#would totally be me when i see stray cats

[fujunfuren]

FRANKLY SPEAKING (2024)

[bunny-jpeg]

can i order belgian waffles and soda served by max verstappen? thanks bunny <3

bakery menu

want to submit your own order?? then hit up the menu! there are tons of items available! i'd love to hear from you! as for this lovely anon, thank you for such a nice order! it's rather short, but i love, love, love it! jealous!max my beloved! thank you!!

belgian waffles ("i cum in that every night.") + soda (jealousy) served by max verstappen (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, jealous!max, jealousy, dirty talk, missionary sex, motor home sex

"you're a jealous man, max verstappen." you said one night in the garage. your arms crossed and you gaze heavy on him.

he mimic your stance and replied, "i don't want the likes of piastri trying to take my mechanic."

you snorted through your nose, "right." you shifted from one foot the other, "because that weekend in lisbon and that christmas present last year really were because i was employee of the month.... that and somehow my supposed contract with alpine fell through."

max wasn't jealous. he was just concerned.

there should be an age restriction on mechanics. they should be old guys who can still work like they were in their twenties. because if max caught sight of you in your coveralls, looking like a total mess.

you weren't just some cute thing in the garage, you moved with the rest of your team. you were strong for all your time lifting and moving things. but yet carried such soft features that yanked on max's heart like a chain. you seemed so dedicated to getting max his fourth championship.

which was why he was curious why you were in the mercedes garage. he stayed a fair distance with his hat low to keep from any unwanted attention. he wanted to see where this was going.

"this is crazy, george! you really shouldn't be showing me this! oh my god." you said. then you starte to ramble about the aspects of the car. you were practically on your knees to get closer to it.

george tried not to think about you on your knees to hard. he didn't have ill intentions with you. and afterwards, you thanked george before you left, telling him you 'owed him one'. you were impressed by the car, if one red bull had the same specs. the team was pushing you to your limit at times, it didn't help that you had the golden boy of the team stalking in your shadows.

"have a good nice." george said before he watched you walk off.

max caught up with george after you both left the garage, a jealousy coiled in his chest. "george!"

the other man looked over, you far ahead now. he waved to max, "hey, mate."

"what are you doing out near the garage? race's over, man." that press smile hung on max's lips. he could see that you were gaining distance. but if max doesn't set a boundary now. george might get the wrong idea.

"ah, ya know. keepin' busy." max was soon in his personal space, "what are you doing around here?"

"aw, well. looking for my mechanic." he smiled as he placed a hand on george's back, giving it a firm smack. he leaned in to the other man and said, "i hope you know, george, i cum in that every night. it's not right to touch what belongs to another man. we're friends, right?" george nodded and max nodded in response, "so just back off, okay? she doesn't need to be poking around in your garage. and tell toto that she isn't interested in that contract either." then flashed the other man one of his winning smiles before he pulled away from him and went to go find you.

max wasn't a jealous man, he just knew your skills were suited better for the build of red bull.

in the room of his motorhome the night before you had to pack up for the next weekend. there was a fair bit of privacy in the place. it was probably more spacious than your apartment. even though max keeps suggesting you move in with him (the cats would love you). it felt nice to be out of your mechanics clothes, it could be sweltering sometimes. but it was needed when handling such dangerous machinery.

you didn't stray from red bull for long. you were in a shirt that had the logo across your chest, your breasts warping the image in the process and a fresh pair of cotton panties.

max loved the sight of you, how sweet you looked in his space. he remembered the first time you were in his home and your mouth went slack from the sight of it. your first comment was the view, which max let you get a closer look when he fucked you up against the window.

but, he'd have to reign it in a little tonight.

you were curled up with him in bed, your head against his chest while he played with your hair. you lifted your head a little to look at him and he kissed you.

"i saw you were with george today."

"oh! that wasn't anything. he just wanted to show me the car. i was interested in the specs that we could use in red bull... if anyone listened to me."

he smiled, "well." he kissed your forehead, "i always listen to you." he got you onto your back and in between your legs. he was able to move you so easily, for a woman who spent her days lugging around heavy materials, max could easily move you.

you were soft under his touch. in the low lighting of the bedroom. his hands on your hips as he admired you. you blushed a little bit, "i promise there was no funny business. plus george has a girlfriend!"

he got your legs around his waist and chuckled softly, "you think so little of me. i know you wouldn't break my heart that way. only being a team switcher. plus, if george tried to put his hands on you... we'd have a problem." he pressed his clothed cock against you, "but you're my good mechanic, right?"

you swallowed, "you're insatiable."

he pulled at the shirt on you, "only for you. i don't want you getting involved with teams that are less than. you only deserve the best."

"and what's the best?" you asked as the shirt was pulled over your head.

"me."

the two of you got out of your clothes, and max grabbed a condom out of the nightstand drawer. you had already gone through half of the pack that weekend. his hands on your thighs as he gazed at your nude body.

the only thing better than red bull or max's logo across your tits was them being bare for his eyes only. he licked his lips as he brushed his bare cock up against your slit.

"hey!" you yelped.

he chuckled, "quiet. i don't want a noise complaint from the other team. i know you want to scream my name, but tonight we have to keep quiet." he put on the condom and laid you out on the bed. he kissed your jaw as he shifted you hips up against him for a good angle.

he got into you, and shuddered at the feeling. being intimate with you was like a breath of fresh air. even on the days where the smell of car lingered on you and sweat was caked to his skin.

he loved your curves, your smile. how you lit up the garage and were a hard working. your knowledge of cars and how excited you spoke about them. he remembered a time where you could point out cars that passed by when you were having lunch together.

