catches your eye.

A Halovian girl sings on the glitchy screen, a swirling glass in one hand and the other raised to the crowd. City lines border on the night sky in a gorgeous horizon behind her, her emerald eyes reflecting the fireworks that burst in little burning lights around her.

You’d be a fool if you didn’t know who this girl was.

“Your sister is beautiful,” you say, watching as she is bathed in the limelight and adoration of the people.

Sunday glances up from your phone, his eyes softening once he catches sight of the advertisement.

“She is, isn’t she?” he says, his voice gentler than you’d ever heard it. Wistfulness and pure adoration fills him, melting the gems in his eyes and relaxing the stiffness in his shoulders. His gloved hand raises, almost hesitantly, before he lays his fingers on the billboard. “She doesn’t look hurt from the fall… Thank goodness.”

A heavy breath of relief leaves him, shouldering the burden of worry that must’ve plagued him since he’d left Penacony. Suddenly, a memory of when he’d been brought in by Kafka flashes in your mind.

His back had been bruised badly, the backs of his wings nearly crushed from the fall. He’d probably hit his head, considering how long it took for him to wake up, and you had no doubt the pain he was in when he did awaken - it had taken one of your stronger medicines to fix him back up.

“You took the brunt of the fall for your sister,” you realize. “No wonder you were in such bad shape when you came in.”

Sunday chuckles hollowly. “Of course I did. It wasn’t her who nearly imprisoned the entirety of Asdana. What older brother would I be if I allowed my kid sister to get hurt from my mistakes?”

“I’m not condemning you,” you say gently. “I would’ve done the same.”

Sunday nods, although he appears unconvinced. Eager to change the subject, he glanced back at your phone screen and the chat.

“Firefly is taking my presence much better than I anticipated,” he notes. You hum.

“Well, she doesn’t have much of a choice, does she?” You lean over to see the conversation - currently, it’s just Sunday and Kafka trading ideas for his new outfit. Surprisingly, he hasn’t made any comment about the black theme. 

“We all have pasts we want to leave behind. Being able to start anew and become more than what you were before - that’s what being a Stellaron Hunter is all about. In that sense, we’re no different from the Express.”

You elbow Sunday playfully, making sure not to hit his wings. The Halovian grunts in response, clearly not used to such gestures.

“Sparky was once in your shoes - we all were,” you say, chuckling as Sunday rubs his side (you didn’t even hit him that hard). “So there’s not too many hard feelings… Unless you stabbed her. Did you stab her? She doesn’t like getting stabbed.”

“I’m fairly certain I did not stab Firefly,” Sunday replies, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Then you have nothing to worry about.” Snatching back your phone from Sunday, you begin to move away from the billboard, having caught sight of something far more interesting - a pharmacy. “Come on, let’s go. I just remembered, I have to pick up some groceries.”

“Groceries?” Sunday scans the surrounding streets for any sign of a grocery store or marketplace, which given Euphrosyne’s nature, obviously aren’t there.

“Uh… not those kinds of groceries.” 

—

“Why are we here."

“Why do you keep questioning me.”

“Have you perhaps considered that you do a lot of questionable things?”

“Not at all. Now be quiet, the adult is speaking.”

“You-” You kick him in the shin, a traditional method of shutting people up. The employee at the pharmacy’s desk eyes the two of you tiredly - given how late it is, you’re sure they’re nearing the end of their tortuously long shift.

“Sorry about him,” you step in front of Sunday to talk friendly with the clerk. “Long day today?”

They snorted. “You can tell?”

“Yeah,” you laugh softly, already rummaging around in your pocket. Feeling a light, paper stick, you quickly close your fingers around it. “I’d know that look anywhere. Used to see it every time I looked in the mirror.”

That brought a smile to the clerk’s face - a cynical one, yes, but a smile nevertheless. “You don’t have to tell me that.”

“Tell you what,” you snap your fingers. “I was saving this for later, but you look like you need it a lot more than I do.”

From your pocket you withdraw a small lollipop, wrapped in colorful paper with some company name plastered all over it. At the sight of the small treat, a small light shines in their eyes.

“Oh, you don’t have to-”

“No no no,” you shush them and push the lollipop into their hands. “It’s my treat. Don’t worry about it.”

“Thank you so much,” the clerk sighs gratefully, unaware of your snake-like eyes watching their every move.

“Of course,” you coo sympathetically (Sunday shudders, evidently disturbed. His face almost makes you break character). “I know just how grueling work is for you all.”

The clerk nods, unwrapping the lollipop and popping it into their mouth. “I can’t thank you enou-”

Their eyes roll, and they collapse unceremoniously onto the register with an unappealing thunk (both you and Sunday wince. That must’ve hurt). Muffled snores soon begin to roll from their lips. A few seconds pass before you prod them with your finger, but they continue to sleep unbothered.

You step back and turn to Sunday with a blank expression. “I did not know that would happen.”

Sunday crosses his arms disapprovingly. Clearly he is not convinced by your impeccable acting.

“You drugged an innocent worker.” He enunciates every word clearly, sharply, and without a shred of emotion. “Again.”

“I didn’t use gas this time though?” you point out, as if that will make it better.

Sunday sighs as you leap over the counter and start stocking up. “You could just pay like a normal, law abiding citizen.”

You pause, raising a brow pointedly. Sunday blinks, before inevitably realizing the irony of telling a Stellaron Hunter with a considerable bounty on their head to follow the law. 

“I stand corrected.”

You grin toothily. “Now you’re getting it.” 

As you grab bottles of painkillers, allergy medicines, and a plethora of other medications, you hear shuffling behind you. When you glance back, you catch a glimpse of Sunday, taking one of the jackets that you’d stolen from the bag and folding it neatly into a makeshift pillow for the clerk.

“I think they’re bruising,” Sunday mutters, barely concealing panic as he slides the pillow under the clerk’s head.

“What?” You shove the last of the medication into your inventory before turning around to check on the employee. 

You may be a criminal, but you aren’t a monster. If you could do anything about it, you’d prefer not to hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it. That’s why the concoctions you use with civilians are gentler, only instilling a small nap and short-term memory loss to whoever came in contact with them.

Lightly, you tilt the clerk’s head up to make sure the lollipop was still in their mouth. Thankfully, it was, and predictably, it was almost entirely disintegrated. 

“It should kick in in a sec.”

“Sorry?” Worry overtakes Sunday’s voice for a moment.

“Hold on…” you narrow your eyes, closely monitoring the clerk’s state. If you’d made a miscalculation, you’d have to heal them the normal way.

But it seems that the Aeons are looking down on you, for a pale-colored light soon begins to flutter from the clerk. A relieved smile breaks out, and you gently let the clerk’s head rest back on the jacket.

“There we go.”

The light glows briefly, centering around the clerk’s head, and the bruise begins to fade - slowly but surely ebbing away until it’s completely gone. Hopping back over the counter, you pat Sunday on the shoulder.

“They’ll be fine,” you reassure him. “Let’s get out of here before they wake up.”

Wordlessly, he follows, glimpsing back at the clerk one last time before following you out of the pharmacy. For a moment, pure, yet serene silence hangs between the two of you as you walk down the crowded streets.

After what seems like a tranquil eternity, Sunday finally breaks the silence.

“What was that?”

You shift the clothes bags from one hand to the other. “Didn’t you see it back at the clothing store?”

He shakes his head wordlessly, which you can only tell he did because of the slight rustle of feathers against hair.

“When it comes to civilians, my creations are laced with a tiny bit of my power.” Euphrosyne has three moons, and all of them in the violet sky, you notice. “That way, there’s no lasting damage. I mean, it’s not their fault that their company is a good robbery target.”

Sunday ignores the last sentence. “You fed me something similar when we met, if I recall. One second I was in excruciating pain, and the next there was no pain at all. Was that candy also imbued with your abilities?”

“Yep,” you confirm. “Although you got the variant that’s for allies.”

“I figured, considering I didn’t immediately pass out,” Sunday hums out a laugh. “Although… I will say it puts me at ease, knowing that none of those workers were hurt during our escapades.”

You smile teasingly. “Aw, were you having a guilty conscience?”

“Of course,” he huffs.

“Well, you don’t have to anymore,” you say lightheartedly. “Rest assured knowing that out of all the crimes I’ve committed, assaulting someone who didn’t start the fight isn’t one of them.”

“You certainly have a way with words,” sighs Sunday, but he’s smiling. “But thank you, I suppose.”

“You’re very welcome, princess.”

For once, Sunday doesn’t give you a dirty or unimpressed look at the nickname. Rather, he keeps walking by your side. In the dim light of Euphrosyne’s moons, you can barely make out his face, and so you miss the bemused smile that slips onto his face.

“You know,” he says, “you still haven’t eaten yet.”

You stare at him. “Oh. Right.”

Sunday snorts knowingly. “Of course. There’s a food cart near that building over there. You don’t plan on drugging the chef now, do you?”

“Nah,” you wave your hand dismissively. “I respect food cart workers.”

“So you do have morals.”

“How could you say that after I healed someone?”

“You mean, after you did the bare minimum?”

You punch him in the arm. “I’m not liking your attitude, young man.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sunday says cheekily. You roll your eyes, opening your mouth to respond.

But then something wet hits your cheek, and then another joins it. Panicked screams and stomps erupt around you as people rush for shelter. You gingerly touch your cheek. The drop on your cheek doesn’t sting, thankfully.

“These people… quite like to overact, don’t they,” Sunday observes, as everyone stampedes for cover. “It isn’t even raining that much.”

“Eh, you know how rich people are,” you giggle, wiping your cheek. “But this is a surprise. Rain rarely appears on Euphrosyne, at least from what I’ve heard.”

“Agreed-” A man crashes into Sunday, the Halovian barely able to hold the two of them from falling on the pavement. 

The man’s things clatter to the floor, one of which being an umbrella that he… apparently didn’t know how to use. Curses spew from the man’s lips, his face turning red as he glares daggers at Sunday. The Halovian’s smile is tight as he straightens the man.

“Please be careful, sir,” he says passive-aggressively, customer service mode activated in full force to hold him back from committing murder. “You could’ve gotten hurt.”

The man doesn’t bother to listen. He shakes an angry finger in Sunday’s face, grabbing what he can off the floor before running off. You stare awkwardly at his trail of dust before turning back to Sunday.

“You handled that better than I would’ve,” you say after a few minutes. Sunday exhales heavily, massaging his temple.

“Naturally. I worked with buffoons like that on the daily,” he mutters. “But it seems experience doesn’t make it any more bearable.”

You pat his shoulder. “Well, it’s over now.”

“Yes,” Sunday hums, bending down to pick something up. When he straightens, you see the man’s umbrella in Sunday’s hands. “I suppose it is.”

You blink. “When did you get that?”

“Just now,” he says sarcastically. “But I did kick it out of the way while he was cursing me out, if that clarifies things.”

You stare dumbfoundedly as he opens up the umbrella, acting as if he hasn’t done anything wrong in his life. Holding it above both of your heads, he offers it to you with a smug smirk you aren’t sure you like.

“Well? Shall we?”

You break out of your daze. Pride swells in your chest and you join him, snickering.

“They really do grow fast, huh?”

—

Somewhere near, in Penacony, Firefly stares at her phone nervously. Her body still singes from the burst of fireworks in which she’d experienced her third and final death on the Planet of Festivities, but it’s the least of her worries right now.

She rereads the chat just to confirm her suspicions. She’d already been skeptical when you suddenly asked Silver Wolf to get Sunday’s things, but this just outright confirms it.

Sunday, the man she’d just helped run over with a train at least eight times, the convicted criminal by both the Family and the IPC, the former Oak Family Head who’d tried to imprison her in an eternal dream, is now her coworker.

It isn’t like she wishes anything bad upon him; in essence, she understands that what he did was out of noble intentions and a wish to help the weak. But it had only been a few days at most since she’d last seen the Halovian, and here he was again.

She glances up at the fake sky of the dreamscape. The Radiant Feldspar soars overhead, and on board is Robin, Sunday’s sister who never stopped looking for him.

Firefly’s feet shift uncomfortably. It’s getting hard to breathe. With the Order’s protection lifted, the effects of her Entropy Loss Syndrome return, although not as bad as in reality.

Should she tell Robin? The songstress has been going mad with worry over her missing brother, and it probably hasn’t helped that the Family Heads’ lips are sealed regarding his fate. But Robin is singing right now, and Firefly doesn’t want to ruin that.

She shakes her head. No, she can’t say that. This is Robin’s brother, for Aeons’ sake. And she knows that Robin must be suffering right now, despite the smile she wears for the crowd.

Firefly exhales deeply. She pulls out her phone.

Here goes nothing.

<< previous || series masterlist || next chapter >>

reblogs w comments are appreciated !!

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Back home p.2

Hii guys I hope you enjoy part 2 of this story featuring a love triangle between Arthur and Charles Leclerc. If you've missed part 1 here it is.

As Arthur parks the car, the familiar Italian restaurant you used to frequent comes into view. The sight of it immediately warms your heart, bringing back a flood of memories. "Arthur, this is perfect! It's like you read my mind," you say, turning to him with a smile that reaches your eyes.

"I'm glad you like it," he replies, his own smile genuine as he steps out of the car. He quickly circles around to your side, opening the door for you like the gentleman he's always been.

Inside, the cosy atmosphere of the restaurant feels like a comforting embrace. The soft lighting, the smell of freshly baked bread, and the quiet hum of conversation from other diners set the perfect backdrop for your reunion. As you begin to catch up over plates of pasta and glasses of wine, it feels like no time has passed at all.

"I'm so sorry, Arthur," you say, your voice filled with concern as you reach across the table to take his hand. "When you told me through FaceTime that Carla had broken up with you, I couldn’t believe it. It must have been so hard on you."

Arthur squeezes your hand gently, his expression softening as he looks into your eyes. The truth is, Carla didn't break up with him—he ended things with her the moment he knew you were coming back. After all these years, it had always been you. But he can't bring himself to say that, not yet.

"It was hard," he admits, his tone measured. "But I'm much better now, especially with you here." His words bring a smile to your face, one that he mirrors, feeling a sense of relief that you're finally back where you belong.

After lunch, the two of you drive to your apartment, chatting and laughing the entire way. The sun is setting, casting a warm, golden glow over the city as Arthur pulls up in front of your building. He helps you with your bags, insisting on carrying the heaviest ones despite your playful protests.

As you both reach the front door, the sound of a door opening catches your attention. You turn just in time to see Charles stepping out of the neighbouring apartment, his eyes widening in shock when he sees you.

"Y/N?" he exclaims, clearly taken aback. "I didn't know you were back!"

You smile, surprised but pleased to see him. "Charles! I just got in today. Arthur was kind enough to pick me up and help me with my bags."

Charles glances at Arthur, his expression unreadable. Arthur, on the other hand, remains calm, giving Charles a polite nod. He had deliberately kept your return a secret from Charles, knowing that his reaction might complicate things.

"Here, let me help," Charles offers, quickly stepping forward and grabbing one of the bags from Arthur's hand before you can protest.

"Thank you, Charles," you say gratefully. "Why don't you both come in for a bit? I could use the company while I unpack."

Arthur hesitates for a moment, but Charles is already nodding. "We'd be happy to help," Charles says, flashing you a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes.

As you walk into your apartment, the familiar scent of home fills the air. You set your bags down by the door and turn to Charles with a curious smile. "So, are you still living with your mom next door?" you ask, remembering the days when you used to spend so much time at their place.

Charles pauses, a brief flicker of something unreadable passing through his eyes as he answers. "No, I’m just visiting. I’ve been away for a race, but I thought I’d stop by to see her." He adds casually, "I’ll probably come by more often now." His tone remains light, but there's an underlying intention, now that he knows you're back he'll come around more often.

You smile at his words, completely unaware of the hidden meaning behind them. "That’s great! I’m sure she’s happy to have you around. How’s the season going with Ferrari?" you ask, genuinely interested in hearing about his racing career. You remember how passionate he was about it when you last saw him.

Charles’s face lights up as he starts talking about the season. He dives into the details of the latest races, the ups and downs with the car, and the challenges he’s faced on the track. His enthusiasm is contagious, and you find yourself caught up in his stories, asking questions and laughing at his anecdotes.

But as the conversation flows between you and Charles, Arthur’s mood shifts. He stands a little further back, his jaw tightening as he watches his brother monopolize your attention. Every laugh, every shared smile between you and Charles grates on him. He had been looking forward to this moment—just you and him, reconnecting after all these years—but now Charles is here, and it feels like his brother is stealing his time with you.

You, however, are blissfully unaware of the tension simmering between the brothers. To you, it feels like old times, catching up with people who mean a lot to you. You’re focused on the stories Charles is telling, completely missing the way Arthur’s hands clench into fists at his sides, or the way his eyes narrow slightly whenever Charles makes you laugh.

Eventually, Charles wraps up his latest story, and you glance over at Arthur, who hasn’t said much. You flash him a warm smile, hoping to bring him back into the conversation. "Arthur, you should tell Charles about the restaurant we went to earlier. It’s one of our old favourites."

Arthur forces a smile, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. "Yeah, it was nice," he says simply, his tone clipped. He’s trying to be polite, but inside, he’s fuming. All he wanted was a quiet afternoon with you, but now he’s sharing it with the one person who always seemed to overshadow him.

Charles, not as oblivious as he might seem, catches the flash of envy in Arthur’s eyes. The subtle tightening of his brother’s jaw doesn't escape him, and it only spurs him on. "That sounds great," Charles says, his voice smooth as he locks eyes with you, a hint of challenge beneath his easy smile. "Maybe we can all go together sometime."

He lets the suggestion linger, his gaze lingering on you with just enough warmth to make his intentions clear, even as he fully registers Arthur’s growing tension. Sensing an opportunity, Charles shifts a little closer, his body language open and inviting as he continues the conversation, deliberately drawing you in further.

Arthur, feeling the shift in the air, fights to keep his composure. Every instinct screams at him to pull you closer, to remind Charles that you were always meant to be his. But he knows he can't afford to lose control, not now. If he's going to win you over, he needs to play it cool—even if it's killing him inside. So he forces a tight smile, holding back the words that threaten to spill out, determined not to let his brother see how deeply he’s affected.

But Charles, fully aware of the silent battle between them, isn't about to back down. And as you remain blissfully unaware of the tension swirling around you, the rivalry between the two brothers only intensifies, each of them silently vowing to win your heart.

Here's part 3

Tags: @iamapersonwholikesunicorns, @janeh22

[sweetbans29]

Power Couple Part 2 - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: You and Caitlin get to support each other at the Olympics (based on THIS request)

Warnings: I actually don't think there is any, fluff

Word Count: 2.8k

Power Couple

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: Another cute one here for ya!

Time passed faster than either of you knew it could. Both you and Caitlin were named Rookie of the Year, you in the WNSL, and Cait in the WNBA.

Since then, the two of you have found two houses when you originally thought it would have only been one. A nice townhome in Chigaco and a neighborhood home in Indiana. Where you lived depended on who was in season. Both of your managers were very supportive of the two of you and would help organize your off-season life around where you would be. It would still require travel but your home base was still with each other.

Since that initial conversation about marriage, the two of you talked about it a little more. Most of it was just talk about what life would be like after the two of you are married but you have yet to see a ring. It was nice that it wasn't something that either of you needed right away to solidify your relationship. The two of you had been through so much already that you knew the other was stuck but in the best way.

Caitlin ended up proposing about halfway through your next season - all thanks to your manager. He was able to help her set it up without you having any idea it was coming - and you were thankful it wasn't on any sort of public platform.

The two of you actually ended up having a really small wedding in the back of her parent's house with just your immediate families. It was perfect and could not have been fitted better for the two of you. Of course, you had a celebration with both of your teams after your honeymoon which just turned into one giant party.

You surprised Caitlin with a golden retriever on her 24th birthday. It had taken you a little longer than you had hoped to get a dog but trying to navigate life through rookie season and what the W looked like for both of you was too much to add another character into the mix. But when things began to feel more of a routine, you knew it was time to add to your family.

You had planned the whole day for the two of you. Starting with a brunch with her team then off to a few more little things that the two of you enjoyed, eventually making your way back to Chicago. The night ended at a rooftop bar overlooking the water. At the end of dinner, the two of you sat there talking about life, reminiscing on all of your favorite memories.

"Thank you for today, babe," Caitlin says. The two of you are sitting with your chairs next to one another, looking out at the way the Chicago lights hit the lake.

You hum and look down at your watch - a gift from Caitlin for your birthday last year.

"How would you feel about a little walk along the water before turning in for the night?" You ask.

"That sounds perfect." She says as the two of you head from the restaurant.

The two of you walk hand in hand along the water. Something begins to approach you. You are intently watching Caitlin as the little figure makes its way towards you.

You hear Caitlin gasp and bend down. The puppy runs right up to her.

"Look at you! Where did you come from?" Caitlin is talking to the overly excited pup who just wants to cover her with kisses.

"How peculiar..." you say letting your girl take in the moment.

"Who do you belong to little one?" Caitlin asks, laughing at the puppy who is starting to settle down.

"Why don't you take a look at its collar?" You say, Caitlin just now noticing the collar around the dogs neck.

She took a second to orient it so she could read it. The second she does, her face shoots up to look at you.

"You did not." She says in complete disbelief. A smiling beaming on her face.

"I did not what?" You ask, pretending to be clueless as to what she could be talking about.

"You did not get me a puppy for my birthday." She says picking up the puppy.

"Why wouldn't I?" You say as you come over and pet the little one. The puppy gets excited again picking up a familiar smell.

"He is all ours," you say as you kiss the puppy's head and it licks your face.

Welcoming a pup into your life was an easy transition. Your favorite thing became seeing Caitlin curled up on the couch with the pup. They would often nap together and you would always snap a picture. On the flip side, Calitin would always find you in your yard kicking around a soccer ball with the little one (who was not so little anymore). She would always take videos of you scoring on your furbaby and running around the yard celebrating with your pup closely behind, jumping up and down just as excited as you were.

The next year or so was one of the best years for the two of you both professionally. It's also the year that the two of you get to see each other the most.