"you feel so good." he said softly, "you just feel like a dream. thank you for taking good care of my car and taking better care of me." he peppered your face with kisses, pushed your hair out the way to access more skin.

you glowed at the touch, it was so simple but yet it left your soul on fire. even when max was a jealous man, you still yearned for his closeness. his kisses and touches, his soft words and how he looked at you. he could have a day from hell, but when he saw you it was like the skies opened for him.

you held his face and brought his lips to yours. his lips were soft, a little raw from his biting while driving earlier in the day. his body felt good against yours. when you pulled away, you smiled at him.

it was like being kissed by sunshine.

he moved against you, your legs around his waist. your nails up near the back of his head. the kisses were passionately. the bed shifted a little with max's movements, but it made your heart leap in your chest.

you then cupped his face and ran your thumb across his bottom lip and smiled. heat in your cheeks as he thrusted. "of course max, a champion only becomes one when he has a championship worthy mechanic."

a shudder went through him, "i like when you talk like that." he said with such affection, "seeing that ego of yours inflate."

you giggled and pressed your forehead to his, "it's warranted. just keep getting those podiums." then kissed him once more.

the rhythm max had was steady and made pleasure circulate through your body. your soft moans were highlighted by the creaking of the bed. the heat inside of you bleed into your hands and feet as he rutted against you.

your nails dragged lazily across his broad shoulders. you panted heavily as max shifted your hips to get a better angle.

"so good for me."

"and you're good for me." he replied. he could feel the wash of warmth in his face, probably staining his cheeks pink. like when he finished a race. but having sex with you was not a race.

"max."

he knew you were getting close. he could feel the shudder through his body. it was like a inferno that he fed into.

you covered your mouth as to not get loud. but max pulled them away from you and pinned you to the soft covers. he silenced with you a kiss as he jackhammered into you. your back arched more, stopped by max's wider chest.

you held onto his hands as he pinned them down and kissed him deeply as you climaxed. your legs tightened around his waist and he continued to move against you. he was close behind you, giving you another searing kiss as he finished in the condom.

his pace slowed to a stop and he felt the heat on his back. he pulled out of you and went to go get rid of the condom. you curled up on the bed and pulled the pillow under your head as you eyed him throwing it out with the others from the weekend.

he got his briefs back on and got you back into his arms. you melted into his touch. in all fairness, you had very little intention of running off to another team. even if red bull drove you crazy, to feel close to max as often as you did felt nice.

if you put your soul into that engine, then he gave his soul over to you.

-

max wasn't a jealous man, but the only thing that could sate the throb of emotion were two things. a multi-year contract with red bull with your name on it and the thin gold chain with a small 'm' pendant. something you could tuck into your uniform while you worked.

he smiled at you, and you wiped grease off your cheek with your gloves, "going to make me win tonight?"

you nodded, "of course." you smiled at him before you pushed hair out of your eyes, "win like always, verstappen. and don't." you pointed at him, "damage my car."

he pulled you by the waist for a soft kiss, "of course." he wasn't a jealous man, but he'd be a fool if he let you go. <3

[cranberrv]

⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ prom song (gone wrong)

in which dallas winston is totally whipped!

𐙚

you were always too kind to dallas. he was like a feral street cat, someone that people often tended to stray away from, knowing his unpredictable tendencies. you had heard the rumours, you knew about the way he talked to girls at the drive in, the violent threats directed to anyone who looks at him funny. he was dangerous. but, you never saw that side of him. someone who was described as scary and violent, was also someone who greeted you with a smile whenever he saw you. someone who seemed to genuinely care about you.

there was one day where you were at the diner with your friends, giggling and sipping milkshakes. you were wearing pink sundress with a little bow on the neckline, fiddling with the cherry stem from your vanilla milkshake in your manicured hand, talking to your friend about the record you wanted to buy. as you were talking, dallas and his friend, johnny cade, walked in. you notice the change in atmosphere, the way the diner went quiet as soon as they walked in. you don’t understand how dallas is so confidentally awkward, he stands at the front of the diner with his hands tucked in the pockets of his leather jacker. you smile as you see him make johnny choose where to sit. you’re blithely unaware of the fact that the only reason he’s so awkward is because his little crush is here — you.

johnny whispers something to dallas, chucking as they walk past. you look up to watch them walk past, along with the other people in the diner. johnny is doing a good job at ignoring the glares from the stuck-up socs, and dallas was too, avoiding eye contact with anyone, until he locked eyes with you. he couldn’t seem to pull away.

instantly, a smile lights up your face when his gorgeous eyes meet yours. you mouth ‘hi’ and he just nods his head, trying desperately to play it cool. your friends notice the interaction, and one of them nudges you. “the hell was that, huh?” one of the girls giggles.

“nothing, me ‘n dallas are friends,” you reply, suddenly shy gaze drifitng towards the stem in your hand.

“..right,” the other girl nods softly, not buying it for a second. “hey, you know i heard he broke up with sylvia?” she adds quickly, looking for any excuse to gossip. “she cheated on him ‘cause he was too hung up on another girl, would barely even kiss her. it’s probably you that he wants, y/n,”

“what?” blush instantly rises to your face. “no way, me and him are friends, he doesn’t like me that way. plus, he likes girls like cherry valance. i’m not like her.”

“uh huh. well, he’s still looking at you, so..” she shrugs, giving a sarcastic wave to dallas, snapping him out of his trance.

dallas blinks. johnny laughs. he’s feeling an emotion that’s rare for him to experience: embarassment. dallas winston is embarassed. he just got caught staring at a rich girl who is totally out of his league, and to make it worse, her bitchy friends are making fun of him for it.

you glance at dallas again when your friend says that he was staring. your friend must’ve exagerrated, because he’s certainly not looking now, he’s busy telling johnny to shut up about something. you tilt your head and gaze for a second longer, then look away.

the rest of the stay at the diner goes as usual. your and your friends giggling and chatting, ordering a second milkshake, laughing when one of your friend giggles so much that milkshake comes out of their nose. but you’re still thinking about dallas — the way he nodded at you, the way he was more awkward with you than anyone else. it confuses you, why can’t he just be normal?

after you and your friends finish up, you pay and make your way out of the diner. dallas quickly stands up, he can’t just let you go, he’s not like that! when he see’s a pretty girl, he doesn’t wait. you’ve been an exception, after sylvia he’s enjoyed the peace of just watching you, but now he needs to do something.

you and your friends are hugging, saying your goodbyes as they get into their cadillac and you get ready to walk home. you don’t live far. the little jingle of the bell at the diner door catches your attention, paired with the slight slam of the door of whoever walked out. whoever left wasn’t gentle.

your friends leave, and you start walking, not looking back. dallas was outside, zoned out and staring at you from behind in your pretty dress. but he comes to his senses once you turn a corner. he huffs and takes a second to light a cigarette — he’s addicted to the them — then goes to follow you.

“hey, uh, y/n,” he calls out, taking a drag as he follows you. if anyone on the street was watching this, it would catch their attention. a roughed up greaser trying to catch the attention of a gorgeous soc.

you turn around, stopping in your tracks. “oh— hi dallas!” you smile, walking over to him.

“uh— hey, hi,” he says, suddenly forgetting what he was going to say. this never happens.

“did you need something?” you ask.

he freezes. yes, he did need something. he needed your touch and your smile and your time. but he can’t just say that, can he? and to be honest, you leave him with a loss of words too often, so if he did have an excuse, it’s gone now.

you wait patiently for him to speak. if you knew dallas well, you’d know he was never like this. but this is truly the only side of dallas you know, the wanna-be bad boy who is unable to communicate. you don’t mind, you find it endearing.

“nah, man,” he finally says, regaining himself. he chuckles awkwardly and takes a drag of his cigarette. “jus’ wanted to say hey, haven’t seen ya in a bit,”

“oh, mkay,” you say softly, nodding along.

there’s another stretch of silence. he speaks after a while. “so, uh, you’re good?”

you nod again. “mhm, i’m good. are you?”

“yeah,” he breathes out.

“hey, um,” you start, because this is truly going absolutely nowhere. “walk me home?” you ask, smiling sweetly up at him. he swears his heart stops right there.

it’s like you know him, know his hints better than anyone. you knew what he was to frozen to ask for. he smiles, a kind-of crooked, bashful smile. it makes you smile even more.

“yeah, doll,” he nods, starting to walk. you follow quickly. “put your hand in mine.”

𐙚

a/n — i’m sososo sorry this is ass haha but i haven’t posted in forever n i miss writing sosososo much! hopefully more fics soon 😊 also do we like the new layout?????!!!!

[staylovesmiley]

Give Me Your TMI~ Chapter 3

˚⊹ᰔ Pairing; Yang Jeongin x Fem!reader, Stray kids x Fem!reader

₊˚⊹ᰔ ₊˚⊹ᰔ Summary; In a world where Humans and Hybrids should be living as equals, Hybrids are still viewed as being closer to their animalistic side than their humanistic. Deep in the woods lives a band of misfit hybrids who reject these societal views and keep to themselves, choosing to live away from humans. What happens when the youngest of this rogue group meets a lost Human girl, befriending her after an incident where he must rely on her for help?

₊˚⊹ᰔ ₊˚⊹ᰔ ₊˚⊹ᰔ Warnings; hybrid!au, female!reader, angst, mild violence, mentions of sexual harassment/assault and discrimination, she/her pronouns used for reader, this is very loosely based off the overall themes/tones of the manga and anime fruits basket~

Over the next couple of days you worked on getting your strength back, eating whatever it was Minho brought you as you slowly began moving from broth to stew and stew then paired with bread. You started walking around the room with one of the hybrids’ assistance, usually Jeongin as the fox had yet to leave your side unless he was ordered to by Minho.

Occasionally you could hear the others outside the small bedroom, Felix and Jisung having informed you that there were eight hybrids in total living in the cabin.

You had yet to meet them but you would always listen closely when you heard them outside, wondering if any of them would ever come to meet you. One night you had asked Minho about it after he brought you your dinner, frowning softly at the question of why they hadn’t come to see you as you ate your meal. Minho had answered with a sigh.

“Some of us aren’t very trusting of humans I’m afraid…honestly I’m shocked our Innie warmed up to you as easily as he did.” You raised an eyebrow at the mention of the fox who had been no less than ordered to go help one of the other hybrids, Hyunjin, with the laundry.

“How come? I mean he doesn’t seem to be afraid of me…” He gave you a smile that was all too cat-like as a soft purr rumbled in his chest. “I’ll let him tell you on his own, but our Ayen didn’t have the best upbringing and the humans he has met up to you were less than unkind. You just seem to be the exception, I guess.”