The Fever is on the uprise as they are looking to head to playoffs. It will be Cait's second time going to playoffs with this team. Last year was their first, getting knocked out in the second round. Watching them struggle to get their footing during Caitlin's rookie year to seeing them dominate on the court now has been a testament to the work Cait and the team have put in. It was also an amazing accomplishment for your girl to get Rookie of the Year and then MVP in her second year. As much as people wanted it to be in the same year - that was never Cait's expectation for herself. She just kept pushing to become better. You saw it, the team saw it and the world saw it. Not only that - but the expansion of the W that came with the up-rise of support is a continuous reminder of the effect that your girl has had and continues to have.

Your team has also benefitted from the rise in women's sports. It was neat to see the influx of fans in women's soccer in the US. It started with your team in Chicago. The spike happened drastically as Caitlin began attending your games - part of you felt like your manager had some sort of political agenda when he began talking to Cait but soon saw the genuine friendship that built between the two. The fanbase grew, not as much as women's basketball, but grew enough to have a few team additions to the US over the years.

Now the two of you are headed to the 2028 Olympics being held in CA. The last time the Olympics were held in Los Angeles was in 1984 (which is just over 50 years from when the Olympics were first in LA in 1932).

When teams were announced, it came as no surprise to either of you. Both of you were at the 2024 Olympics but on the second-string team - not getting much playing time. This year would be different, this year both of you were going as the face of your sports. Both of your teams had an all-star line knowing gold was within reach.

Being at the open ceremony and walking out to represent the USA while the Olympics were being held here was an experience you know would never be matched. It would never top the first time the two of you represented the USA but this would be a special one.

The two of you are standing next to each other the whole time, your respective teams close by. One thing that your relationship has opened the door to is relationships with the girls in your sports. Often times when Caitlin would come to support your games, she would bring a few teammates along and they would hang with the team after. You did the same with your teammates. Your two teams just naturally became one big family. It was nice to see that happen even within the USWNT and USAWBB teams. There was much less time acclimating but your two teams bonded thanks to your relationship.

It was the next morning when the media took to pointing out the two of you in LA together.

Looking through your feed - everything is about the Olympics. What catches your eye is a picture of you and Caitlin standing next to each other, both of your hands behind your backs looking up at what was happening in the opening ceremony. You scroll through to then see some photos of you exploring LA, one at the beach and one with the two of you shopping. They were all cute photos and you lean over to Caitlin who is scrolling on her phone.

"The first one is my favorite," you say as she takes a look at the photos.

"They are all my favorites," she says examining each photo. "But ya, that first one is fire."

She hands your phone back to you and sets her phone down turning to face you.

"How are you feeling about game 1?" She asks.

"I am feeling pretty good. Excited mostly. I am ready," you say as you take one of her hands into yours. "You?"

"I am ready." She says. "I feel more ready than I ever have." Her fingers now playing with yours.

You each have your own rooms but opted to stay in one, only using the second if really necessary - which neither of you foresaw needing.

Caitlin was the first to play out of the two of you. It was funny that you were always more nervous for her to play than she was and vice versa. When she was on the court - there was no doubt in anyone's mind that she didn't belong there and her lack of nerves came from her confidence in her ability and love. For you, it was growing up on the field - knowing who you are on the field never affected who you were off the field.

The way the Olympics set it up this year was better than the last time. There were special box seats for other athletes to come watch - not needing to hide or get bombarded by fans. Although you always made a point to go sign some autographs and take photos with those who have traveled to come and see you.

You brought some of your team along to watch Caitlin's team.

The level of play was so much fun to watch. You were cheering on Cait and the other women so much that one of your teammates had to tell you multiple times to calm down so you wouldn't lose your voice the following day.

They are down in the first two quarters but make a comeback in the third. The fourth was just a battle of who wanted it more.

The US took home the first win and could not be more proud of Caitlin and her team.

After the game, you ran up to her, crashing right into her.

"Watching you on the court will never get old," you say to her.

She lets out a laugh.

"I sure hope not babe, because I am nowhere near done." She says. "That one was too close for comfort for me."

"You were all adjusting and seeing what it's like to play on this sort of stage - the next one will be even better," you say letting her go.

The girls on your team all congratulate Caitlin and her team. They all begin talking about how they are stoked to come to watch your team play for the first time tomorrow.

As you all walk out - Caitlin makes time to sign some autographs and talk so some of the young girls who came out to watch them play.

You are pulled to the side by someone from ESPN and they ask if they can ask you a few questions. You nod saying you have time for one or two. This wasn't the first interview you had since coming to LA but you knew it would be the first one where you were going to get asked about your girl.

"How does it feel getting to be here not just playing for your country but watching Caitlin also represent the USA?" The reporter asks.

"It is almost surreal." You say. "I mean it is one thing to be here to represent our country but brings it to a whole new level getting to be here to support Caitlin. I could not be more proud of her."

"She was incredible in the US's first game against Japan. She really led the team well today." The reporter says and continues. "There has already been a handful of photos going around of you and Caitlin at the opening ceremony and out and about in LA. The two of you were named the W power couple during both of your rookie years and now you are here at the Olympics. Can we expect you two to now be the US Olympic power couple?"

You laugh at the question. It still is crazy to you how much attention your relationship has gotten even after all these years.

"It has been fun seeing how much the media loves our relationship," you say in a fun manner. "I mean at the end of the day I will be there to support Caitlin whenever possible and I know she would do the same. It is something really special that we are both here representing our country and being able to support one another on this platform is one that neither of us will ever forget. It is always nice to have your biggest fan with you as you take on the world in your sport."

"Well, we look forward to seeing Caitlin cheer you on tomorrow as you take on Zambia." They say and you thank them, making your way back to Caitlin.

Over the next few days, you and Caitlin switch off going to watch each other play gaining another huge following of people bringing back the nickname 'US power couple'. On the days the two of you didn't have games, you both would go out and explore the city. Most of your time is spent at the beach or going to watch other US games.

The media ate up every time the two of you were out, knowing the other wasn't far behind. The attention the two of you held was even more than your rookie year.

It is the last few days of the Olympics that has you excited. Both you and Caitlin. You are about to head into your final game, hoping for a spot on the podium.

As you are getting ready, you put your wedding ring on a safety pin and pin it on the inside of your jersey. You would pin it on the inside of your jersey while Caitlin would tie it into her shoelace. It was a way to have each other on the court or field.

Your last game of the series was the most challenging let. Both teams put in all they have for their country. The game goes into overtime with your team coming out on top at the end of it.

You don't remember much after the game but that night you see your mom has sent you a video.

Opening the message from her, you see a link to an article. As you open it, it is an article that someone has written about your relationship with Caitlin dating back to that first photo in high school. You scan through it seeing as they have included all of your milestones. At the end of it, you notice they have included your time together in LA. The last photo of the article mirrors the very first photo the world has of Caitlin supporting you.

It is a photo taken, field level with your hand raised in the air, yelling after your final win. Right behind you, you see Caitlin with her hands in the air, mirroring your excitement in the US support section. Whoever wrote the article must have been following the two of you for a while now. You look and see that they included a side-by-side of your senior year and today with the caption - 'Once a fan, always a fan'.

You save the photo and throw your phone away from you curling up next to your girl.

"Forever and always, right babe?" You ask.

"Forever and always," Caitlin responds, kissing the top of your head.

AN: CUTE. Let me know your thoughts. And as always, thank you for your love and support 🤍

[crueisummer]

𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 | 𝓒𝓛16

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

series summary: Kika and Pierre invite you to their engagement party where you meet her and Pierre’s friends from F1, specifically, a certain handsome Monegasque driver.

chapter summary: You and Charles stay up talking about your dreams, fears, insecurities, and things that haunt your mind when you're alone.

chapter warnings: vvv emotional, feminism (oh no! jk), derogatory remarks, swearing, mental health, mentions of death (herve, jules, tonio)

playlist: ♫ gorgeous ♪ delicate ♬ i think he knows ♡ you are in love

author's note: Part 2 means we're halfway there!! For this chapter, I focused on the delicate's chorus to show the more vulnerable and "human" side of the characters. I will add the other aspects of the song to the following chapters. I also wrote this in a different style but I hope u guys like it. <333 Lastly, thank you all so much for almost 500 likes on the first chapter. ·°՞(≧□≦)՞°·. screaming! crying!

word count: 3.5k

disclaimer: All characters and events in this story, even those based on real people, are entirely fictional.

                ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞

01:57 ━━━━●───── 03:52 ⇆ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ↻ ılıılıılıılıılıılı ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮

The light beamed into your eyes from the window, intensifying the pounding in your head and increasing your thirst. As you opened your eyes, you squinted against the brightness, gradually adjusting to the sudden flash. Sensing movement beside you, you turned around to find Charles sleeping shirtless beside you. Memories of the previous night flooded back, replaying in your mind.

Before leaving the party with Charles, you looked for Kika to inform her of your departure. Seeing Charles waiting for you near the elevator, phone in hand, she expressed concern with a worried expression. Charles had recently ended a three-year relationship, and his ex happened to be the best friend of his previous ex. Kika was well aware of Charles' red flags, as she knew you, her dear friend Y/N, were known for wholeheartedly loving and falling hard for others who often failed to appreciate you as you deserved.

“Please be careful,” She smiled at you to which you nodded. She watched as you approached Charles and he smiled upon seeing you. As you waved farewell to Kika, she softly whispers to herself, “with each other’s hearts.”

You and Charles found yourselves seated on the floor of your hotel room's living room, uncomfortable party clothes off, cozy hoodies on, and legs crossed, with a spread of chips, beer, and mini alcohol bottles laid out before you. During your conversation, you discovered your shared value of family, discussing the strong relationships you both had with your loved ones.

"Are you close to your mom?" It was a question you always asked the guys you were interested in. You believed that a man who had a good relationship with his mother would treat his partner with love and respect. Although it didn't always turn out to be true, you still posed the question.

"Yeah, the first thing I do when I return to Monaco is visit her. You know, she's the only one I trust to cut my hair?" Charles smiles warmly, reminiscing about his mom. "You see, she's a professional hairdresser. So, sometimes when she watches me on TV, she'll send me a text saying I need a haircut. I just reply with her flight details to come see me, and we laugh about it, but she still comes over. That's why I've never had a bad haircut!"

"That is adorable! How often does she visit and watch your races?" You ask, eager to know more about his mother.

"Well, not as often as I'd like, that's for sure. She usually accompanies Arthur to his races."

"Races? He races too?"

"Yeah, he competes in Formula 2. Sometimes the Formula 1 and 2 races coincide on the same weekends so I get to see them both." You're momentarily taken aback. Wow, they must be RICH rich!

"Formula 2? How many Formulas are there?!" You exaggerate.

"Just three, cheri," he chuckles. "You know, my dad used to race in Formula 3 back in the '90s."

"So, it runs in the family, huh? What does your dad do now?" You inquire, looking down and grabbing a chip. The room falls into an unexpected silence, and you glance up, noticing a soft and melancholic expression on his face.

"Well, actually, I lost my dad seven years ago," he replies, offering a tight-lipped smile.

"Oh, Charles! I’m sorry, I had no idea..." Shock overtakes you, and you instinctively cover your mouth with your hand. Is that why he’s only been talking about his mom and brothers the whole night?

He interrupts, "No, it's okay. I think I’m getting used to talking about it. You know, they always interview me about their deaths. Sometimes I feel like they don't truly respect them, or me, and they just want me to talk about them for views and content."

"Deaths?" You're taken aback, struggling to comprehend the weight of his words.

"Yeah, over the past seven years, I've lost three important people in my life. My dad, my godfather Jules, and one of my best friends, Tonio."

"Charles, I'm so sorry to hear that. How have you been coping?" Rising from the floor, you move closer to him, placing a comforting hand on his thigh.

"Sometimes I find myself spiraling into these depressive episodes where I just want to close off my heart. Because if you close your heart, no new people can enter, only to leave again." He looks away, his eyes welling up with tears. Your expression softens, and he musters a small smile in your direction. He continues, his voice filled with emotion, "I've tried it before, but I realized that it doesn't make anything easier. These days, I just choose to remember them for who they were, their lives, their dreams, and the sacrifices they made for me to be where I am today."

You were taken aback at Charles’ maturity. The mere thought of losing someone dear to your heart was overwhelming, and here he was, having experienced the loss of not just one, but three significant people in his life. You couldn't help but admire him for getting through his hardships and finding happiness in the time he shared with them. Especially since he uses it as motivation to be a better person.

As your conversation continued, you decided to shift to a lighter topic in an attempt to lift Charles' spirits. You shared stories of performing in numerous countries, while Charles recounted his experiences racing in Formula 1 events across the globe. You laughed at how unfamiliar you were with his sport, just as he was with your music.

He asks if you have your phone with you.

"Um, it's somewhere around here," you respond while searching for it. Eventually, you spot it on the kitchen counter. "Why?"

"Just open Apple Music or Spotify, whichever you prefer," he says with a mischievous grin as you sit back down in front of him. You nod and show him that Apple Music is open.

"Now search for my name," he instructs, and you type his name, discovering that he is listed as an 'artist'. There’s no way…

"Charles Leclerc Artist? How are you an artist?" you raise an eyebrow at him and glance back at your phone. You notice that he has released two songs in the past year.

He laughs at your confusion. "Well, Ms. Grammy singer, I also play the piano. I wrote these songs last year and finished them around the time of the Australian GP and the Miami GP, which is why they're named AUS23 and MIA23."

You're shocked, your mouth hanging open dramatically as you listen to the songs. Charles laughs at your reaction. You didn't think he could become any more attractive, and now he surprises you with this. Could he be the incarnation of your dream man?

"That's amazing! I guess I know who to call when I need help with a song," you wink at him, and he chuckles.

"No, no. You're at least 100 times better than me. I don't have as much talent as you do to write lyrics for the music," he praises you.

“Okay, since you know a bit about my art and making a song and all that, I, on the other hand, have no fucking idea about Formula 1. Like, why do you have to travel all around the world and race on different tracks? Is it like some kind of world tour?" You burst into laughter at your own humorous analogy, and Charles, who was as intoxicated as you, finding it amusing as well.

“Do you really want to understand it?” You nod at his question as he sits up straight and stretches his head and hands, “warming up” to explain.

"You see, every race weekend is different. Let’s say you do Plan A for this weekend, sometimes it works, and we get podium. But sometimes despite our best efforts, it doesn’t. So, after the race, we talk about what went right and what went wrong and then we make a new plan for the next race. Do you understand so far?”

You nod at him. Though a slight confusion still lingered in your mind, you couldn't help but be captivated by the passion radiating from his every word. The way his eyes sparkled, and his voice exuded genuine excitement revealed the depth of his love for his job. In that moment, you realized that this wasn't merely a profession to him; it was a true calling, a relentless pursuit of excellence that fueled his spirit.

"I still don’t understand. Maybe being there and watching it firsthand can help me. What do you think?" you playfully suggest, winking at Charles as you extend your legs onto his lap. He responds by grabbing your leg with his left hand and dramatically clutching his heart with his right, feigning a heart attack. "Oh, amour, the thought of you in red."

As your connection deepened, you both began to open up and share parts of yourselves that were usually kept hidden. You spoke honestly about your doubts, worries, and the overwhelming thoughts that haunted you when you were alone.

"Can I ask you something?" you inquire, looking up at him.

"Go ahead," he replies, grabbing a chip and taking a bite.

"Have you read about me? Like on the internet, in articles or magazines?"

"I see the headlines, but I don’t really read them, so let's just go with a 'no,'" he says, wiping the salt and dust from his hands. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, I’m sure I already know your answer, but doesn't it bother you sometimes, the things they write about you?" you question, and he nods, encouraging you to continue. "It's just that they always make comments about my personal life, especially with the people I choose to be with."

"Yeah, well, those people's lives are so miserable that they have nothing better to do than try to ruin ours," he jokes, attempting to lighten the mood, and you find yourself laughing.

You glance down at your lap, your hands fidgeting as you gather your thoughts, when Charles interrupts, taking your hand. "Hey, I know it sucks, but I think it's something that comes with success. It bothers me too when they do that to me. Look, I won't pretend to fully understand what you're going through because I know I don't."

You look up at him, puzzled. "Do you remember earlier at the party when you arrived before me? When your car pulled up at the restaurant, they went crazy. Now, I've been in front of cameras since I was a kid, and I know a thing or two about paparazzi, but I've never seen fame like yours before. They were taking so many pictures of you that it didn't even look like flashes anymore, it’s like someone had switched on a blinding light for those few seconds you walked from your car to the door."

"I couldn't really see you because of the crowd, but when I heard them shouting your name, it just made sense. Don't tell the engaged couple, but I'm 100% sure you were the best thing at the party. " he winks at you. "But still, that doesn't make it okay. The reason they act like that is because they are taking advantage of your popularity. They think that getting a good picture of you, or a story, out of you or even something they made up, is big money.”

You’ve thought of this before, the way they treat you is different from other celebrities, but you hesitated to bring them up, fearing it would make you appear arrogant. It was a nice change to discuss about your life, popularity and the challenges that come with it, and to be met with Charles' honest and genuine response. You look back at the times you talked about this with a partner, and how they dismissed your concerns, labeling you as ungrateful, overreacting, or even a drama queen. The contrast in reactions causes you to appreciate Charles' maturity, understanding and support.

Despite your seemingly different lives, his centered around sports, yours with music, your personalities and passion for your respective crafts and families made you remarkably similar. With every word exchanged, the infatuation between you grew stronger.

So, at 4 am, while leaning against the balcony of your hotel room, a comfortable silence settled between you.

“I’m going to be honest with you, I’ve never experienced this before.” Charles says softly. “Staying up at this hour and talking about my life and the shit I go through to a girl I’ve only met for 8 hours now. It makes me feel like I want to tell you my whole life. It feels…” He trails off, a loss for words.

“I get what you mean. I never thought we would have a lot in common, especially since from the outside, it looks like we’re living different lives. But it looks like we're not so different after all.”

“Y/N, I know it’s too soon because we’ve only just met but I really want to get to know you better.” He faces you and draws himself closer. His green eyes pierce your Y/E/C eyes, he smiles genuinely at you.

As you gaze at him, your heartbeat quickens. You can’t tell if this is real life because you’re experiencing emotions you’ve never felt before. Here stands a guy who is caring, grounded, and by the way, absolutely gorgeous, and he is genuinely interested in getting to know you. Your thoughts waver back and forth, questioning whether this is okay. Is it cool that I’ve shared everything in my mind with him? Is it chill that he’s in my head?

Your mind and heart go into battle. Think! After all, you've only known this person for eight hours! Eight hours, Y/N! On the other hand, what if this is actually okay? Could this be the story of you meeting "the one"? Or your soulmate?

You tried to find a compromise.

Blushing, you gazed up at him and agreed, “I feel the same way. But can we take it slow? I never like to rush things, especially relationships.”

He nods and hugs you from behind. “Is this alright?”

You hummed and you both stayed there, watching the stars and the beautiful view of Florence.

You didn’t want the night to end, and you couldn’t imagine saying goodbye to him right now. So you tried to make up excuses for him to stay. “But, you know, it’s too dangerous to drive at this hour.”

“Cheri, there is no such as thing as a time that is too dangerous to drive.” He chuckles at your cuteness. “Plus, I’m a Formula One driver, I think I can handle myself.”

“No, you can’t because we just finished doing shots like three hours ago! And what if other drunk people are driving around too?”

Charles lightly laughs at your stubbornness. He knows you’re too prideful to just tell him to stay the night, especially after you both agreed to keep things slow. He sees you avoiding his gaze, so he addresses you, “Y/N.”

As you looked up, he smiled at you and gently holds your chin and locking eyes. "Je suis folle de toi.” he uttered.

Confused, you smiled in anticipation, knowing he had likely said something sweet. Seconds later, he translated himself, the proximity between your faces nearly undoing you. "I am crazy about you.”

...

Carefully locating your phone, you closed the bedroom door behind you. Retrieving two water bottles from the mini fridge in the kitchen, you settled on the couch in the living room of your hotel suite, resting your legs on the coffee table.

You check your messages and there were some from Kika, and your management team. Kika texted you and said to meet her for brunch at 11. Though, with a Monegasque driver in your bed, you don’t know when you can leave, so you move on to the other conversations, keeping in mind that you reply to her soon.

Your management team’s group chats were asking where you are and who you were hanging with. You read their earlier messages and saw that there are articles and pictures of you and Charles leaving the party last night. You open your Twitter account and see the two of you are trending. Of course, we are.

You scrolled through the tweets and some fans were happy, some were not, some just... don't have any opinion. And you prefer the latter. Reading the tweets of the fans was one thing, but the way the media and articles talked about you was different. It's like they didn't have respect you.

The articles get to you, Why is there so much scrutiny around my dating life? They called you a serial dater, manipulator, etc., even creating "warnings" about you for Charles; saying you're just gonna break his heart and write a song about him.

You furrow your brow, wondering why they single you out like this and why other women aren't subjected to the same level of scrutiny. It's frustrating because they never say these things about other people, especially men in the industry who engage in similar dating behaviors. Your male friends in the industry can date different people or even cheat and sing about it without raising any eyebrows. But when it comes to you, the accusations fly.

When they accuse you of "jumping" from one relationship to another, they label you a player or claim you cheated. If you choose to casually date without exclusivity, they call you a slut. It never ends. Where do they expect me to stand? When will it all just stop?

You start to question whether the people you want to be with have seen what has been written about you and if your reputation, which may be based on something fake, can affect the real connections you might make. You begin to ponder the significance of it all and how much weight a reputation actually carries.

It's unfair. Your personal life should be yours alone, and people should mind their own business. If this is the price you pay for sharing your music and being famous, you want no part of it anymore. It feels like they don't respect you as a human being.

Hot tears stream down your face as your thoughts consume you, overwhelming you completely. Seeking solace, you sink from the couch to the floor, resting your chin on your knees. It's a familiar position, offering some comfort when you're feeling low. The grounding sensation reminds you that you're still here.

Unbeknownst to you, Charles already woke up and was also reading messages from his team. He was about to greet you when he heard you sniffling. He slowly opens the door and sees you on the ground, knees to your chest, crying. Suddenly, he understands the pain you're going through. He felt awkward. He didn't know whether to comfort you or pretend to go back to bed.

But Charles can't resist the sight of your shattered state. He pushes the door open fully and gazes at you, broken and vulnerable. His heart shatters alongside yours. Slowly, he approaches and sits in front of you, taking in the magnitude of your pain. You're startled, having forgotten he was sleeping in the other room. You wonder if he knows what you're crying about, if he's seen the internet already, but the thought pushed back behind your head when a pair of warm, gentle hands cups your face, thumbs trying to wipe away your tears.

"What's wrong, mon ange?" he asks softly.

"Everything. The things they say about me... they're so mean. They're ruining my name, my reputation..." You manage to utter between sobs.

"Shh.. I know, cheri. But I don't care about what they write, alright? I want to know you. The real you." He comforts you. Running his hand up and down your arm as you find solace in his comforting embrace.

For the next ten minutes, you pour your heart out to him, releasing your pent-up emotions. When Charles senses that you had calmed down, he fetches the water bottle from the table and hands it to you. You finish it in one go.

"Feeling a little better now?" He offers, his considerate nature shining through. You smile and nod, appreciating his thoughtfulness.

"Have you eaten anything yet?" he asks, showing his concern for your well-being. You shake your head for a no.

“Do you feel like going downstairs, or should we order room service?" Going for a walk would be refreshing, and it might help improve your mood, but given that you've just bared your soul to him, you don't feel like going out. More importantly, you remember that you'll encounter numerous people and potentially face unwanted attention when you're seen again with Charles.

"We? You don't have to stay here with me. I feel better already." You face him, pulling away from his embrace. You instantly regret it as you start to feel cold already, missing the warmth of his body against yours.

"And I'm not leaving until you feel your best again. So, restaurant or room service?" He asks again. God, he is even more hot when he's stern... and caring about my well-being, of course.

Considering your current state, you prefer the comfort of staying within the confined space of your room, cuddled up next to him. "Room service, please."

↠ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ˢᵒⁿᵍ 𝐢 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬

[imaginesfordifferentfandoms]

Not Leaving You

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Prompt - "You need to leave."

Requested - anon

The Doctor never said more about his past than he had to. Most of the people who travelled with him never asked too many questions, too caught up in the life that came with knowing the Doctor to ask about who he really was. When they did ask he gave them just enough to stop asking. 

He didn’t know what was different about you. When you asked he found he didn’t mind sharing a part of himself with you, a part of himself that nobody else knew. He couldn’t say for sure why because it ached his hearts terribly to talk about a life long gone but it was a little bit easier with you at his side.

You were a curious thing too, he’d lost count of how many times he’d lost you, you wandering off, too distracted by something or other and ready with a million and one questions by the time the Doctor finally did find you.

He knew sooner or later you’d be curious about him too, once you found out he had two hearts that had taken up about a week’s worth of conversation, you asking questions about Time Lords and what else was different about them, not knowing that there were no more Time Lords out there and missing the sad look that the Doctor forced off his face.

He had taken you to a planet he had found many, many years ago, one that made his chest feel warm and a smile pull on his face as you repeated the name after him, the word Zirafell sounding as beautiful as the planet itself coming from your lips. He had never shown it to anyone before but there was something so extraordinarily different about you that he wanted to share all his hiding spots and secrets with you.

The two of you were sitting in the field, the TARDIS parked not too far away. The grass was littered with little pink and blue flowers and a lilac lake glistened under the two suns in front of you.

“Where are you from anyway?” You asked softly, breaking the peaceful silence that had settled between you causing the Doctor to look at you in surprise but you kept your gaze on the lake.

“Me? Oh nowhere really.” The Doctor answered after a few beats of silence, watching as a frown pulled at your face.

“Everyone’s from somewhere.” You told him, finally turning to face him and seeing the discomfort on his face. You wondered whether to push it but before you could decide the Doctor spoke again.

“Not me. Not anymore.” The Doctor sighed and you stayed silent for a moment, just looking at him.

His gaze was on something just passed your shoulder, refusing to look at you as his mind played memories from long before you could even imagine. You wanted to know what he was thinking about though, wanted to know what put that sort of look on a person's face. 

“You could always go back home.” You told him, keeping your voice soft.

The Doctor looked back at you, a sad smile spreading across his face. You hadn’t seen that smile in a while, of course you’d seen it plenty when you’d first met him. A sad man sitting alone looking like his whole world had fallen apart around him and there was nothing he could do about it.

It took some time but eventually he told you about the people he’d lost and how travelling with him was dangerous. He had told you he’d take you home, that he’d understand if you wanted to leave but you just wrapped your arms around him, pulling him in for a hug, smiling into his chest when he gripped you tight.

“Not even I can do that.” The Doctor laughed softly, no amusement in it as he turned to look out at the lake. He never wanted to talk about it, about all that pain and suffering, about what he had done and yet sat here with you, he wanted you to know that sad, angry, lonely part of him. 

“My home’s long gone, Y/N.” The Doctor said after a long silence where you had figured he wasn’t going to share anything with you. “It was a beautiful place, you’d have loved it. I’d love to have shown you. The Time Lords, my people, the universe was so much brighter with them in it. People would cheer when they saw one and now, now they’re gone, my planet’s gone.”

“What happened to it?” You asked, voice barely above a whisper as you looked at him, his eyes glazed over. 

“There was a war.” He told you, swallowing around a lump in his throat. “It doesn’t matter, but nobody won that day. Nobody ever really wins I suppose. Everyone died. Everyone but me.”

When you first saw the Doctor, before you knew who he was, you just referred to him as the sad man. Watching him now you couldn’t think of a better way to describe him, the sad man, the sad man who was all alone in the universe, the sad man who had lived through the destruction of his whole planet, his whole race.

The sad man with a magical box who spent his life bringing hope everywhere he went.

“The last of the Time Lords.” You murmured, remembering what a woman from several months back had hissed to him, at the time the Doctor brushed it off when you asked questions, now you knew why. 

“The last of the Time Lords.” The Doctor agreed just as quietly and neither of you said anything else, there was nothing left to say so you rested your head on his shoulder, his coming to rest on top of yours as the two of you stared ahead at the lilac water.

From that day onwards you and the Doctor were closer than ever, he shared more of his life with you and you found yourself falling a little bit more for the man as each day passed. It was a dangerous thing to do, falling in love with the Doctor and yet you let yourself fall, not bothering to question if he would catch you but enjoying the fall while it lasted.

You felt closer with the Doctor than you had with anyone you had known back home, not a single day went by where you regretted leaving, regretted choosing the Doctor over your old life. You knew you’d make the same choice over and over again. You could never give the Doctor up.

Months passed since that day, months where you and the Doctor would spend your nights floating through the galaxy, legs hanging over the TARDIS door as the Doctor told you about the different stars and planets that surrounded you with such fondness, months were he took your hand in yours and you couldn’t help but smile, savouring the feeling of his thumb running softly across the back of your hand as he pulled you along, tugging you back to him when you went to wander off. Months were you and the Doctor traded secrets in the quiet of the night, things that you’d never have dreamed of sharing with anyone else and yet knowing the whispered words were safe with each other.

“You’ll love this one, Y/N/N!” The Doctor told you with an excited grin on his face, hurrying you to put your coat on causing you to laugh before he finally grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the TARDIS, pausing long enough to lock the box before the two of you were off.

“Welcome to Thucruiruta.” The Doctor beamed at you and you couldn’t help the gasp that escaped you as you finally looked around.

The planet was beautiful, the sky was golden and all sorts of creatures were moving around you, so many things demanded your attention and the thing that won it was the Doctor squeezing your hand.

“It’s beautiful, Doctor.” You breathed out, watching as the Doctor’s grin softened and you didn’t even try and stop yourself from smiling back, leaning into him before letting him lead the way.

The Doctor was eager to show you everything, used to your curiosity and the hundreds of questions you came up with, more than happy to show off and answer them, making his way through the stands and insisting you try all the different foods on display. 

It was hard to imagine such a perfect day taking a turn but you had also gotten used to trouble following the Doctor by now, so when an explosion sounded not too far in the distance you immediately turned to the Doctor, waiting for him to do something.

It didn’t take him more than a second to grab your hand, pulling you into the heart of the danger and you went along with him willingly. You knew you always would, you never gave it a second thought, you knew that you would always follow the Doctor no matter where he went.

You gasped as you took in the scene, people were scattered all over the floor, some crying out and others not moving at all. You gripped the Doctor’s hand in yours and he squeezed back before moving further into the chaos, looking around for some clue as to what had happened.

There was a child on the floor, a deep cut in their green skin as blue blood poured from it. You pulled your hand from the Doctor’s and made your way to the child’s side as the Doctor pulled the sonic screwdriver out to try and find what had caused the explosion. 

“You alright?” You asked softly, pulling your jacket off and using a sharp bit of rubble to rip the end of your shirt in lieu of a bandage. 

“Hurts.” The kid whimpered and you gave her an encouraging smile, warning her it might sting as you tied the torn material around her arm as tightly as you could.

“Good job, that’ll be good until we can get you to your family.” You told her standing up and holding a hand out for her, pulling her up by her uninjured arm and looking around. “Where was your family?”

You watched as she pointed the way you had come from, away from where the explosion was and you glanced over your shoulder to see the Doctor glaring down at the sonic, a furious expression you couldn’t ever remember seeing on his face that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Come on then, let’s see if we can find them.” You said, pulling your gaze from the Doctor and forcing the uneasy feeling you suddenly felt in the pit of your stomach away, leading the young girl away from the scene.

Even in the sea of screams and shouts for friends and family you managed to find the young girl's family quite easily, her mum falling to her knees and wrapping her arms around her daughter, mindful of her arm after she winced. 

You stayed long enough for the family to thank you tearfully and the girl to hug you before you pushed your way through the crowd and looked around for the Doctor, frowning when you couldn’t see him.

You made your way further into where the explosion had gone off, gasping when something sharp dug into your arm, looking to your left to see a tall figure beside you, sharp teeth visible as the thing grinned down at you and pushed you forward, dragging you alongside it and not even pausing as you fought back against it.

There was a slimy sort of wet texture to the creature and you couldn’t stop yourself from wincing as it’s nails drew blood from you, the thing snarling the whole time until it pushed you onto the floor and you were staring at sharper nails and blue feet, looking up to see more than a dozen of the things standing together.

“Let her go.” The Doctor’s voice sent a wave of relief through you and your head snapped around to look at him. “Now.”

The Doctor’s voice was cold, so devoid of any emotion that it scared you. The creatures, however, didn’t seem at all phased by him and instead laughed at the Doctor.

“The Doctor always was too fond of the humans.” One of the creatures laughed, sending a wave of spit flying from his mouth. “Too bad he can never save his precious little pets.”

That seemed to hit a nerve with the Doctor and you had heard the stories of his past companions, of how much danger they had been put in simply by being with him. You knew it was scarred on his two hearts, every loss, every defeat, every life lost, every life he blamed himself for.

“The Doctor’s not good at saving anybody.” Another one called, amusement clear in its voice, “Poor little Doctor, all alone, no Time Lords around anymore.”

The creatures all laughed together and you winced as you watched fury take over the Doctor. It seemed these creatures had history with the Doctor, at the very least they knew exactly what buttons to press to tear him apart.

The Doctor looked different, he didn’t look like the Doctor you had seen every day, he looked like a whole different person. Cold fury in his eyes, mouth set in a thin line and his knuckles bone white from the grip he had on the sonic.

“You will let her go and you will leave this planet.” The Doctor told them, voice low and commanding the attention of everyone.

You could only stare at him, fear in your eyes, not sure who you were more afraid of in that moment. Usually you could read the Doctor easily, always seeming to know what his next step was but right then, in that moment you didn’t know what he was going to do.

“Or what, Doctor?” One of them spat but you didn’t bother looking behind at them, keeping your gaze on the Doctor. “The last time we met you were a coward, what’s changed?”

“What’s changed?” He shot back, taking a step forward and you felt your breath catch in your throat at his tone. “What’s changed? The last time I showed you mercy. That was a mistake. I won’t make the same one twice. Now leave.”

“Or what?” It asked again, tone hard as the creatures refused to move.

“Or I’ll burn this entire planet with you on it.” The Doctor said without hesitation and your eyes widened, staring at him in shock.

“You wouldn’t, the Doctor wouldn’t harm innocents, not in the name of revenge.” One of them laughed but it sounded nervous, like it didn’t believe its own words and looking at the fury on the Doctor’s face you had to agree with it.

“Do you really want to test that theory?” The Doctor asked, the silence stretching as the creatures all looked at each other. “All I have to do is press this button and you’ll be dead before you realise it.”

The Doctor held the sonic up and you shook your head, not that he was looking at you but you couldn’t believe him. He wasn’t bluffing, he wasn’t improvising whilst he came up with a plan to deal with this without harming anybody. He was being deadly serious.

You were terrified of the man before you. He wasn’t the Doctor, not the Doctor you knew anyway.

“Liar!” A creature yelled and the Doctor gave it an unimpressed look before going to press the button but you stood up before he could.

“Don’t!” You shouted, reaching a hand out like one would around a scared animal, locking eyes with the Doctor for the first time since you’d been pushed onto the floor. “Don’t.”

“Y/N, you don’t know what these are.” The Doctor told you, his thumb hovering dangerously close to the button on the sonic. 

“I don’t care. This isn’t you, you’re the Doctor! People look to you for hope, you’re not a murderer, don’t do this! Don’t become them.” You pleaded with him but his face was still set with cold fury and you feared there was no changing his mind.

“Get to the TARDIS and don’t look back.” He instructed and you immediately shook your head.

“No.” You told him. “No, I’m not letting you do this. There are millions of innocent people on this planet and you will not destroy them for whatever grudge you’re holding.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, you need to leave. Now get on the TARDIS, Y/N!” The Doctor snapped and you felt tears sting your eyes but held your ground.

“No. If you’re going to burn this planet you’ll do it with me on it.” You said, voice shaking as tears made their way over your eyes, hating that you didn’t know what the Doctor was going to do.

“Get on the TARDIS.” The Doctor commanded through gritted teeth but you shook your head again.

“I already told you I’m not leaving.” You told him, blinking away the tears as they carried on running down your face.

The Doctor held your gaze, the small part of him that wasn’t consumed with anger and hatred felt guilt and hurt as you looked at him like you were terrified, like he was the monster instead of the creatures behind you. 

“Leave.” He spat out, not taking his gaze of you as he addressed the creatures. “Get off this planet and if I ever see you again I won’t show a shred of mercy.”

The creatures wasted no time scurrying away, hurrying over to their ships and taking off just as quickly, leaving you and the Doctor staring at each other. Just as the Doctor opened his mouth, you cut him off.

“Take me home.” You told him, suddenly feeling drained.

“Y/N,” he sighed but you just shook your head at him, moving past him and making your way back towards where the TARDIS was parked, using your key to unlock the box and letting yourself in.

The Doctor sighed to himself, rubbing a hand across his face before pocketing the sonic and following after you, desperately trying to think how he could salvage this. He hadn’t wanted to let himself fall for you but over the year and the months you’d spent at each other’s side he couldn’t help it.

Now he was losing you because he had held onto a grudge from so many years back.

The anger had taken over him to the point he couldn’t control himself but you could, you stopped him even when he didn’t think he could be stopped.

When he walked into the TARDIS you were sitting in one of the chairs, looking away from him as he quietly worked on setting a course for Earth, hoping you would change your mind before you got there.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, watching you closely. He could tell you were listening but you didn’t say anything. 

“Those creatures, Y/N…” He trailed off and you finally looked over at him, seeing him take a deep breath before he spoke again. “Those creatures are called Eelvo’s. I met them a long time ago, long before I had this face. I lost somebody because of them and I let them go.”

“You don’t kill people.” You told him, your voice quiet but firm and the Doctor sighed as he came and sat next to you. 

“I have bad days, Y/N. Days where I am not a good man.” The Doctor told you, ashamed of himself, ashamed that you had seen him like that. He had never wanted that.

“Doctor, today I was more scared of you than any of those other things.” You said softly, glancing at the Doctor as he shut his eyes and swallowed thickly around a lump in his throat, fighting back tears.

The last thing he had ever wanted was for you to be scared of him.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I’m so, so sorry. I don’t know what happened, seeing them again after so long, seeing the destruction they were still causing, the pain and lives they were still taking…” The Doctor trailed off, a single tear making its way down his cheek.

You sighed softly, reaching over to take his hand in yours and giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. You were still unsure, still hadn’t liked seeing the Doctor so furious but he was still the Doctor, he was your Doctor again and seeing him in pain was the last thing you wanted.

“I’m sorry, Y/N/N, I never wanted you to hate me.” He whispered, his voice breaking around the words and you felt your heart break with them.

“I don’t hate you, Doctor.” You told him honestly, “I’ve never seen you like that and I didn’t like it but I don’t hate you. I’m not sure I could ever hate you.”

The Doctor smiled over at you sadly and you returned it, squeezing his hand again.

“I’ll take you home.” He whispered and you frowned, you had asked him to take you home but the thought of actually leaving the Doctor behind sent an ache through you.

“How about Zirafell instead?” You asked him, a small smile pulling at your lips as he looked over at you in surprise. 

“You sure?” He asked, a hopeful note in his voice and you nodded, watching as his shoulders lost the tension in them and he let out a small breath, nodding himself before standing up and moving around the console to change the course, hoping that the two of you would be alright. 

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Thank you so much for reading!

[writing-for-life]

The Sandman Overture and Exiles: Omnia Mutantur, Nihil Interit

Everything Changes, Nothing Is Truly Lost—Not Even Hope

There once was a little girl (well, not a human girl) known by the name Hope Beautiful Lost Nebula, egg-daughter of Clearly who died in childbirth, sperm-daughter of Troubling World who was murdered by reavers. She is one of the most meaningful characters of the whole Sandman, so why does fandom hardly talk about her, not even those who have read the comics?

Understanding Hope, her story and her connection to Dream, is more or less understanding the entirety of The Sandman, and that's why I want to write about Hope and hope.

This contains major spoilers for Overture, Exiles and the ending of the Sandman, so if you’d rather not, this is your exit sign…

Pictures often speak louder than words, so I would like to start with these [I will add Alt text gradually, it’s a lot]…

If you haven't read Overture, you would not know that the words Dream speaks in Hell when he wins the Oldest Game are a direct mirror of Hope's words, down to repeating "I am...". It is not a sudden epiphany about how to win—it is a memory.

How much Morpheus truly remembers about the universe before the reset in Overture—it is something we cannot know for certain, and we have discussed it on here many, many times. I personally lean towards his remembering a lot more than we might think, and I've written about it in other metas before, e.g. here (super long with many tangents) or here. The narration is unreliable on this, because Desire in cat-form says in Overture that “there won’t be anything to remember”, but also that Dream will be “the only one to remember”. But whether he remembers every detail, or whether it is exactly the way Glory states in the above panel and it’s just that Hope's name is there for him when he needs it most, is secondary. What matters is that he does remember (side-note: It also matters because Dream promised her himself. And he never goes back on a promise, for better, for worse).

The above conversation with Glory is often taken as proof that there is no hope in the new universe, and by extension, the whole of the Sandman turns into a story with a hopeless ending. But in my opinion, that isn’t true. Yes, as a mortal being, Hope does not exist in the universe we are now in. But two very specific panels in Overture are directly contradicted by what happens in the later arcs of The Sandman:

The Star says here, after Hope's above statement that she is not nothing, that she is Hope, "As if saying that might ever change something." [And the Star’s tone is equally mocking than that of Lucifer Morningstar when they say, “What are you then, Dream Lord?”, but that just as an aside.]

And since Hope is killed in the very next panel (because Time pulled Dream out of that situation, so he wasn't able to protect her anymore. Who needs parents, right?), we might be inclined to believe this.

But by now, we all know that the Star is WRONG. These are not "three words that mean nothing." Once again:

And also this (I couldn’t find a gif with the bit where she says, “I will never give up hope,” but we all know she does say these words):

What else makes Dream/s prevail in Hell, what else are the dreams Morpheus speaks about here than hopes?

The Star is directly proven wrong. And so are we if we assume that Hope’s spirit doesn’t exist anymore. Because hope as a concept, hope as the thing that Morpheus remembers when he fights Lucifer/Choronzon in Hell, still exists. Even though this was said in the old universe before the reset, it DOES mean something. It DOES change something. Because Morpheus remembers.

Remembering Hope means to have hope.

And if we believe there isn’t any H/hope, we are also directly proven wrong by Time, who tells us that there will always be a universe in which Hope (the being) exists, and that there will always be one in which she doesn’t. And they, in a way, exist simultaneously. So even in a universe without Hope, her spirit, her memory, prevails. That is not a universe entirely without hope.

And that is also our tie-in to Exiles, because Morpheus and Daniel also exist simultaneously. Omnia mutantur, nihil interit—everything changes, nothing is truly lost.

Morpheus has moved on, but he still exists—in story, in memory of those who cared about him, in Daniel!Dream, in the “Soft Places” at the fray where reality and dreams meet. And it is exactly what H/hope is in the Sandman universe—it keeps on existing: In stories, in memories, in the “soft places”. Because to hope means to love, and to love means to hope.

Sometimes, you need to find hope…

Sometimes, she needs a bit of coaxing. Sometimes, hope means not to forget, so you keep going and remember what truly matters…

Sometimes, we lose her, and even Hope loses memory of who she was, but we can be reminded…

Hope might transform, but she never truly disappears in The Sandman.

On that note: I totally understand the attachment to Morpheus as a character. He is my favourite character, too. I cried buckets when I first knew what was going to happen (decades ago I dare say, and not at the end of The Kindly Ones, but during World’s End). And I think it is totally legitimate to want him to survive. Part of me does, too. It is a bit baffling to assume that people who read the story with acceptance and find meaning in it don’t care enough about Morpheus as a character to want him to survive, and that they are even a bit stupid for thinking The Sandman’s underlying message is one of hope. I don’t know many people who aren’t heartbroken in one way or another. But the story had to end the way it ended because it is not just about Morpheus and humanising him.