The conversation was left there, and it wasn’t until the third day since you had woken up that you got to meet another member of their family.

“Alright, not to say you smell or anything but I think it’s time you got a bath young lady.” Minho laughed, hands on his hips as he had just finished helping you walk around the room. You were fine now, able to fully walk on your own but they still insisted on holding onto you regardless. You appreciated their help but it was starting to feel like they were babying you a bit too much. “Uh, okay- that’s fine with me.” As you stood, the cat shook his head and called for Jeongin. “Innie, would you be a dear and help our pretty here with her bath?”

The youngest gawked a bit, looking between Minho and yourself before nodding eagerly and walking to where you were sat. “Guys, seriously isn’t this a bit excessive? I can bathe myself just fi-“ The fox hybrid scooped you up in his arms, carrying you bridal style and causing a blush to fan across your face from just how strong he was.

Minho smirked, eyeing the two of you for a minute before shrugging. “It’s just a precaution. You did almost die, ya know…best to air on the side of caution.”

With a sigh you allowed Jeongin to carry you out of the room and down the hall towards the bathroom. This was the first time since you had woken up that you left Jeongin’s room and you curiously looked around the space to take everything in just as you had when you first woke up in the small bedroom.

The house seemed oddly vacant, though assumed the other hybrids were away tending to their chores as Jeongin had explained to you one afternoon.

Minho and Felix took care of the cabin, any cleaning or cooking fell to them.

Hyunjin and Changbin kept up with the laundry and tended to their garden, harvesting and planting depending on the season.

Han was tasked with taking care of the chicken coop they had tucked at the back of the cabin as well as climbing high up in the trees to look out for any suspicious activity in the skies like planes or helicopters that could be getting too close and possibly spotting them living out on the mountain.

Chan, Seungmin, and himself were tasked with patrolling the surrounding forest in look out for anyone lurking around their territory. Anyone like yourself, he told you with a fond smile on his face.

Since you had come to stay with them Jeongin had been tasked with looking after you, with Minho’s instruction, and for the meantime Chan and Seungmin had divided their territory into halves instead of thirds to make up for the loss. You felt guilty taking him from such an important task even though Minho had teased that it was supposed to be a punishment to the fox for disobeying their leader’s orders.

Still, if you had taken better care of yourself then they wouldn’t have had to take you under their care in the first place.

You had no clue why Chan had let you stay, Jeongin having told you one night while you ran your fingers through his hair as the both of you drifted off to sleep, that their family head had the worst history of them all with humans. If he was so distrustful of your kind then why did he allow you to stay for this long, even if you were ill, you wondered.

From what you could see on your short trip from the youngest’s room to the bathroom you saw a glimpse of the kitchen, a small living area with well worn couches and arm chairs, and a few doors scattered about that could be other bedrooms as well as closets and such.

Before you could continue your exploration of everything within your line of vision Jeongin’s walked into the bathroom and shut the door behind you both with his foot before gently setting you down atop the closed toilet seat. “Just give me a few minutes to get the bath drawn, yeah?” He spoke softly, blushing a bit at the thought of seeing you bare once more.

On the night he had brought you to the cabin they had dressed you in some of his clothes after your temperature had finally warmed up, the youngest having insisted it be his own clothes even though something of Felix or Jisung’s probably would have been a better fit. The smell of you covered in his scent caused pride to swell in his chest and seeing the way they hung off your frame now made him feel a little dizzy and like his heart could beat out of his chest.

“Innie I could have done all this myself, you know- I don’t want to be a burden…” your voice got smaller towards the end, hesitant as if speaking those words would make it true. The fox loved how you had taken to calling him by the same nicknames as his Hyungs. It was one thing whenever they would call him something so endearing but to come from you was a whole new story. Blush crept up the back of his neck and painted his cheeks as he shook his head, keeping his gaze to where the warm water slowly filled the claw footed tub. “It’s fine, really. I um…I like taking care of you, if that’s okay? Since I don’t really have any other job now due to punishment it makes me feel helpful.” His words warmed your heart and caused you to see things in a different light, comforted knowing that even if the others didn’t agree at least your dear friend Mr.fox didn’t feel like you were becoming too much to handle.

Once the bath was drawn and Jeongin had poured in some of the epsom salts they kept under the sink he turned away as you stripped yourself down before lowering yourself into the water. You hissed lightly at the temperature as you had become so accustomed to bathing in the icy waters of the river by your camp. “Too hot?” The fox hybrid questioned, still keeping his back to you. “No, not at all. Feels really nice.” You hummed, submerged up to your collar bones in the water before pulling your knees up to your chest to give yourself some sort of privacy. “Y-You can turn around if you’d like?”

Jeongin slowly turned back to face you, struggling to keep his breathing even as he came to sat on the floor beside the tub and rest his chin on the edge. “You know I’ve never seen a girl before….human or hybrid. Not before that day at the river-“ you gasped, seem just then remembering how the fox had stared at you from the trees as you took your time drying off, not realizing that it wasn’t just a wild animal watching you. “Oh you pervy little fox!” You teased with a giggle, lightly flicking water at his face and causing him to laugh as he pulled away. “I-I didn’t mean to stare I was just- it was new okay? I was curious-“ the hybrid tried to defend himself though he could tell you weren’t actually upset with him over the encounter.