I often feel that by clinging to his character and person alone, we are losing sight of the deeper meaning, and we are closing our eyes to all the messages that are there, in plain sight, if we just let them speak to us:

The Sandman is not simply a story about Morpheus. He is the protagonist (even that could be argued), but he is also a vessel for the meaning and power of change, for letting go instead of clinging to what doesn’t serve us (and isn’t it ironic that by desperately wanting him to live and getting upset about the fact he doesn’t, we are doing exactly that instead of leaning into catharsis that actually has the potential to bring on change in us?).

Dream does not die because Dream cannot die. He changes. What dies is a point of view (symbolised by Morpheus). That’s it. That is the message. Omnia mutantur, nihil interit.

Hope is not gone. Not in this universe or in any other. Her spirit prevails. Because when she calls you out, when she touches you, you remember what matters:

“I’m not,” he says after thinking for a hot second, and proceeds to do exactly that regardless.

She touches him, she holds his hand, and calls him out.

She touches him, she holds his hand, and he is honest with himself, for once.

Hope touched Dream, but did she touch Desire in the same way? I already wrote about it here, and I think in certain ways, she did:

Hope prevails…

Hope is what saved the universe in the first place.

Hope is what Morpheus remembers when it matters.

Hope is what Nada finds again in A Hope in Hell after she gave up hope in Tales in the Sand.

Hope is what drives Unity and ultimately lets Rose survive.

Hope springs eternal in people like Rosemary who are willing to help and overcome their own fears. And in the TV series, that hope gets rewarded, and that’s important (I am glad they made that change).

Hope is even what drives Morpheus, but to see that, we need to take our eyes off only focusing on his having hope for himself, his having hope for his point of view (that does not serve him or anyone else, and he knows). If that’s the hope we’re looking for, we won’t find it. No, that’s not entirely true either. Because again, Dream can’t die. But the true reason is:

Morpheus is bigger than that. The story is bigger than that.

He has hope for humanity and sentient beings that are under his purview—what else are dreams but hopes? And Morpheus as the “point of view” understands that said point of view needs to make space for a better, kinder, more human (for lack of better term—human=/=man but human=with humanity) Dream to exist. And said Dream comes into existence with Daniel, but he also still contains all that was Morpheus. See it as having learned from experience and moving on with a new point of view instead of letting our hurt define us and holding on to it indefinitely. It is something we recommend in real life all the time—why can’t we find it in this story? Because it is right there, again, in plain sight: Omnia mutantur, nihil interit.

I am not saying this is how you have to see it. But I am saying that engaging with the story on this level makes it easier to come to terms with an ending that is commonly interpreted as hopeless because we can't see the forest for the trees.

Hope is hope. And she saved the universe and us. Not just once, but many times over. The new universe isn’t the hopeless, sad universe. The old one was. The new one has hope because it keeps existing. With Hope’s spirit and a Dream who has changed…

[alilixx]

Heard that requests are open so I thought I could give my women cuddy some love HAHA,, how about, for smut, cuddy being stressed with hospital management issues so you voluntarily help her relax by eating her out in her office ;) a spicy funny plot you could consider is that, reader had an infatuation with house, but house being house, rejected them, so reader is infatuated and persues cuddy and cuddy gives reader a chance. When reader and cuddy is done with their little eat out sess, house walks in. You could put in some house-ass dialogue like “This place smells like sex” and reader sassily replying “What? You jealous?” tryna get back at him HAHA,, honestly yea, have fun with this request, change the plot, add more, just have fun !! I’m just really glad people are writing for cuddy

I love your request, i will do it with PLEASURE!

You still remember that evening with unsettling clarity, as if it were yesterday. You had met in that small, intimate restaurant, chosen for its cozy ambiance and refined dishes. House was on time, which was an accomplishment in itself.

From the start, the conversation flowed easily. House, with his sharp mind and usual sarcasm, led the discussion. You were fascinated, hanging on his every word, trying to follow the thread of his labyrinthine thoughts.

Then, things started to go awry. Maybe it was when you mentioned your admiration for his work while adding that his methods were sometimes controversial. House raised an eyebrow, a smirk on his face. He began asking more personal, more invasive questions. It was his test, and he showed no mercy.

"So, you think my methods are controversial? What makes you so sure of your judgments?" he had shot back. Every answer seemed like a trap, a new subject for him to analyze.

You tried to defend yourself, explaining that you respected his ingenuity but also believed in traditional medical ethics. House listened to you, or rather let you talk, waiting for you to entangle yourself in your own contradictions.

Then, without warning, he abruptly cut the conversation short. "You know, you are interesting, but not enough for me to want to extend this evening. I appreciate the effort, really, but this isn't what I'm looking for."

You were left speechless, the raw truth hitting you hard. Without even tossing a bill for the check, House stood up and, without a backward glance, left the restaurant.

Left alone, your thoughts swirled. The evening you had so eagerly anticipated had turned into one of those stinging memories. Going out with Gregory House was no small feat; it was an ordeal, a battle of wits where you had failed.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

It was a few months after that memorable incident with House, and now you were engaged to Cuddy. You wanted her to be your wife, to share the same name, whichever that might be. You just wanted to show that she was taken, as a femme fatale like her often attracted attention, and it sparked your jealousy. Of course, you said nothing because she rebuffed them or you defended her when some were too persistent, but you had faith in her power and authority.

You were the only one who could help her in the evenings when she came home tired, sick, or sad. And that was worth its weight in gold. Unfortunately, Cuddy's stress had significantly increased. She often sent you messages asking to discuss, have lunch, and other things, but over time, these solutions were no longer enough. You had to negotiate for… sex. She was initially against it, but she eventually relented, though only in private places like an examination room. She enjoyed it a lot, so you continued in various locations. Up to her office.

She enjoyed the thrill of risk, and she knew how to stay stoic. So, it wasn’t a problem for you to tend to her intimate areas while she worked, at least until House walked in.

That day, you were in her office. Cuddy was sitting at her desk, her legs slightly parted under the table, and you were kneeling in front of her. She wore a pencil skirt that, when lifted, revealed elegant yet practical underwear. You gently pushed the fabric aside to access her intimacy, your fingers and tongue exploring every inch of her delicate skin. She kept one hand on your head, guiding you gently while nervously tapping on her keyboard with the other hand.

Cuddy was a master of control, but you could feel her body reacting to your touches. Her breath grew shorter, and her thighs instinctively tightened around your head. You loved the feeling of driving her wild with desire while knowing she had to remain calm and composed. The contrast between her stoic face and what you were making her feel below was incredibly exciting.

Suddenly, the door opened and House walked in, without knocking. You immediately felt Cuddy’s legs close around your head, hiding you from his view. "I see you’re busy," he said with a smirk, unfazed.

Cuddy, despite her compromising position, remained composed. "Greg, this is really not the time. Leave," she replied, her voice calm but firm.

House, still nonchalant, didn’t seem in a hurry to leave. "Interesting choice of office for a private consultation," he remarked, glancing around the room. Finally, with a final pointed look, he turned and left, closing the door behind him.

Cuddy gently released you, her breath still rapid. "We need to be more careful," she murmured, her tone a mix of reproach and relief. You nodded, understanding the need for discretion. Despite the risk, you knew these moments of intimacy were essential for her, for both of you.

You resumed your touches, more softly this time, sensing that she was relaxing again. She placed her hands on your face, guiding you to where she needed you most. You could feel her tension dissipate, her pleasure rising once more. And this time, nothing and no one would interrupt this moment of pure connection between the two of you.

This wasn’t the first time House had tried to negotiate a threesome or used this situation to unsettle you, but neither you nor Cuddy reacted to his provocations. He had been coming into Cuddy’s office more frequently, using this leverage to get what he wanted. One day, not seeing her just before a meeting, he knew where to look. He headed to a storage area and watched from a distance. Cuddy was lying on a cart while you were playing with her, neither of you having noticed him.

To reward him, you suggested placing a vibrator on her during the meeting. Her reaction was unanimous: "No." But with some pleading and a few kisses here and there, she eventually relented. You were thrilled to tease her, as that was all you planned to do. Throughout the meeting, she felt vibrations in her intimate areas, but she never reached her peak, as coming during a meeting would almost certainly cost her job, so you intended only to torment her.

Cuddy was seated at the conference table, surrounded by her colleagues, maintaining a stoic expression while the vibrator, controlled remotely by you, sent gentle pulses at irregular intervals. You watched discreetly from the back of the room, savoring every micro-expression that betrayed her pleasure. Seeing her tense up at times, watching her breath catch, was the most exquisite sight.

At one point, she met your gaze, her eyes shimmering with a mix of challenge and desire. You slightly increased the intensity, watching her tense up a bit before regaining control. You knew that the tension between professional duty and personal pleasure excited her just as much as it did you.

The meeting ended without major incident, but you knew Cuddy was on the verge of exploding. When she returned to her office, you were waiting there, a satisfied smile on your lips. "You're amazing," you whispered, kissing her softly. She responded with restrained fervor, her hands gripping your waist firmly.

"You too," she replied, her voice husky with desire. "But now, it's time to finish what you started." And with no further preamble, she pushed you against the desk, determined to regain control of the situation. Her expert hands roamed your body, each touch sending waves of shivers through you. You shared deep, passionate kisses, your bodies pressing against each other with palpable urgency.

Cuddy pushed you onto the desk, her lips never leaving yours. Her skilled fingers quickly found their way to your vagina, causing you to moan uncontrollably. She knew exactly how to drive you wild, each movement, each gesture calculated to bring you to the brink of ecstasy. With her deep, sensual voice, she simply said, "Control your moans, my love, no one must hear you." You placed your hand over your mouth to stifle the sounds, but Cuddy had other plans, using her mouth to kiss you and swallow every one of your moans.

You were in perfect harmony, each sensation amplified by the risk and excitement of your environment. Cuddy took her time, savoring every moment, every reaction of your body beneath hers. She loved seeing you succumb to her touches, and you surrendered, relishing the intense and intimate connection.

The tension built up to a crescendo, each second bringing you closer to the point of no return. You were alone, lost in this bubble of pleasure, forgetting everything else. The outside world ceased to exist; there were only the two of you, bound by this burning, insatiable desire. You came on her hand, and a few seconds later, you saw her licking her fingers with your taste on them, which made you blush, and her response was a simple wink.

[scribblemetae]

For the first time

Warnings: Sub!Soobin, Soft!dom reader, love, fluff, smut, inexperienced Soobin, first time together, Soobin wears a collar with your name on it, desperate Soobin, oral (m and f), pantie sniffing, ownership, you're both just getting a feel of each other intimately, unprotected sex, cream pie, whiney Soobin.

A/N: This is a complete re-write of an old story that I wrote. Whilst I was looking at my old works I loved the story for this one but hated how I had written it and dont think it fit the person id writen it for as much as I would have liked it to so I went back, got a feel of the story and this is what came up with, its basically the same plot but completely re-written with Soobin in mind.

This is the first story I've posted in so long, so I'm scared, I hope you enjoy it.

Word Count: not exact but around the 9k mark (will add when I'm not on my phone)

Soobin was the sweetest person you'd ever met, you'd been friends with him for about a year now and in a relationship with him for a month. His cheeks were bright red as he asked you to be his girlfriend while you were sat with him and his friends watching a movie, it's almost like he forgot everybody was around until they all started celebrating that he'd finally asked.

Since then It's been a month of cute dates, romantic nights and some of the sweetest memories that help you through the day when he's not around. Honestly he was the perfect man and sometimes you thought he was born just so one day he could come around and make you the happiest girl in the world.

You'd never felt so close to somebody after only a year, and there was only one thing that you could think of that could make you both closer, and that was sex. The two of you had never had sex with each other before. In-fact, you'd never touched him sexually at all.

Not long after you first started dating Soobin told you all about his first time, he was happily in a relationship and then just after losing his virginity to his then girlfriend she cheated on him leaving with all kinds of personal hang ups about relationships and sex. You didn’t care, you would wait a lifetime if it meant he would be comfortable but that didn’t mean you weren’t human. You had sexual urges and you wanted to share them with him. You wanted to share the intimacy of having him close to you and share himself with you. 

He wasn’t completely closed off, he had talked about sexual things with you. He mentioned his preference for being submissive and being dominated from what he gathered from his porn preferences, and how he loved being praised and called a good boy. He talked about how he loved going down on you and getting off at the idea of providing pleasure. In-fact this was something he was so sure and content about that he’d done it a few times, He’d taken your pleasure into his hands and mouth, the both of you loving every second of it. 

The both of you had such healthy communication that you knew nothing could go wrong. You were lucky, you had somebody who was able to have a conversation with you about something he wasn’t even one hundred percent sure about himself.

Due few times the two of you had been intimate, with him only touching you, he managed to find a confidence within himself, so much so that his comfort with you increased and he bought himself a collar with your name on. When he first introduced you to it he explained that it was his to wear when he went down on you, wearing a collar and you claiming ownership of his was something he'd talked about possibly liking to you in the past, and this was his was of allowing himself to dip his toe into a submissive role. The gentle face and the blush on his cheeks could only be compared to an indescribable beauty, and the clenching you felt in your centre when he took it out to show you how he looked in it for the first time was hard to ignore.

Once you managed to shake your head out of the fluffy daydream and stopping yourself reminiscing on your relationship you realised you were still at work and it had only been about 10 minuets since you last looked at the time. The day had been considerably normal when it came to work, but when you checked your phone it turned out that when it came to Soobin and the texts he was sending you through-out the day, things seemed a little off. Not off in a bad way, but in a different kinda way. He was usually very caring and loving in his messages, asking how your day was going and if you needed anything but this time they seemed a little bit blunt. 

‘Can I come round tonight?’

‘What time will you be home?’

‘Do you want food?’

‘Will you be going to sleep straight away when you’re home?’

‘Will you be home soon?’

There was nothing wrong with these questions, all completely valid for him to ask, it was just the way he was asking that threw you off. Usually they’d be embellished with loved hearts and kisses and maybe a few little add-ons with him telling you he missed you but in these there was none of that. You knew you were being dramatic but you could feel something was off or different, not enough to worry you but enough to let in linger in the back of your mind.

"I wont be home to late Binnie don't worry, my shift finishes at 9pm so you can meet me at mine if you want to xx"

When you got back you were slightly disturbed by the lack of Soobin, he said he'd meet you here so when he's not in the living room watching TV waiting for you it was a cause for concern ,However when you make it to your bedroom everything seemed to make sense. There he was was standing in your bedroom wearing nothing but the collar around his neck and a pair of tight, black, Calvin Klein briefs, you were equal parts foaming at the mouth and struck with love and adoration. When he looked up at you and whispered a shy ‘I'm ready’ you felt a huge rush of emotions. He wanted you, he was finally ready to take that step and allow you to take over his body and his pleasure. More importantly, he was ready to trust and give himself to you.

He was looking at the floor, arm wrapped around his chest so his hand was grabbing onto his other arm. He'd managed to make himself look so small considering how tall he was. His bottom lip was stuck inside his mouth and you could tell he was nervously gnawing on it while doing everything he could to not make eye contact. You wanted to make him feel calm, let him know that if he was too nervous he didn't have to do anything but he was eager to get started. As you started to talk to him, ready to discus this before hopping into it he stuttered and moved towards you with one of his hands slightly out ready to grab yours, hoping he could rip the band aid off quickly and finally enjoy you without thinking too hard about it he politely shushed you with a smile and kissed your lips softly. You couldn’t have that though as much as you wanted to get lost in the moment with him you needed to make sure there wasnt even a shred of doubt within him. Before anything went to far you slowly had to push him away from you without making him feel bad and talk it through with him.

You didn't want to baby him, he was an adult and could make his own choices but at the same time you knew just how important this all was to him and you had to make sure he wasn’t rushing anything. It didn't take long, no more than fifteen minutes of a sweet heart to heart you knew he was ready. Nervous, no doubt, but so ready.

It's not long after that, that you’re on your knees for him in nothing but your underwear as he stands in front of you, towering above you. You wanted him to start in a position of control to try and ease him in but, he was still so visibly nervous. His eyes are on you but they’re barely open. Your hands are grazing over his thighs, nails slowly dragging down them as his legs shake slightly. You’re trying to keep every touch delicate but intentional, letting him know that you're right there. As you slowly lean forward you can’t help but start a very soft and slow trail of kisses that start from his knee to his inner thigh, faintly sticking your tongue out to lick the smooth skin that graces your lips. With each centimetre your mouth moves, Soobin's body shakes ever so slightly and a small, barely audible whimper leaves his mouth. Slowly his hand come out to your surprise roughly dug into your hair as he attempted holds himself up. The little whimpers leaving his mouth could convince anybody you were doing more than just kissing him. 

“Ah Ah, baby boy who said you could touch” He said he wanted things to be normal, keeping the dynamic the both of you had, and that included him staying more submissive and you taking a dominant role. At first you weren't sure if that was the right way to go but he insisted. You let him know that if he wanted to change it and things got to much for him, all he had to do was say so. You were still going to be careful though, he had a tendency to push himself and you had to make sure that he wasn’t doing that now. You’d take everything slow, start with teasing to get his blood pumping and keep his mind in the moment.

You bite down on the fabric of his briefs pulling on them as they snap back onto his skin and he gasps. “Let me touch you please, please” The words coming out of his mouth were music to your ears, it was strange but so sexy hearing him beg for you. If this was any other man you’d hate it, pulling your hair and ragging you around but with Soobin you know that's not why he’s doing it, he's not doing it to have power over you, he's doing it out of desperation and need, and that turns you on so much more. “Don't make me let go baby, never wanna let go”

He was already so lost in the moment, as your eyes flicked up to watch his face you could see he was a man starved of affection and attention sexually. his eyes were closed shut, almost looking like he was about to cry. So desperate and needy and the two of you hadn’t done anything yet. He was grabbing onto you and whining out so lost for breath.

He pulled your face closer towards his body trying to hold you close, accidently pushing your cheek against his restrained cock, but as soon as he felt you against him he cried out. Slowly, he started humping, feeling the friction of your face against him. You could see he was struggling to control himself when you saw how lost in the feeling.

You’d never ever had anybody act this way with you, your cunt was clenching thinking about he needy he must be to stand there rocking his hips against your face to get himself off. His head was thrown back in pleasure, and he was humping away in his own little world, cock so hard against you that you couldn't help but get more and more excited.

A loud gasp of pleasure from his lips caught your attention and you couldn't help but pull back to look up towards him, it was only then that he snapped out of his haze and realized what he had been doing.

Looking at you with eyes wide in panic “I’m sorry baby, fuck I'm so sorry baby” One of his hands untangled from your hair and reached for his neck, his fingers started to slowly touching the collar that adorned your name as he looked back towards the celling “I’m so sorry, I'm supposed to be good, but I just" He moved his hand back so he was softly stroking your cheek, but every time he looked you in the eyes while you were leaning below him he seemed to lose it just a little bit more "-fuck-” he pulls you back to him this time your lips placed against the extremely hard bulge as he started thrusting again with much less control than he had the first time “But you just feel so fucking good” 

You couldn't help but giggle at his desperation as you quickly suck his shaft through the fabric, leaving a nice wet spot on his underwear as you push him off you making him step back slightly. He only whines as you smile up at him, your hands not leaving the solid length in front of you. You’d seen his length before when he played with himself after touching you, but you’d never touched it, and you never realized just how perfectly hard he could get.

“Calm down baby, I'm not going anywhere, don't worry and I'm not mad at you, tonight is all about you.” If you had to remind him all night then you would. He might care about his sexual role but you didn’t, when more time past and your experience together grew, then you’d start punishing him. For now though, all you wanted to do was make sure he was comfortable in letting go with you.

 You shuffle your knees closer to him so you're centimetres away from his clothed member making sure to look him straight in the eyes as you stick your tongue out ready for him. The look on his face is that of a dream state. His freshly blonde hair fell forward as he looked down at you, framing his face so well that just looking at him like this was made you want to speed things up a little and give him everything. You wanted to pleasure him, you were so turned on at the idea of him finally feeling the pleasure you can give him.

“Promise?” The word from his lips soft, cascading off his tongue like a heartfelt song with the most meaningful lyrics. You knew he was referring to you saying you weren’t going anywhere. It was something he’d always been worried about, always thinking you were going to up and leave him whenever you had the chance. He was insane to think you’d leave, look at him, pretty bunny like face and tall frame matched with his sweet, caring and attentive personality hat couldn't be matched, and that's if you ignore the big, rock hard cock that made you clench your thighs while you kneeled in front of him.

For a second everything is silent. Just Soobin looking down at you, collar shining from his neck as his body was on display for you, and you, kneeling for him nearly naked at his feet. Your hands gently caressing his thigh in comfort. “I promise, Binnie'” You reassured him as you wrapped your lips around the tip of his covered cock and sucked as he gasped out for you. 

“Oh God baby, yes” his voice was loud and solid as he moaned for you and Soobin's next actions were quick as his desperation overtook him. Both of his hands dropped from your head to his own hips as he clumsily pushed his briefs down just below his ass pulling his cock free, touching it as it twitched for you. He quickly starts pumping it as he whimpers looking down at your face that is glued to the show he's putting “Own me please baby, please I’ve thought about this so much but I never though i deserved it” he stops for a second to move the hair out of your face and catch his breath “I dunno, I'm just, I'm sorry, I'm so sensitive” 

Fuck how could he look this pretty, sitting here on your knees watching him from this position, pumping his cock in front of you was mouth wateringly hot. The skin on his shaft looked so soft that all you wanted to do was feel it against your tongue. “Don't even think about it Binnie, please, just enjoy yourself baby, you’ve been such a good boy for me you deserve this” You take one hand off his cock as you replace it with your own but changing the pace so it's much slower. “You look after me so well Binnie, you’ve earned so much” 

You couldn’t help yourself, the way he was panting and moaning above you made you want nothing more than to bring him the pleasure he always strives to bring you. You lean in and place the flat of your tongue against his balls making sure to lick and suck them, giving them all your attention pulling a grunt of pleasure from him. You ran your tongue up the bottom of his shaft making him tense up and grip onto your shoulders tightly. His moans were light and airy and fuck it made you even wetter, the sound of his voice, so deep but so lost in need, it was so perfect. You look up as you drag your tongue along him and you can see the veins in his neck as he tenses, nearly bursting out of the pretty accessory around his neck. 