As you sat in the bath you allowed the hybrid to carefully wet your hair before gently massaging shampoo onto your scalp. You let out a soft groan at the feeling, eyes closed and head tilted back slightly as he worked the suds in thoroughly. You both feel into a peaceful silence as he rinsed your hair before repeating his actions once more.

You were relaxed, feeling safe in the young fox’s care when suddenly the door swung open causing both of you to jump and whip around to see who the intruder could be.

Your eyes met and you could feel the energy shift as your gaze locked with the beagle hybrid. His hair was a soft chocolate brown with floppy ears to match, his eyes soft though full of fear as he looked at you with his hands still clutching the door handle so tight that his knuckles turned white and his white tipped tail stilled behind him. His face and clothes were covered in dirt you assumed was from patrolling in the woods and it caused a soft smile to slip onto your lips. He looked so cute like that, boyish even, and it immediately endeared you to the hybrid.

Jeongin watched him carefully, hesitantly raising his hands up in a surrendering manner. “Seung-“ before he could say any more the beagle was gone, bolting from the doorway so fast he had left the door wide open.

You watched the space where he once was, face falling in disappointment as the fox quickly got up to shut the door and give the two of you privacy once more. When he returned to your side Jeongin saw as you stared down at the water with your knees clutched tight to your chest. “Don’t mind him, pretty. He’s a little, um…shy-“ He sat back down and rinsed your hair once more of the conditioner he had added before combing his fingers through it slowly to remove any tangles he had caused during his little scalp massage.

“Is he afraid of me?” Your voice was small, causing Jeongin’s heart to ache as he paused. “No no- it’s not that.” He tried to reassure you, though truth be told Seungmin most likely was on edge by your presence. “Some of us don’t really feel safe around humans just yet cause of what we’ve been through…Seungmin is one of them.”

You sat deep in thought for a moment, hesitating to ask the question burning in your mind but your curiosity got the better of you. “What- um…what happened, if it’s alright that I ask?” This wasn’t the first time you had heard one of them speak of the troubled past of their family and it only left you with more questions after the reaction Seungmin had to simply seeing you in their bath. Jeongin took a deep, shaky breath before rinsing his hands and sitting with his back to the bath, wet hands drying themselves on his shirt nervously. “I was raised in a hybrid center…more like a factory, really.” He paused once more, his knees coming up to his chest as you moved to press your front to the inside edge of the bath while resting your chin on your hands where they held onto the rim.

“We were taken from the breeders and raised completely separate from other classes and genders…some hybrids were treated better than others- more specifically prey hybrids or domestic breeds were handled more kindly than-“ “foxes?” You guessed as he let his sentence hang in the air for too long. “Right.”

You watched carefully as his ears flattened to his head, a tell you had learned meant he was upset. “You don’t have to tell me if it’s too hard to talk about, Innie…” Jeongin shook his head, jaw clenching. “No, I want you to know. I’ll be okay.” He took another deep breath before continuing. “They would call us names, beat us, tell us that we were too wild or aggressive when we were just playing around with each other.” There was a little whimper in his voice that caused your heart to sting and you instantly brought your hand to play with his hair. Calming at your touch, he pushed onwards. “We were beat and sometimes starved as punishment, or locked away in a small yard in the back with no shelter even if the sun was beating down, rain poured, even in the winter snow…”

A small silence one again fell between you as you gently pushed his hair back from his forehead and scratched lightly behind his ears causing the hybrid to whimper and whine softly, almost losing his place in the story with how nice it felt. “One day I was locked out there in the rain- it was so cold and I thought I was going to freeze to death. I had shifted into my fix form even though it was forbidden at the center- but my fur was the only thing I had to keep me warm. That’s when I notice the gap in the chain link fence…” swallowing deeply, Jeongin finished his story with a voice just above a whisper. “I slipped out knowing no one would be watching the cameras at feeding time, and I never looked back. It took me weeks before I found Chan and the others….I had been in my fox form for so long it took me four days before I finally could shift back.”

Your heart ached for him, planting a soft kiss at the top of his head. “Oh Innie- that’s awful…you didn’t deserve to be treated like that. How could anyone treat another living being so cruelly?” You huffed a bit in frustration, sitting back upright in the bath as the hybrid turned to face you. “That’s just my story….Seungmin had it even worse…Chan too.” You frowned, splashing him lightly with the now lukewarm water. “Hey, quit that. Don’t belittle your own traumas just because others may have had it worse.” He chuckled lightly, splashing you back. “I only meant that since they had it worse they are even less trusting of humans than me, silly.” You pouted a bit, realizing you had jumped to conclusions made embarrassment paint your cheeks pink. “Now hurry up and wash your body before the water gets too cold and we have to warm you up again.” The young fox teased as he handed you a bar of soap and a wash cloth.

After you finished with your bath Jeongin wrapped you in a clean towel and handed you a folded stack of clothes. “I’ll leave so you can get dressed, just come out to the kitchen when you’re done cause I think Minho-hyung said something about wanting to talk to you.” Your body froze hearing that the older wanted to talk with you, a little anxiety creeping inside you at the fear of what it could be about. “Oh um- okay..” Jeongin gave you a soft smile before leaving you alone to dress yourself.

You carefully unfolded the clothes to find yet another baggy long sleeve tshirt and a pair of dark pajama pants. You blushed lightly realizing you would have to go without undergarments but pulled the clothes on regardless.