You’d heard Soobin being vocal before, when he touched himself but this was something you’d never witnessed. Purely his own pleasure taking over him. Pleasure that you were giving him. He would let out the softest -Ahs- mixed in with the deepest grunts as your tongue licked up and down his shaft. 

“Your tongue feels so good, feels so fucking good” Were the only grunts and groans that leave his mouth as he pants through his words “I'm really yours now"

There it was, the ownership that he'd told you he craved so much.

As you heard him moan for you, your desire only grew, wanting him to fall apart, so as your tongue once again reaches the head of his cock you decide to take the tip into his mouth. You could taste the pre-cum on your tongue and the neediness of him got you just as lost as he was. You were quick to push your lips down his shaft and Soobin couldn't help but whine out the word ‘yes’ over and over again, prolonged and stuttered.

"Fuck, ___, fuck, yes use me. This feels so fucking good. Oh shit" His words were nearly unintelligible at this point, a mix of cries, squeaks and moans and all you had to do was swallow around his cock for him to start shaking. Once again he holds your head close to his body as he starts a slow staggered rhythm thrusting into your mouth.

"No wait, stop baby, you're gonna make me cum, don't wanna cum yet" despite his words he continued using your mouth. You made sure to use your tongue and make this as wet as possible for him, you wanted the wetness on his cock to resemble what was between your legs. It was his first ever blow job from you and you were going to give him everything he could want. You were going to take away his fear of intimacy and see sex as pleasure.

“Oh my god, no please, please baby I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum" You both could have stopped him at any time. His movement was so shallow and staggered that it wouldn't take much, but the grip around the roots of your hair told you he didn't want to stop. The fact he was still using your mouth as his head fell back and moans were leaving his lips told you he never wanted this to end.

“I don't wanna cum so fast, fuck, I'm sorry, fuck I'm so sorry” His words were all but a squeak as he trust into your mouth, hitting deep this time releasing down your throat. You barely got a chance to taste it, it shot far down your throat all you could do was smile and swallow while he moaned above you.

“Don't fucking stop *oh, ugh* yes ___, yes ____, yes. Fuck!”  despite the fact he'd just lost himself to you completely he didn't stop. Once his cock stopped twitching in the back of your throat he only started to move his hips again. 

Despite it being one of the sexiest things you’d ever experienced, you try to pull away, sure that he was going to be struck by oversensitivity once his brain started working again but he didn't, he only hugged you tighter to stop you leaving.

“No please, don't stop please keep going *fuck*” he'd become insatiable with his need for you, keeping his thrusts slow so you could look up at him. Sweat had formed all over his body and he looked completely exhausted, but there was a fire in his eyes that was impossible to miss. Oh, what one glance in his eyes could do to you.

“But Binnie, you just” You pull him out of your mouth and try to reason with him. The last thing you wanted was him over-exerting himself, he'd looked after you so well that you wanted to do that for him.

“No shh, baby, please please don't wanna stop there” He slowly grabbed his length and rubbed it against your lips and you could feel that he’d managed to stop himself going completely soft after his orgasm “Please keep sucking it, keep me hard for you. I wanted to be with you, let me please”

Now you were the one rolling your eyes and grunting. His words were so sexy that it made your pussy clench around nothing. The whole point in this was that he wanted to be with you, finally share his body with you and if he was okay with continuing then you weren’t going to take that away from him or yourself. You’d never been with anybody who managed to go again straight after he’d cum but of course, Soobin could, he was just so perfect in every other way that you’re not surprised it didn’t stop when it came to his stamina.

You looked him in the eyes, opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out ready for him. Ready to give him anything. Your jaw was aching and there was drool slipping from your lips but you didn’t care. This was all about him.

His excitement takes over and you can see his small smile as he strokes your cheek, putting his cock back into your mouth and sighing loudly. This time he takes your head and moves it back and forth rather than thrusting, you can see he's trying it out looking at you quizzically while he thinks about what he prefers. He's moving your head excruciatingly slow while watching your lips around him as he smiles in relief slightly. No only was he in heaven because of your lips around him, but he was proud that he'd managed to stay hard for you. 

“Yes, fuck” His eyes didn't move from yours this time, he was usually such a sweet angel but currently he had nothing but lust radiating from his face, his entire body “I’m so hard again for you baby, you feel so good” 

He pulls you off him completely as he kneels down at your level, pushing his lips against yours and his chest pressed up against you. He moved so quickly it took you by shock, one second his cock was inside your mouth and now his lips are against yours as his arms enclosed around your body pulling you close to him. After a few seconds he delicately runs his fingers over your skin, gently gripping your left hand, using your palm to caress his chest as he slides it up towards the collar on his neck, wanting you to feel it. His other hand slowly pulled your right hand down to press against his cock.

“Look what you do to me ____, you’ve always done this to me” voice soft but kisses slightly rushed, the contrast was dizzying. His lips moved and started to kiss your neck, starting at the back of your jaw then down towards the front. He occasionally nips at your skin and you can’t help but whimper, your nipples are so hard and you wish you weren't wearing a bra so you could feel them pressing against his chest “You own me, you make me so hard and needy. You own my heart, my soul, my cock. Take it, please baby take what you own”

His words were like a drug to you, you couldn’t help but want to do everything he asked. You had no idea you'd enjoy hearing him say that you own him as much as you do. Your underwear was ruined now, all because of him. When his words were so sweet, but filthy in your ear as he touched you, you could feel your heartbeat in your pussy as your blood rushed around your body. His hands skirted around your skin feeling your hips, thighs, arms and anything he could get his hands on “Fucking use me, please baby.” This is the most demanding he’d ever sounded, his want to be owned and used making your eyes roll to the back of your head as his lips were still against your neck.

It's with that, that you let out your own growl and pushed him back slightly so he was leaning on his hands, watching you stand up, and take the rest of your clothes off. You threw your bra and underwear to the ground towards him and watched as he crawled over to you discarded panties, bringing them to his nose and smelling them right there at your feet. 

“You really do like my underwear, don’t you baby boy” This isn't the first time he’d sniffed your panties, but usually they were still on your body. He looked so pathetic when he whined over you, his behaviour was completely different now he was crying out needily for you. The contrast in his long toned body that tensed every time his sweet doe eyes cried was unbelievable.

"Can I taste you again? Please I miss it so much". How? How did he look so sweet and innocent while asking form this. You never thought any words could affect you this way. He made your head spin, it made you feel powerful and soft all at the same time and you loved every second of it. Nobody was able to make you feel this confidence, and it was that confidence that currently ran through your body allowing you to freely play around and have fun with him.

You sat back on the edge of the bed looking down at him while he was looking up at your from the floor and started slowly opening your legs. His eyes were stuck in pure bliss, wide open as you bite your lip wanting nothing more than to feel his tongue once again "You wanna eat my pussy, Binnie?"

His head nods up and down, no words coming from his lips. It's amazing how speechless you made him when he made you so loud and proud. He had so much to say when he stood above you but now, but now that he was where he wanted to be, under your control, with your body in front of him, he turned into a mess.

He shuffled on his knees towards you and started kissing up your legs, finger tips ghosting all over your thighs and calves as if you were made of glass, as if one touch could break you. You could feel each kiss get slightly heavier with each passing suck, to a point where his head was between your thighs so close to where you needed him and he was just sucking on the skin, licking it and kissing it over and over.

His hair was so beautifully framing his face as he looked up towards you, his eyes were so shiny and bright, his dimples making him look adorable even after everything the two of you had just done. He took turns looking towards your pussy and then back towards you again. He couldn't get enough of you, he wanted to drive you mad and taste what you had to give him. You just wanted him to devour you. As his face looked at you, you were confused by his frustration until you realized what he was waiting for. Permission. Something else he'd mentioned he loved the idea of.

"You can eat my pussy, baby come here" You quickly laced your hand into his hair and pulled his head towards your centre and he let out the loudest groan as he connected to your pussy making you arch your back instantly.

He was quick with his mouth, making sure to explore every part of you once again. He usually took this much slower, enjoying the moment and the pleasure he brought you but right now his tongue was all over you in long quick strokes. He made sure to touch and devour every part of your centre. You couldn't help the gasp that came out of your mouth with every messy lick and suck he delivered to you. It's been less than two minutes and your eyes are already rolling back in pleasure, his soft tongue really flicking around your clit and your folds in reckless abandon. You could feel the pleasure shooting to your toes.

He was loud and unapologetically enthusiastic, slurping on your folds as he sucked them into his mouth tightly, releasing them only to quickly reconnect with them and groan. It was so soon for your body to be shaking but you couldn’t control it, you were even letting out small laughs in between moans at the sheer surprise that your eyes were rolling back and your body was twitching.

When you looked down you could see his mouth wide open as the tip of his tongue started working on your clit and you just lost it. You tugged on his hair harder accidentally but he loved it. He couldn't help but groan out loud and place his open mouth on you, sticking his tongue inside you and wiggling it around. 

You were struggling to breath and as your eyes continued to roam down you saw how painfully hard his dick was between his legs causing you to let “Fuck, Soobin you’re so good, you love pussy so much don’t you” tumble from your lips. The immediate nod of his head at your words sent your head spinning, you needed him, and you needed him now.

You reluctantly start to pull away from him, your own body angry at your for denying him, but you needed to get fucked so badly you were getting restless. "Fuck baby, shit, come here and fuck me please" and as much as it pained you to pull away from him, you could tell it pained him more.

"No, no no come back please, just a little more" his hands grip around your hips and he moves forward so that he can keep himself attached to you "just a little more I promise"

Rather than licking you this time his tongue plunges straight into your hole again and you can't help but let the whimpers fall from your mouth. Your back finally hit the bed as you allowed yourself to get lost in the pleasure "Just wanna taste you some more."

He was a man obsessed, drunk on pussy as his whimpers left him “Love pussy” - “Love tasting your pussy” - “Wanna eat your pussy forever” His words were nothing but muffled breathless whimpers that vibrated against you and caused the tightness of your orgasm to appear. Each lick was shooting sparks up your body and as he sucks on your clit your body just shakes with pleasure.

"Fuck, Soobin I'm gonna cum" Your words were barely there, maybe even just pants at this point as you stopped thinking about anything but his mouth. How was he so fucking good at this? You could hear him moaning your name between licks and he groaned against your clit every time he sucked it making the pleasure even more intense.

"UGH, please cum, come all over my face please" This was the clearest thing he’d said at this point, his begging for your cum becoming consistent. You started to hump up against his mouth, your hips taking over and doing anything to chase your high.

"Shit baby, Binnie, you're so fucking sexy. So needy for me, shit" your moans were so loud you should have been embarrassed but you weren't, your screaming for him and everything he was doing to you. His head was between your legs, mouth and chin and even the tips of his hair completely soaked as his eyes were closed focusing on his favourite taste. His hands stayed gripped on your thighs tightly holding you in place as he drowned in your pleasure..

"Umhum, so needy, 'm so needy, need you, please cum" His words were frantic as he pulled you closer to his face, not wanting to part with you for even a second as he got you close to your high "Please cum all over me"

At his words your pleasure started bubbling and tightening in your stomach and you knew it wouldn't take you long now. With each flick of his tongue against your body you twitched little bit more "Good boy Soobin, fuck yes I'm gonna cum"

His moans matched to when you were sucking his cock, and you knew he got just as much please eating you out as he did when you went down on him. You kept moaning out loud warnings of your high approaching and that only made his tongue fuck you even faster. When one of his hands finally reached around and started to rub your clit you couldn't help but finally let it all go.

"Fuck! Soobin! Fuck, yes!" Your entire body started shaking and your legs closed tightly around his head as you rode his face through your orgasm, his whimpers only letting you know that he didn't mind one bit. Your toes curled and you completely lost control of your body and voice, back arching and straining yourself, but the pleasure that was running through you was more than you could take as you screamed out for him.

You were slow to come down for your high. It lasted a lot longer than it usually would and all you could hear was Soobin between your legs moaning out in a painstakingly needy voice "More, fuck, more don't ever wanna stop please"

You had to pull yourself away from him or he’d suck all the juices out of your body at this point. If you weren't so out of breath you’d be giggling at the desperation. This time when you moved he didn't follow. He only fell back onto his calves and basked in the moment. His bottom lip was in his mouth as his head hung back, collar round his neck looking so beautiful and shiny. His jaw was clenching as his deep breaths left his nose. 

His cock looked hard as stone as you stared at his body and you were surprised at how quickly you wanted more. Was this how he felt all the time? Needy and ready to fuck you at any point? That's how he said he always felt, even when he wasn't ready to be with you physically he didn't shy away from telling you how much he wanted you. God, it made you feel bad for him. It made you wanna give him everything if he felt like this all the time, but most of all it made you want to give yourself to him "Tell me what you want Binnie?"

His eyes darted open to look at you, who had started to rise back up onto your elbows while you checked up on him. "You, I just want you" he said while nodding his head, agreeing with his own words. 

You didn't want to take your time with him anymore. You didn't want to tease or play you just wanted the pleasure that would finally come with his cock, you’ve just cum, but your pussy feels so fucking empty you just needed to be filled "come up here and fuck me like you've always wanted to"

He was careful about his movements, standing up and crawling over your body scared that you’d change your mind at any second. He moved over you while you moved further up the bed, head now on the pillows, he was hovering above you cautiously.

"Do you want this?" You knew he did, the hardness of his cock let you know that before anything else but the careful demeanour he was showing made you want to make sure. He didn't say anything, only nodded his head quickly forgetting that he could speak.

"No baby, don't nod your head. Tell me." You needed to hear it, mainly to make sure he truly did want this, but also to selfishly allow you to indulge in his need.

"God, yes, I wanna fuck you” You weren’t expecting the strong voice that came with his words, the confidence that came out of the timid man. He lowered his body slightly and started grinding against your pussy, his firm cock pressed against your body nicely as he looked deep into your eyes “wanna fuck you so bad. Wanna fuck you non-stop and hear you cum over and over again. Wanna be good for you baby"

You knew it was mean, but the feeling of him grinding against you had your sensitive pussy gushing all over again making you want to play with him, wanted to tease him one more time before you were to fucked out to do so "Tsk tsk, you sound awfully like a bad boy to me Soobin, a very bad boy" 

The panic that set into his eyes as he placed his forehead on top of you shaking his head in defiance "No! No I'm good for you, so fucking good, only ever good"

You’re not sure what compels you to do it, but you kiss his lips as he cries out for you. A simple but deep kiss and as you pull away, you can feel him trying to keep his lips on yours but you wanna tease him just a little more.

"Good boys don't say such naughty things Binnie" you reach your hand down to grab his ass and push him against you harder moving his hips so his cock aligns with your slit and you both moan out, Soobin slightly stuttering his hips as he tries so hard to control himself.

"I know, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I'm such a fucking pervert. So perverted for you. You make me wanna cum so hard all the time" His eyes were tightly closed now as he continued to fuck against the slick lips of your pussy. You could tell he felt guilty and you knew it was time to stop, time to give him everything he wanted.

"Shhh, baby it's okay" you were soft for him as you raised your hands to his cheek pressing a quick, deep kiss to his lips. He kept going back for more kisses when you pulled away and it made it even more sweet and intimate, you’d never stop kissing him if that's what he wanted. 

His eyes opened "It is? Its it okay, I mean, for me to be naughty and perverted for you?" He was really asking, he needed you to tell him that it was okay. He was really playing into his role, possibly even losing himself into a submissive state completely. You really tried to make this no kinks attached and all romance but clearly Sobin couldn’t help himself, this is what he wanted and what he needed, and you could only oblige.

His cock was thrusting against your pussy and he still managed to make you soft, he made your heart beat faster and slower all at the same time and it would never fail to amaze you. You wanted to make him feel so good, you started to raise your hips slowly against him helping him with the friction.

"Maybe I even kinda like it when you're all perverted and pussy drunk Binnie." You could feel the wetness between your legs getting out of control covering your thighs and you pushed your head back into the pillow slightly moving your face away from him. You bite your lip and spank his ass a little, making him gasp. You grab a handful of his ass cheek and squeeze it in your hand, feeling how tense it is when he grinds on you

"Fuck please tell me you like it, need you to say it baby please" His forehead was pressed against yours now as he asked you tell him you liked him being naughty. His desperation was adorable and so fucking hot that you couldn’t keep teasing him, as much as you both loved it you needed to give him everything, all of you.

"Only if you fuck me good. Like the naughty boy you want to be, " His grinding halted as his head threw back, eyes rolling to the back of his skull, desperation seeping through his groans.

 He never thought he’d like to be called bad or naughty, his submissive side leaning more towards being good but the way you said it made it feel so scandalous that it only served to make his cock harder. He was whimpering and whining now "Yes, yes fuck" he was looking up to the ceiling as you were sure you could see tears starting to spill from his eyes. God, he was so cute like this.

You had to put him out of his misery "How do you want me, Binnie?"

"I.." Your question caught him off guard, obviously unsure of how to answer, his inexperience and need to please shining through "how do you.."

"Ah Ah,” You were quick to interject, you knew he was going to ask you how you wanted to do it, but you needed this to be about him. If he really wasn't sure then you’d help, but you knew Soobin too well. He clearly had preferences and he wasn’t scared to submit to them, you knew that he was asking due to doubt more than anything else, and you were here to eliminate all doubt from his mind “I asked how you wanted it. How does my bad boy wanna fuck me tonight?"

He was slow to crawl back onto his calves, bottom lip sucked into his mouth as he chewed on it slightly. You give him time, allow him to collect his thoughts as you could tell he was trying to ask you something, just planning on how to say it in his mind. "Can you?, erm, can you lie on your front and…"

The words got stuck in his throat a little bit, stumbling and blushing at what he was asking, first time nerves getting the better of him. "You wanna fuck me from behind?" you slowly flipped yourself around and pushed out your ass, face comfortably in the pillows as you danced your hips softly from side to side letting him enjoy the view.

"But lay flat and,... and keep looking at me, still wanna see your face. I mean, please" He was quick to interject with his shakey voice when your face hit the pillow so your head was to the side and you laid your body flat to the bed it made your heart beat fast. Even in times like this, he managed to make it romantic. You loved him so much

You looked over your shoulder, admiring the absolute sight in front of you. "Like this baby?" If you weren't so busy trying to keep your wits about you, making sure this was all perfect for him, then you know you’d have lost your mind just at the sight of him there, on his knees, trapping your legs between his, drooling over you.

"I'm ready Binnie, are you ready?" Ready was an understatement for the both of you. Your pussy was so wet, a mix of your cum and his saliva covering it, ready to be fucked. It'd been so long for you now, and as much as you didn't care how long he needed, you were desperate now he was ready.

"Can you…" his hands reach down to play with your ass cheeks, squeezing and kneading them softly his hands. He parted them slightly so he had a full view of your pussy lips and he moaned with excitement "will you tell me you want me?"

His voice was so soft and cute you could have pouted at him. He flip flops your emotions like nobody else "I want you Soobin" You matched his soft tone as you looked him in the eyes. His big, doe ones were flicking back and forth between you and your pussy.

"I want you so bad, I'm so wet for you" you're egging him on with your words, doing everything you can to make him feel special and wanted, and it worked.

Soobin had little experiance with this so he was still a little clumsy and excited. He shuffled over you, trapping your hips now slighly and started lining his cock up with your cunt.

He was teasing himself and in the process. He'd dip the head of his cock in and pull it out quickly, moaning and groaning while watching for you face contort with the feeling of being filled with just his tip for the first time.

"F" every time he dipped it in you could help but whimpering out fuck, but never managing to finish the word because he'd pull straight back out. "F" the tip of his cock was so fat it was enough to make you crazy, streching your walls so good "Fu" You didn't want to rush him, letting him do what he needed to, to enjoy this as much as he could but you were about to lose your mind. Luckily for you, so was he. "Fuck” finally you managed to get the whole word out, elongated, as he slowly slid his cock inside of you “yes, oh my god!" 

He finally pushed himself in all the way, making you relax into the pillow with your eyes closed, feeling blissful. How nice it felt to be stretched out on his cock finally, it sent you straight to heaven as your pussy started pulsing around him. You were being stretched out for the first time in what felt like years and Soobin's cock stretched you wide, you were finally fully and it was phenomenal.

"Keep watching me please" his voice was breathless as he was quick to set up a steady rhythm.  As you looked back you couldn't help the loud moan you let out. His eyes were glued to where the two of you were joined, sweat beading from his forehead as he gnawed on his bottom lip every few seconds speeding up his thrusts "watch how hard I work for you" 

Every sentence from his mouth made your pussy flutter and your eyes roll back. You loved every little perverted thing that came from his lips. His cock was deep inside you and his grip on your hips was hard as he continued pumping himself I'm and out. All you could hear was the wetness of your pussy along with the whimpers coming from Soobin.

"You" as you tried to praise him his thrusts would knock the breath out of you making you mind go slightly dumber every time "work.so.hard.for.me" you must have resembled a porn star at this point. There was something about his need to have you watch him while he fucked you that was playing with your head, only making your pussy clench and twitch harder around him. 

As your moans got louder and the pleasure got more intense you were starting to lose control of yourself and your body. Declarations of love leaving your mouth constantly "fuck, love you so much, love this so much" and your body shaking the harder he went.

Soobin's head fell back the second he heard you declarations. He was consumed with you, he was annoyed he waited so long and yet so glad he did, because this is perfect "I'm your baby boy, fuck im yours, fuck"

He starts leaning forwards, one hand running through your hair and his face was now closer to your ear, not once ruining his pace that was driving you insane "Want you to cum all over me baby please, ____ please cum for me"

"There! Yes" with the slight shift in angle he started hitting so deep, nudging your G-spot perfectly that you had to cover your mouth with your hand to stop the embarrassing screams you were letting get too loud. With one hand now grasping the pillow and one over your mouth your moans started becoming cries of pleasure.

Despite your attempts though your hand made for a weak silencer. "Binnie you're so fucking good at this" Your words were still clear, much to Soobins glee and it was obvious your orgasm was finally starting to build up again  

"Umhum, just for you ___, just for you, wanna fuck you all night and day. Wanna feel your cream all over me all the time, fuck yes, oh my god, pussy. Pussys so nice" His filthy mouth was unmatched but his constant, random moans for pussy is what was sending the constant tingles to your centre.