Once dressed you padded your way out and into the main part of the cabin, back tracking to where you saw the kitchen when you were on your way to the bathroom with Jeongin earlier. Minho was in the kitchen as the fox had predicted, setting stuff from the fridge out on the counter when he looked up to meet your eyes with a smile. “Ah there’s our pretty all nice and clean. Come here would you?” His voice was cheery but you still kept your steps towards him hesitant. “I’m not gonna bite you, I’m not Chan.” He teased but the mention of the wolf hybrid caused you to tense more. After making your way fully into the kitchen and to the cat hybrid’s side you looked up at him nervously. Minho gave a soft smile and ran his hands up and down your arms in a comforting manor. “Calm down, pretty…I just wanted to tell you what your chores will be around here since you will be staying with us.”

Your brain seemed to malfunction at that, you must not have heard him right. “Staying? Wait- I…I get to stay?” Your eyes became glassy as you looked up at him hopefully. Ever since you had started to get better you worried when the day would come that they would send you back to the forest and your tiny little camp, wondering if they would even allow Jeongin to come and visit again since it seemed to be something worth punishing the boy over. “Yes, of course you get to stay. We aren’t gonna send you back out into the cold.” Oh, you thought. Right…winter was just around the corner. Even though some of them distrust humans they didn’t seem so cruel as to put you out in such terrible weather after saving you once already knowing you were not prepared for such. “So…I’ll have chores?” Your voice was quiet, eyes still looking into his own as you composed yourself and waited for his instructions.

Minho gave you a warm smile before moving back towards the ingredients laid out on the counter. “Mhm, everyone here has chores. You, my dear, will be helping me with the cooking from now on.” You beamed, nodding your head as you moved to face the counter. This was something you could do easily, so the fact that it had been chosen as your task for you seemed like fate. “I can do that! So, what do you need me to do?” The cat grinned at your enthusiasm, glad to see your spirits lifted as he pushed a cutting board and various vegetables towards you. “I need you to rinse these, peel the carrots and potatoes, and cut them up for me. We are having stew for dinner so make sure they are small enough to cook all the way through.”

With that you set to your task, carefully washing and peeling the vegetables before beginning to cut them. As you worked you began to hum to yourself under your breath, completely absorbed in your job as Minho glanced over at you from where he was preparing the meat. “You’re really good at that, you know. Have you done a lot of cooking before?” The praise took you off guard, but you smiled nonetheless. “Thank you. I actually learned from my mother.” Your hands stilled in their movements, knife poised with the tip down on the cutting board with the thicker part of the blade resting against the potato you were in the middle of cutting into smaller cubes. “She um…she said that no good wife should ever let her husband come home without a home cooked meal waiting for him.” Minho frowned, scoffing a little as he reached over you to snag a piece of carrot you had chopped before popping it into his mouth and biting down with an audible crunch. “Oh yeah? So does that make me a good wife?” He teased, giving you a smug smile as you laughed so hard you snorted a bit. “Perhaps you are, but who would be the husband?”

Before he could answer a voice called out from behind you as the front door swung open. “What’s this about a husband?” You turned around to see the two hybrids who had been working in the yard now standing with wide eyes as they realized it was more than just their beloved cook in the kitchen. “Ah! Hyunjin, Changbin- I don’t believe you’ve met our newest addition. This is our pretty~” Minho introduced you with a teasing glint in his eye as he turned back to the meat he was preparing to add to the brother simmering on the stove.

The two hybrids watched you cautiously, still frozen in place so you decided to speak up. “U-Um…hello! I’m y/n but uh- the others have just been calling me pretty?” A light blush painted your cheeks as you looked down at the counter shyly. “That makes sense…you are very pretty.” Hyunjin said softly, slowly walking up to you with Changbin following closely behind albeit a bit more timidly. “Are you feeling better?” His voice was so sweet it caused your heart to flutter as you gave him a smile. “Mhm much better now thanks to Dr. Minho.” You didn’t miss the opportunity to tease the cat, hearing him snicker behind you as he listened in while working.

Taking in the appearance of the two you noted the small white ears atop Hyunjin’s head and his long white and brown tail. Changbin had a pair of floppy black ears that looked incredibly soft though from where he was standing you couldn’t see the matching bunny tail behind him. “I’m glad. I know we didn’t come to see you but we were still worried- you looked really bad when Innie brought you here.” Changbin spoke, his voice low and you turned to give him a warm smile as you had Hyunjin. “Thank you for worrying about me. I’m sorry to intrude on your lives like this…but it’s very nice to have been able to meet such kind people.”

The hybrid pair gave each other a look before turning back to you with bright smiles. Instantly arms circled around your waist as the ferret hybrid laid his entire body against your back, his chest pressed firmly against you as his chin rested on the top of your head. “Whatever your cooking smells soooo good- will dinner be soon?” You were a bit shocked at first, stumbling a little to support his weight but the heat from his body felt nice. Minho scoffed, picking up an end from one of the carrots you had cut and chucking it at his head causing the ferret to whine dramatically. “Ya! If you keep asking then we’ll be serving ferret stew instead!” You heard laughter ringing out from the bunny hybrid to your left, Changbin’s hands resting over his stomach before he pointed at the other two hybrids. “Careful Jinnie- you know he’ll do it too! Remember the tissues?” Your eyes widened, completely lost at the inside joke as you looked between the cat and bunny. “M-Minho would…cook you?” There was a sad pout on your lips that caused Minho to coo at you and shake his head. “I’m only teasing, pretty. I’d never hurt my family. Just gotta show the young ones their place sometimes.” You relaxed, nodding shortly before returning to the task he had given you. It was only slightly more difficult with Hyunjin clinging to your back as he started to doze lightly.