His face was now finally next to yours, hand still gripped in your hair, pulling your head up only slightly so you were no longer covering your mouth. The smirk on his face as he heard your moans clearer showed you that's exactly what he wanted.

"Fuck you're are a dirty little pervert aren't you?" You knew that would turn him on beyond belief judging by your prior conversation. It only spurred him to fuck you harder and faster, desperate please and cries leaving his mouth "Fuck, yes, yours"

The clench in your core when he said 'yours' fuck, you were just as into this as he was. Your orgasm maybe have been building slow due to you just having one but this started to feel more intense "Yeah, mine, my dirty little pervert"

"Cum for me, please ___ cum for me again" he was begging so hard, and if he didn't just bury his head in your neck you once again would have seen the tears pricking out of his eyes. His thrusts were becoming sloppy but hard, so hard you body was pushing itself up the bed

"Come back, come back shit, yes." Soobin's hands snaked around your body, squeezing you tight and keeping you still so he could keep hitting that spot that made you scream. You were so tightly confined against him and the bed that you felt trapped, but that only made this all feel better, Soobin was such a pleasure chaser.

"Binnie I'm cumming, I'm gonna cum so hard" Finally your orgasm hit you like a fucking brick. Your entire body shaking on his hold, pussy and legs quivering as you ride out your orgasm wave after wave after wave.

"Cream on me, yes, Fuck, cream all over me" He seemed equally as blissed out as you did. You were held so tightly in his arms that you could barely move when your senses came back to you

You went slightly limp as he shifted himself upwards, sitting up and looking down at you like you were an angel. His eyes were glassy, and one of his hands started to trace around your cheeks delicately. He was enthralled by you, so in love and so turned on just from you. He struggled to understand the emotions he was feeling, never having love and lust play in tandem together like this. 

You didn't know the thoughts that were swimming round in his head at that second but you could tell he was caught up in the moment, a swell of happiness filling both of your hearts as you kissed and held each other. Silence filling the room as you both basked in the moment 

"Shit that felt so fucking good"  You couldn't help but let out a small chuckle, breaking the silence, but as you shuffled you saw Soobin knot his eyebrows together looking distressed. At first you thought you did something wrong, worrying that you ruined a moment that Soobin was still basking in but it didn't take you more than five seconds to realise that wasn't the case.

He was still hard, your mind clouded as you came and you just assumed he did at the same time as you but no, this whole time he's been stiff inside of you probably just waiting to keep going after letting you have your moment.

You slowly started wiggling your hips just to create a small amount of friction between the two of you, testing the waters. "You didn't cum? you still need to cum don't you baby?" 

He was starting to look a little helpless and needy as you moved your hips against him. The once delicate and adoring features turning back into needy whines and a blissed out expression. "Need to cum so bad" it was almost a growl, the deep groan in his voice a complete contrast of the soft features of his face.

You can't help but pull your bottom lip into your mouth, biting on it while watching his expression. You've just come, you have a little more clarity in your mind and all you can think of now is his enjoyment "Awh Bin, let me help you"

You reposition the both of you, you're now sat on his thighs, his body facing yours as he lays underneath you. You used your hands to stroke his legs, body, arms, anywhere you could to reassure him that you were still here with him.

As your fingers reached up to his neck, you gently tugged on the collar, slowly outlining the metal letters that spell put your name. "Play with yourself, think of me, and play with yourself"

His reaction was immediate "Ah, ah" his hands flew down to his cock as he started pumping it. You sat up, giving him all the access he needed to his own body. You've watched him play with himself before, it was one of your favourite things, but you've never been this close,always giving him a comfortable amount of space. 

"That's it baby, tell me what you're thinking" you could tell he was enjoying this. His head is thrown back into the pillows but his eyes aren't leaving yours. He didn't care about how he looked or what he was doing, he just enjoyed every second of the feeling.

Once again you worried you were taking it too far, but the excited and sloppy way he pumped his cock showed you this was exactly what he wanted. 

You stroked his thighs as you encouraged him to find his voice "Come on Bin, tell me what you're thinking of"

"Thinking of filling you up" one of his free hands reached out to squeeze your thigh as his words came out in breathy pants  "thinking of you riding me and kissing me. Thinking of you claiming me. Shit I'm so close"

You couldn't stop yourself. You needed to give him everything. "Is it anything like this baby?" Sliding your body up you position yourself so the tip of his cock touched your entrance and you slowly slid down on it, rolling your eyes back and quickly starting to bounce up and down on him.

You don't take time with him, you want him to cum and you want him to cum quickly. You’re so full of him that it's hard to keep your composure. The temptation to just sit on it and grind your hips, feeling him touch everything inside you, but no, this was about him. "God! Yes! It's better, fuck you're so much better".

"Soobin, my sweet, good, baby boy." Words of praise kept slipping from your mouth, a babbling mess of love and need all for him. He isn’t fairing any better. He's just as lost for words. High pitched moans coming from his mouth as his eyes don't leave your tits, breath lost and little whimpers of the word ‘Pussy’ leaving his lips.

"Fuck, Binnie, are you pussy drunk?” at your words he throws his head back into the pillows and starts nodding wildly. His hands start running through his pretty locks and his back starts to arch as the moans and whimpers only get louder and louder. He's close, and the arching of his back makes his hips move and push deeply inside of you making you lose composure 

“Cum inside me" At this point it was more of a demand. You weren’t sure how much more you could take while keeping it all about him. He was hitting his peak and you wanted to feel it. You’d found a much more dominant side to you as you watched him writhing around in pleasure on the sheets as you did everything to bring him pleasure. 

"Shit cum inside me right now" and he did. He did exactly as you asked, noticeably enjoying the demands that were coming out of your mouth. His arms engulfed your body pulling your chest against his as his hips buck inside you harshly. His body shakes as he starts whining loudly in your ear as his cum fills you up. 

You could feel his cock inflating inside of you and it made your eyes roll back. It was perfect, and as his body stopped shaking as hard and his arms around you started to loosen up and you slowly rolled off his body making sure to keep contact with him though, letting him know you weren’t going anywhere

He was breathless, body completely spent as he kept his body close against yours tucking his head into your shoulder where he could.

“Soobin, that was amazing” You could see his blush on his face, but no words left his mouth. He felt shy. You knew him well enough to know that. All you did was kiss his head and allow him time to bask in the bliss of the moment staying with him for as long as he needed and making sure that he was never reluctant to be intimate again.

[your-divine-ribs]

Smile for the Camera

Words: 3.5k

You’re too shy to make a sex tape with your bf Van // he has an alternative idea // SMUT ♥️

CATB Imagines Main Masterlist

The first time Van brings up recording the two of you having sex your immediate reaction is to laugh out loud, incredulous. You're ridiculously critical of photos and you can't even stand hearing the sound of your own voice played back to you, so the thought of capturing actual video footage of you both stark-bollock naked in the throes of passion makes your blood run cold.

The thing is, Van's a natural performer. You swear he was born to do it. As soon as he's up on stage and has all eyes on him he comes alive. And even though he'll sometimes appear a little awkward in front of cameras for interviews he's quite happy to be the centre of attention and he's definitely not shy. Not like you. In fact he's a bloody exhibitionist and has bags of confidence... and he'll get his kit off at the drop of a hat.

He's also very persuasive...

Just two weeks after he initially broaches the subject of making a sex tape with you, Mary and Bernie drop off several large cardboard boxes full of Van's childhood possessions, products of their attic clear-out. Van's happy to seal the boxes up straight away and put them in the garage but you're loathe to add to all the junk already stacked in there and besides, you're curious.

"Come on, don't be lazy, we may as well sort through them now. We can probably chuck most of it, it's probably all junk anyway." You lift back the cardboard flap of one of the boxes to peer inside, grimacing when you catch sight of a pair of battered old football boots that look like they've been worn into the ground. "Yuck, you can sort this one. I don't wanna be poking around in your stinky old shoes."

"That's a little piece of history right there babe," Van says as he delves into the box and holds the boots up proudly. "Won me very first footy tournament at John Bright's with these. I were 'man of the match' for the final, scored five goals! I remember it now, my PE teacher was dead proud of me. He was the only teacher at school who didn't have me pegged as a drop-out."

You scrunch up your nose as he waves the boots in your face. "Yeah, well you're not keeping them, history or not. They've been sitting around in your mum's loft for over fifteen years and we're trying to de-clutter remember?"

Van ignores you, his eyes lighting up as he drops the boots on to the floor, his attention taken by something else in the recesses of the huge box.

"Here's the medal!" He cries out, holding up a shiny gold disc on a length of blue ribbon, his face glowing with boyish excitement. "Ahh man I miss those days, played every day after school until band practice took over. I was really good ya know, reckon I might've got scouted by United if I'd've carried on."

You resist rolling your eyes, giggling at his enthusiasm, admiring the youthful exuberance the memories are invoking in him. He always looks so cute when he's like this. You spot the curve of a football peeking out from another box and you lunge for it, tossing it over to Van. "Heads up!"

He looks shocked but reacts quickly, stretching up to head the ball. He catches it on its descent, dropping it down to his feet, kicking it up to pass it between each foot with some fancy footwork which is, admittedly, quite impressive.

"Hey look at that love, I've still got it!"

"Very impressive, maybe you did go into the wrong career!" You chuckle.

"You can laugh! Reckon I would've definitely been a footballer if I didn't go into music. That's what I always used to say, right from when I were this high." He grins, a hand held up to his chest to demonstrate.

You recall a daft conversation the two of you had a few weeks back when you were reminiscing about your teenage aspirations and you can't resist teasing your boyfriend. "Oh really? Didn't you also say you wanted to be a pornstar?"

Van’s smile widens at this as he shoots you a cheeky wink. "Yeah well... you gotta go where ya talents lie, eh? What d'ya reckon? Dontcha think I'd be a natural?" He wiggles his hips suggestively, thrusting his pelvis forward.

You're both laughing then and you reach for a dog-eared teddy bear, launching it at Van's head. He ducks just in time.

“What was that for?"

"You're such a twat!" You laugh, shaking your head.

The afternoon stretches on and by the time you're down to the last box you're a little dusty and dishevelled but having a great time uncovering memories from Van's past, from well-worn and much-loved baby toys to embarrassing family photos to poems he'd composed for first loves in the back of school exercise books.

"I'll go and make us a cuppa," you offer and Van nods as he opens up the last box, but the immediate frown on his face makes you pause. "What is it?"

"Ahh nothing, just think me mam's given us the wrong box. This looks like all her old stuff." He reaches in and pulls out a handful of paper-back books which he quickly drops back in and you turn to make for the kitchen but then Van calls your name, stopping you in your tracks.

You whirl around quickly to see him holding up a small silvery coloured item and you narrow your eyes, trying to discern what it is but then the penny drops and you groan out loud, your hands automatically flying up to cover your face. It's an old-fashioned camcorder.

"You're not filming me are you?" You whine, hiding behind your hands. "You'd better not be recording. Put it away!"

Van chooses not to listen to your pleading, just moving closer, big shit-eating grin on his face. "C'mon love, smile for the camera. Don't hide that pretty face from me!"

"Seriously Van, I really hate being filmed, you know I do!"

He carries on advancing on you, undeterred, smiling at the image displayed on the small fold out screen whilst you peek at him from between your fingers. "Don't be mardy, c'mon. It’s only a bit of fun... and it's for our eyes only."

Maybe you are overreacting. You lower your hands to reveal a fake glare, hands on your hips. "It had better be, I look like a total mess right now."

"No ya don't," he's quick to reply, eyes leaving the screen to properly look at you. "You look gorgeous like usual... stunning. You always take my breath away."

You giggle shyly at his compliment, your cheeks warming automatically. Even though you and Van have been together for years he still evokes this reaction in you, immediately taking you back to when he pursued you doggedly for a first date for weeks. You'd thought he was all talk back then, a proper player. You thought he just turned on the charm for effect, not really meaning it, but when he finally wore you down and you accepted his invitation to a pint in your local you realised that this was just his way. He wore his heart on his sleeve and he made no apologies for that. You loved him for it.

"That's it, just keep smiling like that... beautiful," he urges, eyes glowing with fondness and adoration, his free hand gesticulating like he's directing you.

"This is so embarrassing!" You laugh, hands instinctively reaching up to brush through your hair self-consciously. "What is it with having a camera shoved in your face that makes you forget how to function normally?"

"You get used to it," he tells you. "You just need to be confident." He chuckles cheekily. "C'mon, work it baby!"

You're really laughing now and you decide to let lose and have some fun. Like he says it's for your eyes only... and you don't even have to watch the video back. You catch your bottom lip in your teeth, fixing Van with your best sultry gaze, flicking your hair back over your shoulder. "How's this?"

"Gorgeous," he murmurs, seemingly mesmerised. "You gonna put on a show for me love?"

Your gut clenches at his words, a mixture of excitement and unexpected arousal. When he looks at you in that way with all that hunger it does something to you, it makes you eager to please. You let your eyes drop to the camera lens, hands moving down your body to cup your breasts, brushing lightly over your curves. Your nipples peak under the flimsy material of your t-shirt, the contact making you squirm.

"Fuck Y/N... you're so hot," Van whispers reverently, his mouth slightly agape. You watch as his tongue flicks out to moisten his lips, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows thickly. His fingers flex on the screen as he angles it further down your body, taking all of you in. "Don't stop."

So you don't. Spurred on by the heady atmosphere that's descended on the room and the gleam of hunger in his eyes you let your hands travel further, gliding down over your hips as you sway them invitingly. Back up to grip the hem of your t-shirt as you raise it slowly, a teasing pace which Van follows with eager eyes. You can't believe what you're doing, playing up to the camera, half of you urging to let yourself go whilst the other half is still cringing. You just need to clear your mind, cast off your inhibitions along with your t-shirt, immerse yourself in the moment... but you can’t.

"Shit, sorry, I just can't do it," you mutter, letting your shirt fall back down to cover your hips, your cheeks glowing hotly. "I know you've been wanting to do something like this for ages but I just can't let myself go. 'M too bloody embarrassed. It's knowing the camera's there that does it."

You curse yourself internally, the embers of excitement swiftly extinguished as you see a flicker of disappoint cloud your boyfriend's features, but in typical Van style it doesn't linger. If you'd have blinked you'd have missed it.

"It's okay love, don't worry." He steps forwards until he's standing right in front of you. "I was only mucking around. Don't want you to do anything ya don't feel comfortable doing... but... hold on… I've just had an idea..." He pauses, a hopeful look in his eyes as he holds the camera out to you.

"What?" You ask cautiously, taking the camera. You know that look, you've seen it a million times before. Van usually wears it when he's trying to persuade you so do something that you're not sure of, but he just said...

"Just wanna try something, that's all," he says, interrupting your thoughts. "You trust me, don’t ya? Think you might like it..."

"Should I trust you?" You ask with a smirk. You're intrigued as he walks you back slowly until you feel the sofa hit the back of your legs. You'll be annoyed if Van wants to keep pushing his silly fantasy even though he knows you're not fully on board but it's really not like him to coerce you, and the fact that you're now holding the camera and therefore in control reassures you somewhat.

"Uh-huh," he murmurs, hands on your shoulders as he applies just enough pressure to show you that he wants you to sit. You comply, heart picking up a pace as you watch him sink down on to his knees on the floor, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Just sit back and relax," he smiles, hands brushing upwards along your outer thighs until he reaches your hips. "I know ya don't like the idea of being filmed, so why don't you film me instead?"

His hands slide inwards as he talks, fingers working on the button fly of your jeans, deftly unfastening them before you can even fully grasp on to what he's saying.

"But what do you... oh... oh right..." your brain finally catches up as Van starts tugging your jeans down your hips, your lacy underwear coming down with them.

They're at mid-thigh when he stops, looking up at you with those pretty blue eyes, full of hope again. "That's if ya want to..."

Shit, he has you wrapped around his little finger, he really does. Your gaze sinks down to his lips, those full pretty pink lips that are responsible for the most wickedly sinful things, and you find your resolve crumbling. If you're filming him from up here then you won't actually be on camera... well, part of you will be, but not your face. You're burning up at the thought of the parts of you that will be displayed, chanting a prayer of silent relief that you shaved your bikini line just that morning.

"I can't believe the shit you talk me into McCann," you grumble even though you're smiling, heart fluttering with excitement as you press 'record' and angle the little viewing screen downwards to watch Van settling in between your spread thighs, looking up at you like the frustratingly tempting devil that he is.

"Sorry baby," he purrs in that sweetly seductive drawl he uses when he's just about to fucking defile you. "I'll make it up to you... promise."

He's loving this, in his element under the camera's watchful gaze, looking up at you through the lens as he dips his head and licks a slow, ticklish stripe up your inner thigh.

"Shit," you breathe, every muscle in your body tensing in anticipation. You feel like you're watching a porno but the fact that it's Van down there and you're experiencing the sensations first hand just heightens everything.

He spends some time on your inner thighs... too long in your opinion... not that you're going to complain. He knows your body so well, how every calculated kiss will make you shiver, how every sharp nip of his teeth will make you hiss. You can already see the hickeys forming, small purplish bruises blooming like pretty violet flowers on your skin.

"Van," you breathe softly, your hips starting to shift impatiently as he gets closer to where you need him to be.

"What's up babe, d'ya want me to kiss ya here, hmm?" His breath fans over your burning skin, making you shudder.

You can barely get your words out, mumbling a quick "mhmmm" before a shaky whimper bubbles up from your throat, drenched in desperation. Fire rages in your cheeks as you realise how every little sound will likely be caught on film at this close range. That doesn't put you off though... it actually fires you up.

"Here?" He smirks up at the camera knowingly, lips just barely brushing your heat before he pulls away.

"Yeah, right there!" You blurt, resisting the urge to grab hold of his hair and buck your hips upwards, focusing instead on keeping your breathing steady, your palm feeling slick where you're gripping the camcorder. "Please..."

"Sweetheart, you don't need to beg."

His voice drips with honey just like the sweetness that's dripping between your thighs. You don't think you can take this teasing for another second but your prayers are answered as Van smiles up at the camera seductively before he buries his face between your legs and gets to work.

It's nothing short of heavenly. Your skin's littered with goosebumps, every little touch amplified, the tickle of his hair, the soft brush of his lips, the wet drag of his tongue as it pushes between your lips, parting your folds. When he flicks it over your clit for your first time you nearly hit the roof.

"That feel good?" He hums against your skin, circling your sweet spot with hot, wet strokes. You answer him with a ghastly moan that makes your skin crawl with humiliation but you can't help it, you're ready to fall apart on his tongue and he's only just getting started.

He can most likely tell you're already close by the trembling in your thighs and he immediately slows his pace to soft, teasing licks that have you whimpering, your body sinking further into the couch.

You can't take your eyes off the screen, your previous inhibitions swiftly falling away, the fact that you know that it's turning Van on so much just adding to your enjoyment. He's putting on the performance of his life down there, pulling all the tricks out of his arsenal, playing your body like a musical instrument that's singing sweetly for him with overwhelming pleasure. And far from it turning you off now, the thought that you're immortalising this moment in time just makes you even hotter.

"You taste so good... can't get enough of ya," he utters, pulling back so he can catch his breath, his fingers sliding through your folds, glistening with your wetness. He traces your entrance with a solitary finger before he pushes slowly inside, his lips returning to your clit to work their magic.

The sounds filling the room are filthy, your choked up moans, the wet sloppy sounds his tongue makes as he devours you, the lewd squelch of his finger pumping into you. You're so wet you can feel your slick dripping between your thighs and soaking into the fabric of the sofa. An errant thought flits through your mind about cleaning up the mess afterwards but it doesn't stick. You don't care. You're too far gone, surrendering to the bliss thrumming through your veins, fully submerged in it, drowning in it.

When you moan his name he gives it his all, his tongue flicking over your nub with perfect precision. A second finger slips inside to join the first and he thrusts them knuckle deep, curling them and twisting them to stroke your front wall in a way that makes you want to scream out loud.

"Oh my god..." you gasp. It makes your blood blaze, your back arching away from the chair as you push yourself further into his seeking mouth.

"C'mon baby, give it to me," he urges, groaning against your wetness, fingers pumping hard and fast and slick. "Come for me... I want it all."

You mewl as he pushes even deeper, fingers reaching a hidden spot that makes your body spasm. Your legs automatically go to clamp around his head but he shoots his hands out to push your thighs even further apart, opening you up for him.

You can barely catch your breath as you feel yourself unravelling, the very fabric of your being drenched in bliss, struggling to hold the camera steady as your whole body quakes. He purses his lips around your clit with a suckling motion and it's your final undoing.

"Ohhh FUCK!" You cry out as your climax tears through your body, an overwhelming rush of sensation that renders you senseless for a second, garbled profanities and whimpers falling from your lips. Van tenderly licks you through it, still not missing a beat, keyed up with determination to give you the best head of your life... either that or he's trying to kill you, you're not sure which. Your body goes taut and then suddenly slack, your head lolling back against the sofa as you gasp for breath and he finally breaks away, scattering a few soft kisses on your thighs as he draws back. He sits back on his haunches, slightly dazed but still grinning like the proverbial cat that got all the cream... and you guess he did... in more ways that one.

"Holy shit that was good," you pant, head falling forward, not even realising that you'd dropped the camcorder which lies discarded on the floor, temporarily forgotten.

"You... my love... are fucking unbelievable. Jesus, that was so hot!" He crawls up your body, planting kisses as he goes, your thighs, your hips, your belly as he rucks up your shirt, then your neck, your jaw and finally your lips where he kisses you deeply, the taste of you still on his tongue.

"Still can't believe we did that," you laugh softly as you break away and Van nuzzles into your neck, smiling against your skin. "I don't know if I'm gonna be able to watch it back though. Those sounds I was making..."

"That's the best bit!" Van interjects. "Don't think ya realise how hot yer sound when yer moaning and sighing and shit... almost had me coming in my pants I swear!"

You giggle at that, suddenly acutely aware that Van's not had his release yet, the hardness of his cock pressing into your thigh insistently where he's leaning over you. Your head swirls with thoughts, eager for more now you've broken the boundaries, wondering how far you dare take this, what other exhilarating fantasies you can unlock. You grab for the collar of his shirt, drawing him back to your lips, kissing him long and hard before you pull back, looking him boldly in the eye.