After you finished cutting all the vegetables Minho swooped in to take them from you, nodding to the hybrid half asleep on you. “Can you take him over to the couch for me, pretty? I need you to clean up and help Felix set the table.” You nodded to him, tapping the hands that rested around your waist to get the ferrets attention. “Hm? I’m up- I’m awake.” Hyunjin stirred, bleary eyes blinking to look around the room. “Come on, Hyunjin. Let’s go get you comfy okay?” He nodded, following as you lead him into the living room and helped him lay down on the couch. You pulled the blanket from where it had been folded neatly over the back of the sofa and covered the hybrid in it, making sure he was snug before heading over to the large wooden dinner table where the younger cat hybrid was currently setting out the plates. “Hi Pretty! Could you maybe get the cutlery from the drawer over there? While you’re setting those out I’ll get the cups.” His smile was like pure sunshine causing your breath to hitch when it was directed towards you. “U-Uh okay, sure.” You made your way to where he had pointed, grabbing nine sets of silverware before heading over to place them at each seat.

As you were placing the last set down you heard the door swing open and shut but unlike the last time the person entering the home didn’t say a word. You turned to see who it could have been, expecting to see Jisung returning from his chores only to be met with a sight that sent a shiver down your spine. Walking casually from the front door was a rather large black wolf, easily twice maybe even three times as large as you. Your eyes were probably as wide as saucers as you couldn’t help but stare. You had never seen a creature so big up close like this and a tremor set into your hands as you followed his movements carefully. So this was the head of their family…Chan. His eyes were sharp, almost calculating and you felt in awe of just how…majestic he seemed, he was mesmerizing. When he noticed you staring, Chan began stalking towards you causing you to back up until your lower back hit the table. You were effectively trapped with the wolf merely a foot away. He sniffed at you for a moment before letting out a low rumbling sound that caused you to flinch. When he caught the movement his eyes softened, quickly darting away to the room at the farthest end of the house much like Seungmin had ran from you earlier. Your body still trembled with fear as Jeongin rushed to your side. “Hey, pretty what’s wrong?” He had come out of his room just in time to see Chan’s retreat to his room and when he had looked in the direction he was coming from he saw you shaking with your hands clutching onto the table cloth as if it was your lifeline. “I-I don’t know….I think I made him angry? I’m so-sorry-“ you stumbled over your words, still shaken up by the fear he sent washing over you with just a single interaction.

Back in his room the oldest shifted back into his human form before curling up on his bed, tears silently falling from his eyes as he couldn’t get the look of fear on your face and the way you flinched away from him out of his mind. Maybe he really was some monster to all humans, even the most gentle as he had come to learn you were. You embraced them all so warmly, the wolf having watched from the shadows as you cuddled up at night with their youngest, whispering stories to him as you both drifted off to sleep. Or how you marveled at Minhos care for you, always thanking him profusely for even the smallest things and relaxing enough around him to return his teasing on occasion. How you allowed Jisung to play with your hair as Felix sat in front of you as you braided his, not seeming to mind when the chipmunk only seemed to add tangled messes instead of intricate braids as you did for the cat in your lap. Even just before he had entered the home he saw the way you allowed Hyunjin, who you had only just met, rest himself on you so familiarly before tucking him in gently.

Why couldn’t you embrace him that way….why not him? He let himself cry for a moment longer before there was a knock on his door. “Hyung? It’s….Minho says dinner is done. Will you uh- go with me? I’m afraid to go alone.” He quickly wiped away his tears, rising to throw on some of the cleaner clothes from his hamper since he still needed to shower after dinner and didn’t want to bother with anything clean at the moment. “Sure thing, Minnie. You don’t have to be afraid, yeah? She’s- I wouldn’t have allowed her to stay if I thought she would hurt us.” He tried to assure Seungmin once he opened the door to greet him. The other canine seemed to have been crying himself, eyes puffy and tired as he held his gaze downward. “I know, I trust you I just-“ Chan shook his head, ruffling the younger hybrid’s hair before taking his hand and leading him out towards the dining table. “I understand, but things will be okay. I’ll protect you.” This seemed to calm Seungmin enough to follow him willingly, although still hesitant. Chan braced himself to see you again, pushing away his negative thoughts of self hatred and doubt to try and make it through dinner until he could turn in for the night and continue to avoid you while also watching from afar, longing for the gentleness that seemed to flow from you so freely.

author’s note; ooohh little lore drops and big lore drops! How we feeling after learning Innie’s backstory?? Anyone else need tissues? Or maybe to beat up the people who would do that to him?? I’m so curious what you guys might be thinking the others backstories are that makes them so afraid/distrusting of humans~ I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and I look forward to reading all your comments and such hehe till next time! Also I am SO sorry if I forgot to tag someone who I already told could be on the taglist- I accidentally deleted a couple people when trying to copy and paste the list from my notes and I tried to go back and find all the accounts but I feel like I still missed some ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১

taglist; (pink users I wasn’t able to tag) @coastinglove @estella-novella @chancloud8 @skzswife @motheraiya55 @zofia515 @skybluelixie @breadedloafs @inaribu00 @silly250 @royal-shinigami @thatgirlangelb @bby-boo4u @emmxxsworld @vampkittenb82 @h0rnyp0t @alisonyus @im-sinking-in-mud @ihrtlix @mrs-hwangh @danixiulin @wolfo2027 @kiaralynn3838 @ateez-atiny380 @daceyena @bookswillfindyouaway

[cosmal]

cake — send me in a character and a prompt and i’ll write you a blurb!

eddie munson + soft!shy!gf’s love language is gift giving. maybe friends to lovers?

guitar pick

summary you come over late at night to give eddie a gift.

content eddie munson x shy!fem!reader

Eddie didn’t mean to scare you, really it was an accident, but it doesn't stop him from feeling bad. But he really didn't know you'd be at his door when he opened it up.