"You ready for round two?" You ask, loving the way his eyes widen with shock and excitement as his jaw falls slack. "’Cause I reckon the sequel might be even dirtier..."

[doodlyreone]

Smiling Friends at Pony Town Memories ADVENCHA!!!

Part III

An experimental bit to compensate for my always delayed screenshottter phone and archiving ponytown instances to doodles. I roleplay as Charlie and these are the highlights of my interactions with a Pim kinner @mellowvisions .

Although I haven't taken drugs, I felt like I am high in these conversations, it's just one shower thought after the other. This is the last bunch for today and it feels right it ends this way.

Hours pass and it's really coming along greatly. There's this awesome dude was nearby and like wow I can't take off my eyes on him like get this – he has more beard than any Santa Claus I've encountered in any mall. Like all natural beard. He let us touch it and it feels like an ancient artifact. It looks so cool and I'm considering about growing out a beard myself.

(Charlie and Pim having beards just makes them looking more akin to their voice actors bwhahshck. I really saw bright orange shirt with blue accent and white bandana having pony and I was like "IS THAT A DRAGONBALL CHARACTER?" I-)

Turns out the guy just got released out of prison and got the prison bar glitch 50 years ago. It is rumored around here in the local area with how bad the police are in their jobs that the prison cells are so tired of being empty, it just teleports in people, regardless of they're innocent or guilty. I don't really believe it, like I just think it's the police but it might as well happen here. I hand out the Smiling Friends building address to the guy by writing on his palm. Oh, the pen was from Pim, he always had some just in case we need to write on something and that pays off.

(I just love like trying to make sense of the show and its lore. Like as a charity that wishes to help people lift spirits, I wouldn't question like the building having a facilities to cater to those who are homeless or like neglected by society – have you noticed their building is beside an asylum. I improv that theres a public showers available and I wanna imagine they hand out free food too.

Uhh also referencing what happened to the background character in the Who Violently Murdered Simon S. Salty? ep like dude just walks out the theatre and be lookin confused when he's behind prison bars the next scene release him he did nothing wrong)

It's pretty uneventful after that. Pim and I discuss what just happened.

( I really like Charlie's front face in the Charlie Pim And Bill Vs. The Alien episode it reminds me of Captain Underpants somehow oml. Also, the disjointed phrases is mostly to blame with Ponytown chat limited-words-of-pop-up-at-time but it feels right since it emulates like Charlie and Pim sometimes cutting each other off it's brilliant)

What I heard is groundbreaking, earth shattering, reality tilting notion. I genuinely thought I'm just imagining the heart swelling chime because it feels nice but- but no Pim is actually hearing it too. Had the clients heard it as well? Is there someone tailing us behind waiting to play that chime when we'vedone our job? But no that can't be right cuz there's the constant decibel and tune and like we would have notice it and like no matter where we are, it's the same thing, as if it's not in the room for it to change its aural texture but instead like- like a sound bite overlayed on top of a show. I-I think I might actually puke from this, oh my God.

(SMILING FRIENDS IS INCOMPLETE WITHOUT EXISTENTIALISM BWHAHAHAHA. The genuine distress they're under after becoming too self aware oml. It translates to what if 4D dimension exists and we are just tv show for them kind of bit. Also I kept the misspellings and missing words cuz it adds character and funny - the sequel.)

UNTEXTED VERSIONS UNDER CUT:

[anniebear-92]

Paw Prints

Have I risen from the dead? Seemingly. I am sorry for the long delay, there has been quite a bit going on in my life that I just have not had the time to sit down and bust out this next part. I think the next part will be the NSFW part that will not really add to the story should you wish to skip it. I plan at least one other SFW part and then our story will be coming to an end. Stay tuned though as I have other ideas that I have written down for one shots, fics and head cannons :)

Summary:

Things just have not been the same since your phone call with Kirishima. Given the cold shoulder from your cat is nothing new but you've had enough and are bout to do something about it.

It had been a quiet, long last few days since your conversation with Kirishima. Katsuki had been seemingly giving you the cold shoulder as he refused to speak more than a few words towards you or even meet your gaze. He had even taken to sleeping in the guest room to your shock.

Kirishima had called just a bit ago to inform that he aquired documentation for the feline to enroll in school and was planning to drop them off later this afternoon. You huffed as your gaze followed the broad shoulders of his best friend as he naviagated around the kitchen, banging and throwing things into a pan.

You had contiplated several senarios in your head as to what could've caused his sudden coldness towards you, none of them lining up properly to the truth. A plate was dropped into your lap as he fell into the spot beside you, the chopsticks he now weilded like a pro digging into his meal and depositing the haul bewteen those full pink lips of his. Heat began creeping up the back of your neck as your gaze dragged over the features of the handsome man that shared your home. Becoming hotter than the sun when you found the vermillion pair boring back into yours.

Clearing your throat you began tearing into your own out of embarrassment at being caught. It has become increasingly hard to continue denying any sort of attraction or feelings towards the stoic blonde. Kirishima continues to this day to push the issue that he can clearly see it and you should just tell him how you feel. The flavors of the food had you lost in thought as you savored when a crash of chopsticks hitting an empty plate earned your attention.

Katsuki had scarfed down his meal, now ready to return to the kitchen and dump his plate in the sink before retreating into the guest bedroom for the fifth day in a row without a word. As he stood, you found yourself unable to take the silence any longer.

"Katsuki."

His body visibly stiffened as his eyes narrowed down at you. No words were shared as he waited for you to speak.

"Could, you tell me what I did to earn your silence? It's about as bad as when you were in your cat form all the time. Kind of a one sided conversation really."

He snorted sharply, turning to take his plate to the kitchen once again in silence.

"Katsuki! Come on, I can't apologize or grovel to you for something I don't know what I did!" You followed him with your own empty plate now, visible distress on your face as he huffed and dropped the plate into the sink.

He rounded and snatched the plate from your hands, his gaze boring into your own.

"It's fine."

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms across your chest before rebutting his statement.

"It's clearly not fine. You've been completely ignoring my existence for days. Sleeping in the guest bedroom after arguing with me that you'd be sharing my bed as always and even spending time in your cat form when you need to leave the room for whatever reason! I haven't even been scented in awhile which is abnormal, especially when I came in yesterday after petting that stray dog in the park!"

His nose wrinkled in memory of the horrid smell, he had fought his instincts to rid you of that horrible odor the second you walked into the door. However he had resolve, if avoiding you to get rid of these feelings you clearly didn't want wasn't going to work he would have to find another tactic.

"Fine. I was upset and now I'm not. Happy? I'll scent you and sleep in your bed again if you want."

Inhaling deeply while closing your eyes in frustration. His stubborn streak was about on your last nerve when the doorbell rang.

"It's Kirishima."

He simply stated before turning and walking towards the guest room once again, most likely to either hide or change his clothes for the day.

Swinging the door open you found the shining redhead standing there with a manila folder in hand and flanked by someone you were, unfamiliar with.

"Hey! I have Katsuki's stuff!"

His bright smile dropped when he saw the distress in yours, shaking your head you gave him the faux smile you always did to hide the argument you had just endured.

"Thanks, I'm sure he'll be excited. Uh, who is this?"

You shot a polite smile to the shorter of the two now standing inside your entry way. His unruly dark hair curled around his face that was littered with freckles and bright, shining emerald eyes. He wore a smile that rivaled Kiri's when he stuck his hand out.

"Hello! I am Izuku Midoriya. I'm an old friend of Kirishima and Kacchan's."

You cocked a brow at the second name, unsure of who he was referring to.

"Kaachan is Katsuki. He and Izuku were friends back when he was a Kitten, before he was adopted by that family. Midoriya joined my family's organization as a volunteer a few years ago to help other hybrids."

Your eyes flashed between the two in surprise at the mention of the secret race as if he was not a total stranger in your home.

"Ah! Sorry, I am a hybrid too. Don't worry about your secret getting out!"

The bright smile of the shorter man grew wider as long matching dark ears sprouted from under the curls, reminding you of a... rabbit!

"Who the fuck are you talking to?" The growling voice of your roommate came from just around the corner, like he didn't tell you who was at the door.

"It's Kirishima and a friend!" You called, ignoring the fact he was actually speaking with you as if he had not ignored you for days on end. He rounded the corner quickly and came to a halt at the sight of the bunny hybrid.

"What the fuck?"

His lip curled and he was immediately behind you with such speed, thick arms wrapping around your waist to pull you back into the solid wall of muscle.

"What are you doing here Deku?!"

Blinking rapidly the shorter man returned to his human state as his eyes began flicking between the two of you.

"I heard from Kirishima he had made contact with you once again. I came to see my old friend, also if it was true you had found and are living with your mate."

A large hand clamped over the smaller man's mouth as a squeak left your body. Kirishima gave a nervous smile and chuckle while he began word vomiting an apology.

"Ha, don't worry about him. He's just got the wrong words is all! He grew up in an all Hybrid community so he's still learning what to and not to say."

"Mate?" You questioned as you leaned your head back against Katsuki's chest to find his face rivaling the color of a tomato. His Vermillion eyes remained narrowed at his childhood friend in severe annoyance. His tail whipped behind him as if the expression on his face was not enough to show his anger.

"She's not my mate!"

A sudden wave of unexplained sadness hit you like a ton of bricks. Confusion as to why this upset you as you looked down at the floor.

"Uh… let me take our host here and you two can catch up over there huh?" Kirishima's attempts to defuse the situation as he took you from Katsuki's grasp and into your bedroom, leaving the two in an intense stare-down that could end in several ways. Most of them not great.

Kirishima set the folder he had still clutched in his hand on your nightstand before helping you sit on the side of the bed.

"Alright tell me what's going on between you two. I could tell the second you opened the door that you're upset and I can smell Katsuki's distress."

You let out a loud huff before looking up at the man with his thick arms crossed across his chest. You began telling your best friend about the last few days since he had seen you, Kat's cold shoulder and sleeping apart. His short and sharp words towards you and even the argument just moments before he arrived.

"I had a feeling this was going to happen." Kirishima ran a large hand over his face in exasperation and sat beside you. "It's just as I told you on the phone that day. You have feelings for Katsuki."

Your jaw dropped and eyes going wide as dinner plates. "I do not! I told you that the other day!"

"When he started ignoring you, right?"

You thought for a moment before nodding, that was exactly when he started ignoring you. "Could he have heard me and upset him?" You whispered as Kirishima nodded.

"It's clear he thinks the world of you as the person who saved him from death, gave him a home and more love than he's ever experienced in his life. How would you feel if that person blatantly said they don't like you?"

Your gaze fell to the carpet between your toes, realizing that though you had retreated to your bedroom for privacy, Katsuki's hearing was sensitive enough he most likely heard every word.

"I didn't even think about that. I didn't mean anything by it. I love him, he's my cat and a sweetheart. I don't want to take advantage of that and give him the wrong ideas!"

A snort lifted your vision to the redhead who gripped your chin in his large fingers. "I don't think he's got any wrong ideas love, I think he's just finally expressing what you've both been hiding this whole time."

Your lips parted to respond when a loud crash outside the room caught both of your attentions. You were quick out the door to find Izuku up on top of the fridge, as Katsuki attempted to swipe at him and pull him down.

"Get down here you damn rabbit! I'm trying to tell you how things are!"

The rabbit hybrid lowered a foot and pushed the blonde's cheek, tilting his head back. "I know how they are alreadyand you are just trying to deny it! I know you Kaachan and it's the truth!"

A snarl from your cat had you rushing forward and wrapping your arms around his waist. "Chill out! What's the matter?"

His arms froze as he looked down at you underneath his bicep, his narrowed eyes visibly softening at the sight of you.

"The rabbit thinks he knows things and he's wrong!"

"The rabbit is right." The squeak came above you and you looked up to see the small man on all fours peeking down at you, his long ears flopping forward as he leaned down.

A snarl and another swipe had Izuku leaning back once again as you gripped Katsuki's arm. "That's enough! No eating the guests!"

His response is a huff, lowering his arms as you took both his hands in yours. His low voice grumbling about not eating him and just wanting to "talk" to him. As you began scolding the half feline man, Kirishima assisted Izuku off the top of the fridge and a few feet away in the case Katsuki advanced once more.

The two guests watched as you gave Katsuki the 'what for', his eyes intently watching you and hanging on to every word. Visible pout on his lips when he gave his rebuttal to his actions, had them both thinking the exact same thing.

They're in love, and too stupid to admit it.

"All right, all right I've had enough." Kirishima clapped his hands to catch your attentions quickly. "This needs to get sorted out or I'm taking Katsuki to live elsewhere."

The fur on Katsuki's tail and ears bristled as he then snatched you into his side. "I ain't going anywhere!"

"Then tell her how you feel. Right fucking now dude! I'm done with this!" He nodded towards Midoriya who nodded and made their way towards the front door. "You solve this or I'll take that paperwork back and move Katsuki into one of our half way homes until we find him a place of his own. You both have things to say and quit beating around the bush and just say them!"

Stunned to silence the both of you watched as the two exited your apartment and shut the door respectfully firm behind them.

A loud sigh broke the silence as Katsuki's large hand wrapped around yours, pulling you towards the couch and pushing you to a seat. Raising your head to snap at him for his roughness you found a somber look on his face, distress showing clear as day as he attempted to find the words to say.

"Katsuki?" You started as he finally fell onto the couch with his head in your lap. "This is too fucking hard." His words were muffled into your thigh though you caught them easily from your time of hearing his mumbles and grumbles.

"What's wrong sweetheart? Can you finally tell me why you've been so mad at me lately?"

He took a moment before turning his head and catching your eyes with his own. Sitting up he took both of your hands and lifted one to his hair. You began giving him the scratches he asked for and his rumbly purr sounded throughout the silent room. His vermillion eyes had closed from the feeling of your hands running over his ears and through his hair for the first time in days.

After a few moments he slowly cracked them to hold your gaze.

"I… heard you the other day talking to the mutt."

Letting out the breath you had held as he confirmed your fear and Kirishima's previous musings. You let him continue as he dropped his view to your other hand he still held.

"It.. hurt hearing you say you don't like me. I've, never felt this way about anyone and just saying this right now makes me want to vomit and hide in my room."

He raised his hand to your cheek, thumb running softly back and forth over the soft skin. His face was the softest you had ever seen from him, a glow in his irises held you like a trance as he continued.

"I hate that it took those two idiots pushing me but, they're right. I need to tell you how I feel or things will not end well between us at this rate."

You began chewing at your bottom lip when he huffed in faux annoyance, his thumb raising to pull it from between your teeth as he usually did.

"What did I tell you about that. It's a bad habit." His gravelly voice was soft, eyes focused on your lips he had just freed from their confines. Heat crept up the back of your neck and into your cheeks as the most intense stare-down between the both of you ensued.

"Katsuki?" You whispered to him and luring him from his inner thoughts.

The fingers that still held your cheek flexed as he finally gripped tightly, his words were practically a low snarl of "The hell with it."

Your face was pulled towards his and his soft lips crashed against yours.

It was if time stopped when your lips met, eyes closing and meeting his kiss with fervor of your own. Both of your feelings being said with the intertwining of your bodies, his arms pulling you against him tightly while tilting his head to deepen the kiss.

The two of you remained in this moment for quite some time, not wanting it to end a second too soon. When you finally parted, lips slightly apart and panting as the pair of you contemplated who would speak first.

"Does that explain enough?" He finally spoke, thumb running over your now swollen bottom lip from his kisses. They spread into a wide smile as you shook your head, "No, use your words."

His eyes rolled as he dropped his hand from your cheek. "I fuckin' love you okay? I.. Want you to be mine. Only mine, my mate."

Mate, that was a word that had been thrown around more than anything today. You understood what a mate was but as far as Hybrids? No clue.

"What is a mate to you Katsuki? Humans don't have mates." He paused a moment while contemplating his words. "A Mate to a hybrid is their partner. Their one true love that they will cherish and be with until their last breath. If I take you as my mate, I will have no other until I leave this world."

Your breath caught at the seriousness in his voice, the set eyes that looked to yours in order to gauge your reaction. When you said nothing you could see his tail begin flailing in panic, his expression remaining stoic though as his ears flattened against his hair you smiled.

"I love you too, you annoying fur-ball."

His face lit up into a bright smile, lifting you up into his arms as he held you tightly. His cheek rubbed back and forth against your own and lower into your throat. His soft lips pressing against your skin lightly as he whispered "Mine."

"Are you done giving me the cold shoulder now?" You whispered as he chuckled. "You won't be rid of me now idiot."

Katsuki's head was on a swivel when you arrived on campus for his first day, his shoulders were stiff and pulled up to his human ears to show his discomfort. You slid your palm into his, lacing your fingers as he turned his head to you. "Don't worry, most of our classes are the same so I'll be with you. Otherwise Kirishima is in your other classes or Izuku since he transferred over."

He scoffed at the mention of his childhood friend. Izuku learned of Katsuki's intentions to join your school and study something, he had yet to decide on what that was exactly, regardless the green haired hybrid had taken the chance to be closer to his friends and transferred from the college the next town over. Katsuki now begrudgingly had not only his partner, best friend (he animatedly denies this) and his childhood friend to deal with on a daily basis, checking in on him and making sure he was assimilating well into human society.

"I'll be fine. I don't need baby sitters." The blonde snapped as he continued taking in the view around them. "You still haven't decided your major yet?"

Your question was met with a shrug, "I figured I'd see how classes go and make a decision then."

You nodded when waves from a group of people caught your attention. Face lighting up as you recognized your friend group around the tall red haired golden retriever. Sero, Izuku, Kaminari and Mina all stood and joined in greeting you as you approached. Katsuki immediately turned while still holding your hand to return the way you had just came.

"Nope."

You tightened your grip on his hand and pulled him back towards your friends. "Aw come on, they're not so bad once you get to know them."

Rolling his beautiful crimson eyes he scoffed, "They're people. People are… ew." You chuckled as you finally came upon your friends.

Introductions were made for the group to your new boyfriend and he begrudgingly shook hands with most of the group. Mina squealed and pulled you aside in order to try and get details out of you, waiving her off with a promise to explain in President Mic's class, which was one of the few you did not have with Katsuki.

While you stood in the circle of your friends, the voices seemed to fade as your gaze remained on the tall blonde beside you. His mouth moving in response to whatever prying question your friends had. You couldn't believe where you were at this moment in time, holding hands with someone who truly cared for you instead of what you could offer. Someone who started off as a sick cat that you nursed back to health, your house pet that occasionally broke things with his psychotic zoomies and sassed you at meal times. All to think he was the man squeezing your hand for your attention and bringing you out of your thoughts.

"It's class time, let's go dumbass."

You smiled brightly as you leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. His face burned almost as bright as his eyes as he pulled you along down the walk.

"Katsuki, the class is this way."

He huffed and began pulling you the other way you indicated. Bright smiles all around as the both of you made your way to class. Things were definitely going to be interesting around here.

Taglist: @lunrai @nonomesupposedto @j-brielmalfoy @bitchimaghost2 @traumamakesmefunnier @chevalrie @izukusgirlfriend @megolothy

[lamoobsessions]

In the embers of light, I see my love for you.

Newt x Reader(f)

Summary:  Set at the Safe Haven, two people hopelessly infatuated carry a conversation of memories and the act of starting over again.

A/N: First time posting on here, so bear with me if I mess something up. Any sort of feedback is appreciated! <3 <3 <3

Warnings: No use of y/n, no reader-specific descriptions, she/her pronouns. 

Word Count: 1k

___________________________

The fire crackled and popped, emanating a soft warmth in the cool night. The flames whisked in the breeze that carried off the ocean water. It was amazing the fire was still lit. The flames held a miraculous vitality, even after the continuous hours it had been burning and with little attention it had been given. 

As captivating as it was, there was something greater catching Newt's eyes -or rather someone. And that someone sat only a few inches away from him, staring intrinsically at the fire. He watched as the light danced in her eyes, illuminating every feature, every detail. Her knees to her chest and arms loosely slunk over her legs, evidently relaxed -comfortable with her surroundings. 

This wasn’t always a normal occurrence. It used to be an unfamiliar feeling, almost distant, as if comfortability itself was only a mere idea. Surely, they thought, a feeling like that was no longer felt in a world like their own. No, it would be near impossible to feel such a thing ever again. 

But here they are, sitting side by side in each other's company, not a pint of unease to be felt. Unless you considered the fluttering feeling Newt had whenever he was around her. Then, maybe there was some unease, but it’s not an unwarranted feeling. He welcomed this feeling with open arms, accepting it as a feeling of admiration. 

“Do you think memories still exist when you forget them?”

The question seemingly comes out of nowhere. Her eyes don’t even deter from the fire when she speaks, as if she hadn’t meant to ask the question outloud. 

“Where is this coming from?” He questions. 

She shrugs, mindlessly drawing small circles in the sand. It seemed the question wasn’t one derived from a sense of melancholy, but rather from a genuine curiosity. 

He smiles to himself, looking back to the fire as he ponders her question. “I’m not sure,” he answers honestly. “I’d like to think so. I’d like to think things don’t just disappear when we forget’em. They’ll still live on in someone else’s memory. Or If not in someone else’s then I’m sure it’s still there, you just can’t see it.”

There’s a moment of silence as she considered his answer, thinking it over, comparing it to an opinion of her own. 

“You think it’s possible to retrieve those lost memories?” She adds. 

“Maybe, if you try hard enough.”

The girl turned towards him with a look that clearly stated she wasn’t satisfied with that answer. 

He huffs with a laugh and perches his arms behind him, propping up his back. Amused by her persistence. “I suppose it’s a matter of significance. How important that moment was, what happened, when it happened, where it happened, stuff like that.” He thinks out loud, looking into the ocean for stability. “That is to say if half your memories weren’t taken from you in the first place.”

At that she laughs, and he feels a sense of pride that he could be the cause of such a wonderful sound. “Yeah, I know there is no retrieving those…I just mean,” She pauses a moment, looking down to the sand. “-moments like this. I don’t want to forget this moment but if I do, I'd hope it wouldn't go away forever.”

He nudges her side lightly. “Well, there’s no need to worry about that. I’m here too. I’ll make sure to hold on to it for you in case you forget.”

“Thanks.” She replies, nudging him in the side in return. “On the contrary, I have this weird distaste towards the term ‘unforgettable’. I think it’s because of the whole memory removal thing. Like, maybe there was a time before all this where I deemed something as ‘unforgettable’. But little did I know I’d be sitting here now, not having a clue what that moment was.”

“So, you don’t think something can be unforgettable?”

“Not necessarily. But usually for me when something is unforgettable it’s a bad thing.”

Newt knew all too well what she meant by that. His mind always seemed to favor trauma over moments of delight. 

“Maybe we need to start makin' more positive ‘unforgettables’ from now on then."

“Yeah," She mutters. "Maybe we do.”

A silence fills the air as the two of them reveled in the other's presence. Comforted by the fact that they have each other. With the ocean waves crashing in the distance and the flickering light of the fire, the serene scene almost made it too easy to let all their concerns melt away.

“I must admit, it’d be hard to forget moments like this. Moments with you, I mean.” She confesses, avoiding all possible eye contact. 

Though, Newt looks to her, a flattered yet nervous smile on his lips. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she confirms meekly. “I enjoy your company. When I’m with you things seem… easier. Like, life seems to become a little more bearable -and I know how dark and weirdly cheesy that sounds, but it’s true… You make me feel secure.”

Her sudden sentiments struck him, making his ears and cheeks run warm. 

Her words weren’t something new to Newt. He had known the impact they had on each other for a while. There was always this unspoken bond. A sort of mutual understanding that they needed each other. Not in a sense of co-dependency but more of a fidelity -a reassurance that they would always have each other. 

In spite of all that, the reason her sentiments struck Newt was because of her tone. There was a sense of timidity to her words, similar to one of a confession.  

“You make me feel secure too -and I’m not just saying that cause you said it. I mean it, you-” He babbles, trying to formulate his thoughts into words. “You mean a lot to me. Honestly, I don’t know what I would do with you.”

Their gazes meet and she smiles. “You probably would be off your wits by now.” She teases. “You know, dealing with Minho and Thomas is not a one-man task.”

He chuckles. “Bloody right on that one.” He looks back to the ocean, hoping to find the right words hidden in the waves. “I’m serious though. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone quite like you. You’re… astonishing.”

Her features soften, sparking a light in her eyes. 

He refuses himself to look her way, afraid he’ll lose all control and let his thoughts spill. However, he doesn’t need to see her to know a smile is still prevalent on her face. He can feel it radiating off her, like the warmth from the fire, like the salt on his skin -like her hand now holding his. 

… 

The gesture felt natural to her. Laying her hand on top of his, she squeezes it tight as if to extend a gratuity towards his declaration. She then follows his gaze to the dark ocean water, watching the waves fold in the night. 

“I actually think it would be hard to forget this moment.”

He hums in question, now feeling it is finally safe to look her way. “Would you say it’s unforgettable?”

A grin sneaks on her lips as she cuts her eyes.  “Mm, not yet.”

Now fully turning towards the boy, who appears to be choked on words, the girl’s smile softens. Her eyes flicker to his lips, as if to test the water. He seems to get the implication immediately, leaning in closer to close the space between them. A hand sneaks up her neck as another hovers over her waist. Their lips meet halfway.

Just as fast as the kiss began, it stopped. Foreheads pressed against one another, her hand resting on his cheek, brushing light strokes under his eyes. “I guess it is now,” she breaths, unable to form any other words. 

“You guess?” He teases. 

A laugh bubbles in her throat, nodding her head once. “I guess.”

Newt pulls her back instantly, simmering in the newly created warmth between them. Her lips curve upward as his does the same. 

With desire so plentiful and the stars above abound, there would be no possible way to forget a moment like this. At least, that is what she believed. They would venture this new paradise together, side by side, hand-in-hand -metaphorically and physically. 

Though these roads are uncharted, they feel quite tranquil. She felt that something as easy as this would never be topped. 

An air of silence separates them now. The two of them mindlessly admiring the other under the silver moonlight. The girl didn’t think Newt looked real. The way his skin soothed in the light. The way his hair weaved through the salty breeze. How his eyes seemed to consume her whole. She thought he looked more like a depiction of an angel rather than a boy.

“Don’t smile at me like that.” He marveled coyly.

“Like what?”

“Like…that.”  He gestures slightly towards her before turning to the passing fire. 

She takes another moment to indulge herself with his appearance. Loving the feeling he invokes in her heart. Scooting closer to him, she rests her head lightly on his shoulder. “I’ll smile at you all I want.”

She feels a chuckle vibrate in his chest as he rests his head atop of hers. “Fine.” He relents, although it wasn’t much of a retaliation in the first place. 

“Fine,” She nudges her head in closer. 

Together they sit on the cool sand and breath in the salt air, watching as the fire’s light begins to dim. Only charred wood, fluffy ashes, and flickering sparks remained. As if the fire's job was done for the night.

Just before her eyes began to flutter shut, a pair of lips pecked her forehead. 

Maybe Newt was right. There was still much more left for them in this life. They’ve given so much in such little time. Now… it was time to receive. It was time to make new unforgettable moments. 

They would be okay.

[neocatharsis]

Doyoung of K-pop boyband NCT opens up to NME about the pop-rock sound of his debut album 'Youth', working with bandmate Taeyong and more

NCT’s Doyoung nears 30, he’s been thinking of the ocean. Specifically, what it looks like from afar. That’s why the Korean title of the singer’s first solo album, ‘Youth’, includes the word ‘포말’, or sea foam. Seen too close, the cresting tide is chaotic, even violent; but, step back, and there’s beauty in that battle on the swirling waves. It’s an apt metaphor for a look back on a chapter of your life, taken from a slight remove – where the rough current fades into mere memory.

‘Youth’ is coloured by time and the perspective that it’s given Doyoung. “I made a conscious effort to really show who I am as a person,” he says of the album over a late night Zoom with NME. “I had to ask myself, ‘What is the story that I have to share? What do I want to represent at this stage in my life?’ I thought about it for a while and the word ‘youth’ came to me.”

The concept of youth is a familiar bedfellow for the K-pop artist transitioning into early adulthood, yet in the blue hour of his late twenties, Doyoung’s got a little more wisdom to shade between those lines. In his own words, the spirit of ‘Youth’ is more “spring night” than “spring morning”: electric guitar riffs may lift his voice up like the warm breeze, but the wistful lyrics are that welcoming spring sun gently sliding away. It’s the story of youth, as told from the end.

Once he had the idea for the album, it was like a faucet had been opened; things just flowed out. Before, his raw lyrical sketches had been rejected by the company, but, on ‘Youth’, Doyoung claims two writing credits (warm salve ‘From Little Wave’ and ‘Beginning’, an overture which brims with tender emotion), a fact he chalks up to a fresh honesty in their storytelling. This go-around, he found it was easier to tap into his “genuine experiences and sincere feelings”, and that growth was clear to SM Entertainment’s staff – especially after Doyoung tirelessly revised the album opener.

Our brief video call takes place a couple of hours after the official release of ‘Youth’. While speaking, and while listening to the interpreter relay his thoughts, Doyoung schools his face into the composure of a calm lake; he’s thoughtful, considered. Here is someone who’s had time to think through what he wants to say, though he just can’t help but make a few more last minute revisions. “I think it’s natural for there to be a difference in quality,” he says, pausing a beat, then edits himself: “Is that the right word?”

By contrast, there’s one word he definitively, and continuously, circles back to throughout our conversation: “naturally”. It’s how he describes the passage of time, but it’s also how he describes writing and recording. To hear him tell it, you would think everything simply clicked into place. The reality is, it takes a lot of effort to sound as effortless as Doyoung: in making the album, he crafted PowerPoint slides with his ideas, passed a birthday in the recording booth and spent hours on single lines. His hands are in every part of ‘Youth’, top to bottom.

Doyoung has said sub-group NCT 127’s music isn’t always his personal cup of tea, but releases from K-pop groups tend to be by committee; compromise is a necessity. On ‘Youth’, however, “the working process was certainly different without that group discussion or input of the other members”, Doyoung says. More control and responsibility, he adds, “pushed me to really focus on myself, my thoughts, and follow where the music was leading me”.

The frontman of a high-school band prior to becoming an idol trainee, Doyoung has long loved the sentimental soft rock and pop stylings of Korean bands like Hoppipolla, Daybreak and Day6. To recreate their magic, he asked SM’s A&R team to enlist mainly Korean talent for the album – breaking from the global pool they typically tap on. That began with Lucy bassist Cho Wonsang (“an artist-composer I’ve always admired”) sending Doyoung the demo for single ‘Little Light’, while other credits include prolific SM Entertainment producer Kenzie and composer Seo Dong Hwan, a collaborator of IU and AKMU’s Lee Suhyun.

Another of Doyoung’s close confidants during the process will be familiar to fans: NCT 127 groupmate and leader Taeyong. The two idols have debuted together twice: once with NCT U in April 2016, and again three months later as a part of NCT 127. Both introductory songs – hip-hop-trap hybrid ‘The 7th Sense’ and the blaring, rap-led ‘Fire Truck’ – have since been proclaimed as ahead of their time, chaotic disruptors of K-pop’s bias toward bubbly boy groups in the mid-2010s. But, at the time, the NCT units struggled to make inroads with the general public.

When Taeyong released his solo project in 2023, during an era of K-pop minimalism, the dirty bass and all-around eccentricities raised eyebrows – but it spoke to who Taeyong is as an artist, which makes him fit to advise on turning a blind eye to trends. “We talked through what it means to put together and release a solo album, and what challenges I could expect in the process,” Doyoung says. “I think Taeyong hyung definitely offered me more cautionary, realistic advice on what to expect.”

Because once the sound for ‘Youth’ was in place, the pressure was on. Sans the expected hallmarks of K-pop releases like sticky pop hooks and choreography, the quality of the music had to speak for itself. A docuseries about the creation of ‘Youth’ shows Doyoung tempering his hopes: What if, he asks, no one listens? Yet the slow burn rise of NCT has imparted patience and persistence to him. “Nice music will be loved eventually,” he concluded. “So if people don’t like the song [‘Little Light’] immediately, I have this feeling, one day it will be loved.”

In going after that timelessness, ‘Youth’ finds itself obsessed with time’s steady march. Cozy coffee shop tune ‘Time Machine’, written by NCT bandmate Mark and featuring Girls’ Generation’s Taeyeon, is a duet between lovers who accept that, were they to turn back the years, everything would turn out the same. A past self takes shape over his shoulder on the atmospheric banger ‘Lost in California’, while on the tender ballad ‘Rewind’, where Doyoung’s crystalline vocals are in top form, it’s someone else just out of reach: “When I reminisce about that day / The world quietly flows backwards / Your figure as you looked back / At the disappearing end of the street.”

Given the context, it makes sense that time would be on Doyoung’s mind: At the tail end of winter, NCT 127 performed together as a full group for the last time (that is, for a while). “With Taeyong hyung enlisting for his military service, there came a point where all of us had to think about when we would next tour as the complete team,” Doyoung says. Ever a sensitive soul, he ended a couple of concerts in tears. “Because of that uncertainty, I couldn’t help but feel more sentimental,” he adds.

Part of the sadness – for fans and members – was a feeling that NCT 127 had left some global success on the table, thanks to COVID-19. Just as the members were gaining momentum stateside with English singles and a promised US tour, a stop sign was firmly planted at their feet. “When looking back on our nine years,” Doyoung said during one of his send-offs, “there might be people who feel regret, who feel that we didn’t succeed, who wonder how it would be if the timing was better”. But that’s never been the way he sees it.

“I think achieving success really depends on how you define it,” Doyoung says now. “To me, a successful artist is someone who is able to share their approach to music, their artistry and be recognised for their unique style by their audience. It’s that moment where a listener can say, ‘This artist, this group, makes this kind of music.’ By my definition, I think I can safely say that NCT 127 has reached a level of success.”

And as for himself? “When I was younger, thinking about what life had in store for me, the idea that I wanted to become a singer really grounded me,” Doyoung says. “My dream of becoming an artist who will be remembered for a long time gave me the direction for how I wanted to live my life.”

He feels an immense pride for that inner child, “for committing to a life of music, for working towards that dream”, without a guarantee of success – especially now, after it’s been realised. “I am hoping I can be recognised for my own style and tone, that I can make a name with my approach,” he continues. “That’s how I would define success for myself.” It’s spoken like someone who knows there’s only so much he can control; the rest, as always, is up to time.

© NME

[springlock-suits]

Um. *twirls my hair* For this day I wanted to draw Funtime Foxy and or Ballora as real/showbiz inspired animatronics but then I realized I didn't. Want to. And might not have the time to depending on how the inspiration hits and if I'm going to add Baby to be a proper ladies night. So. I wrote a fic one-shot 👉👈

Bear in mind, I am an artist first. And failed English class on multiple occasions. So have fun with this I guess

Fnaf-tober | Day 4: Ladies Night

Fnaf-tober by miiilowo

Content: Willry if you squint, mostly in the form of Henry's thoughts. Gender.

This is about 1000 words, so one of my more lengthy fics, if not the new record holder

-----

Henry reread the design notes in front of him again. He scratched his beard a bit in concentration. The ginger man was currently looking over William's work on some circus themed animatronics, they were only concepts right now, silly little doodles made by a man who happened to enjoy the aesthetic clowns and the like. However... he couldn't help but notice a small, inconcensistent detail. Had William made a mistake? Maybe he should call him to make sure he's reading this right.

No... he can't do that.

Henry sighed and took a sip of the tea on his desk, perfectly sweet, though unfortunately has long since become room temperature. Henry huffed a laugh as he took another sip, William always called Henry's tea "hummingbird nectar". Always scrunching his nose in that cute way of his when he saw Henry drinking a cup of a sugary concoction. Henry shook his head, focus, what was he doing again? He looked back down, right, William's notes. Calling him. Can't do that. Henry sighed again, William had taken a break from work this week to take care of his kids while Bella was away on a camping trip with her girl friends. William would be back for work this Friday, and correcting a detail on some concept work truly wasn't that important. Especially since the "funtimes" won't see the light of days for years, if ever.

Henry nibbled on his pen, and looked up at the time. 1pm. Would William be busy? Michael was at school, but little Evan and Elizabeth were home. Maybe they were taking an after lunch nap at this very moment and William was just as bored as he was and wanted to talk about his animatronics some more. Henry rapidly tapped his pen on the desk, thinking. Charlotte was still at school. His little Button had mentioned recently that she wanted to see Uncle Will and her siblings again. He remembered how he tried once to explain to her that William is not her uncle, and even if he was his children wouldn't be considered her siblings, she just puffed up and crossed her arms, stating that she obviously knew that, but she had adopted them, so they're family now. William had laughed and ruffled her hair, saying he couldn't argue with that logic, and Charlie had absolutely beamed at that. Henry smiled at the memory.

He shook his head, getting distracted again, what was he...? Henry jolts up when he remembers. Right, of course, Charlie wanted a play date. He should call William to ask him about it. And if the conversation happens to steer towards other things, well, that'd be convenient, just some light chatter between friends. Henry holds the phone to his ear, having quickly dialed the number.

Ringing...

"Hello?" comes the sweet sound of William's voice. Henry realizes that he's been silent on the phone to the point of becoming uncomfortable. "William! I ah, hope I'm not being a bother right now- I was just uh wondering if you were free at some point this week. And your kids. For a play date. Charlotte wants a playdate." Henry quickly rambles out, embarrassed. William chuckles on the other end of the line, and Henry hears the faint whispering of Elizabeth, excited at the thought of playdate. "You're not bothering me Henry, Evan just went to bed, and Lizzie here is practicing her makeup skills on me. Of course they can have a playdate later, how does after school sound? Or after Charlie finishes with her homework I suppose."

Henry doesn't even take a moment to think, "Yes yes that's perfect, my little Button will be excited to hear the news." Henry paused. "Practicing her makeup skill on you?" William chuckled, and Elizabeth seemingly shoved her face right in front of the phone as she now loudly spoke. "I'm making Daddy pretty! We're having uh,, um,,, a." The toddler struggled to remember a word. "A LADIES NIGHT!!" she shouted triumphantly, proud of herself. William quietly told her not to be so loud, as she might wake Evan or hurt poor Uncle Henry's ears. Henry hummed. "You and William and having a ladies night Lizzie?" Elizabeth nodded, and then gave a quick "Yeah!" when she remembered Henry couldn't see her. "Me and Daddy are having a ladies night, because we're the only ones in the house right now other than Evan and Evan is sleeping." She shushed the phone for emphasis. "And we're both ladies so we're having a ladies night!"

"I see," replied Henry, not seeing. "That reminds me of something actually, could you hand the phone back to your father, dear?" Elizabeth nods and William gently takes the offered phone from her, and watches as she quickly becomes distracted with rummaging in her mother's makeup kit again. William smiles as he puts the phone back up to his ear. "Was there something else you needed Henry?"

Henry quickly shuffles through William's notes again. "Oh yes, um, I was just looking through your notes and wondering about... the funtime fox character? It looks like you switch between using he or she for. uh... the fox.".William hums, "Did I? I suppose I didn't notice." he chuckles. Henry nods, "Right then, so I was just wondering what you meant to use for the character, so I can correct it." William smiles, "There's no need for that Henry, he and she both sound correct to me for the fox. He is above all else a performer after all, I imagine she simply finds it easier to use whatever fits best at the moment, and whatever fits best for the performance." Henry paused for a moment. "Like... your Springbonnie?" William beamed, "Yes yes like Springbonnie! Though not exactly, Springbonnie entirely doesn't care for such things." William paused, "Say I've been thinking of a new funtime character too! A fox like the other one, their name is Lolbit... "

Henry smiled as he listened to William ramble on about his latest idea, he ended the call quite some time later when Charlotte excitedly bounced up to him after getting off the school bus, talking about how she finished her homework while on the bus and proudly displaying her work. She was, as expected, very excited to visit Uncle Will's house when he told her about the playdate.

When they arrived. Henry couldn't help but notice that William had yet to wash off the makeup his daughter had put on him.

[antisocialxconstruct]

I was gonna add to this but then my routine got fucked up today and my brain's not working so it's just this like ~800 words. That one post yesterday about OCs and their triggers got me Thinking™ about Maksim's early life (he's 22 here) and how several things all came together to make it incredibly hard for him to connect with people even when he really wanted to :/ (light CW for brief mention of self harm impulses)

--

"I know you're disappointed."

There was a momentary silence, then a heavy sigh off to his left that made Danila flinch. "You know how I feel about you doing that," Klym said, and his tone was soft but it still made Danila feel like he was going to be sick. But the atmosphere in the little apartment had been off since he got there a couple hours ago, and it had taken him that long to convince himself that anything would be better than letting that silent storm keep brewing between them.

He clenched his fists in his lap, stared down at them, loosened one to nervously touch his face, pressed the hand against his mouth, screwed his eyes shut-anything except turn around. He was modeling after all, he told himself, he was supposed to be holding a pose, even as he was acutely aware that the soft scratching of pencil on paper had stopped. Klym had just started to say something else when he finally blurted out "you're not denying it."

Thick paper rustled briefly, then soft fabrics slid against each other, telling him Klym had gotten up and was coming around to face him, but he kept his eyes cast firmly downward. No illusions now about why. "Danila," Klym breathed, and that name on his lips was a knife between the ribs. It had only been five months but they had already established a pattern–he was always Danya, right up until they were having one of these conversations. "There are some things people think but don't say for a reason," Klym continued, "it's not your place to just hear them anyway. I know you know that."

“I’m sorry.” Danila nearly choked on the words, and wrapped his arms around himself like that was going to stop the panic. Stop the bleeding. Or just drive the knife deeper. “I know. I’m sorry.”

Klym stepped close enough to place a reassuring hand on his shoulder, but no more than that. It would have been a caress yesterday, he would have leaned in for a kiss. “Look, I’m not angry with you,” he said, and the thing he thought but didn’t say was I just want you to calm down, I don’t know how to talk to you when you get like this. It didn’t make Danila calm. It made his breath hitch like that knife in his chest had just punctured a lung. It made him imagine sewing his own mouth shut, dislocating his fingers to give himself something else to focus on, driving one of Klym’s nice expensive pens through his temple just to break himself of this stupid habit, keep him out of other people’s heads. It made him wonder if he could just erase this exchange from Klym’s memory and pretend he never said anything, maybe erase everything up to the visit the day before that had started it all. They could do it again, he wouldn’t wince this time when he felt Klym’s fingers wander up under the hem of his shirt, he wouldn’t make that face and he wouldn’t get so tense, and Klym would have no reason to tell him we don’t have to do this now if you’re not ready and he would have the good sense not to say I don’t think I want to do this at all. It would be fine actually, it wouldn’t really be an invasion if he was doing it to fix everything.

He must have gone too long without saying anything because Klym pulled his hand away and stepped back, and this time he said nothing at all but he thought I wish I knew what you wanted me to say, and before Danila could think through it he responded, “I wish you wouldn’t lie to me.”

“What am I lying about?” Klym volleyed back, and now that cautious I don’t want to spook you tone was starting to erode, because it was true that he was disappointed. It was true that he was frustrated. It was true that he was lying.

Even as his body was collapsing in around the constricting in his chest Danila still managed to get out “you’re punishing me.”

“I’m not-”

“You’re upset about yesterday so now you don’t want to touch me or look at me the same until I change my mind.”

“I just thought I made you uncomfortable, I-” Klym sighed again, this time with an obvious edge of exasperation. “I don’t understand how you can’t seem to keep yourself from reading my thoughts and you’re still this wrong.”

“I don’t understand why you’re still lying!” Danila spat, and at last he finally looked up to meet Klym’s eyes, finding enough defiant anger of his own not to wither under the other man’s glare. “I have to check because you won’t just say what you’re thinking!”

Klym exhaled sharply through his nose and rolled his eyes. “Right now I’m thinking maybe you should go home.” Danila had nearly gotten used to the knife between his ribs when it was yanked out, and whatever meager breath he’d been able to draw along with it.

He stared up, transfixed now by the stare he thought he’d been challenging, and shook his head, wheezed out a single “no.” No defiance now, no anger. Not a refusal so much as a desperate plea.

“Just give me a few days, Danila… You need to cool down and I’m not exactly feeling inspired right now.”