"I'm sorry," you gasp. Which is awful because he should be the one apologising. "Sorry, Eds, Wayne let me in."

"It's okay," he says and looks down at you. Tights tucked into your frilly socks at your feet. They wriggle into the trailer-grade flooring. "Sorry, are you okay? I didn't mean to scare you."

"I'm okay," you sigh, and then you blink slowly. Eddie remembers it's late - really late. And you're here, jacket over your pyjamas, and a beanie on your head.

"Y/N," he says and moves out of the way to let you into his bedroom. You move, and despite months of being together, you're hesitant about it. You scuffle along the ground and turn to make sure he's behind you. You wait for him to sit down before you do. "Did you walk here?"

"Yeah," you say quietly, taking off your beanie now you've settled. "Eddie, it's fine, don't worry about it." You only live around the corner. Still, it's 11pm and Eddie feels like he might throw up.

"Y/N," he says and tries not to sound stern, "baby, why didn't you call?"

"Because," you sigh, nibbling your bottom lip unthinkingly like always, "because, I got really excited to come see you and didn't even think about it."

Eddie scoots across the bed and nudges your thigh with his knee where he's got his foot tucked under him. "Excited, huh?" He wiggles his eyebrows and feels pleased when you duck your head down to look at your hands in your lap.

"Eddie," you say downwardly, swinging your feet over the edge of his bed. "Stop, no, not like that."

Eddie doesn't sound disappointed because he isn't. He doesn't care why you're here, he's just happy you are. He thinks if you'd come over just to see the stray cats and not him, he'd still just be as pleased. Just to see you is enough.

"Oh?" he asks, leaning his weight into you. You lean with him and Eddie has to hook an arm around your shoulder to stop you from falling into his pillows. You giggle with shy happiness that makes Eddie feel fuzzy. "What're you here for? I saw you five hours ago."

You lean your face into his shoulder, cheek all smooshed up against the sleeve of his sleep shirt. Some Tom Petty merchandise from the dollar bins at the thrift store behind the arcade. It's starting to smell like you. You hide yourself in his side and he can't see your face properly.

"I've got something for you," you say quietly, waiting for his response.

He shifts to rock you. "Oh really?" He finds it hard to hide his excitement.

"You gotta," you steel yourself and Eddie squeezes your knee, "you gotta promise you won't tell me if you hate it. I don't think I can take it," you say seriously.

Eddie tenses and then laughs gently. "Sweetheart, I would never. I'll love it, swears."

You sigh and reach into the inside pocket of your jacket. Pulling out a rolled-up bit of tissue paper, you hand it to him. You won't look him in the face.

Eddie carefully unravels the paper in his hand and drops the contents into his other palm. A long, silver chain with a plastic plate at the end of it. He flips it over to inspect it. It's a guitar pick.

"It's, uh," you say when he looks it over, "it's one of my picks."

You're only new to guitar, mainly acoustic, bass when Eddie can convince you to sit between his legs and teach you.

"Oh," he lets out a deep breath, deflating, "sweetheart, that is so cool. Like totally, amazing."

"Yeah?" You're so shy about Eddie feels like he could die.

"The best thing ever," he groans before he falls on top of you and down into the bed. You yelp, still just as demure now that he's hovering above you. He cages you in with his arms beside your head.

"Eddie..."

"Seriously," he leans down to kiss you on the cheek, "so cool," the other cheek, "thank you," your nose.

You fluster underneath his doting, pushing your face into where he's got his arms around you. "Do you really like it, Teddie?"

Teddie Eddie thinks fondly. Of course, he likes it. He loves you even more. "Really. Actually. Truly."

It takes you a second. You smile something ruining and roll onto your back. "Cool, 'cause I have a matching one." You pull a necklace from out underneath your sleep shirt. There, on the end of the chain is a guitar pick Eddie had given way back when you were still just friends.

Eddie drops himself into you and groans, long and suffering. "Jesus fucking Christ, baby."

[le-fruit-de-la-passion]

Press One for Love, Two for Regret

Chapter 2

Summary: Proper confessions should never happen over the phone. Viktor knows that. So how did he get here?

Pairing: Viktor x Reader

Word Count: 3.6K

Warning: Mature (mentions of explicit content, explicit in last chapter)

Notes: This was originally supposed to be a real quick one-shot. And yet, here I stand, offering you a three-chapter fic that is probably going to be a little under 10K total. Like a stray cat proudly bringing you a dead squirrel. I'm bozo the fool and I can't stop writing about Viktor.

(Chapter 1) (Chapter 3) (Chapter 4/End)

In theory, you’re pretty sure being a hitman should be fun.

There should be something thrilling about following someone around, tracking their every move in the shadows, finding the perfect opening to shoot them right between the eyes. The hunter and the prey. Riveting stuff.

Except you're not a hitman. And you're not tracking down someone to shoot them.

You're a dumb, stupid idiot. And you're just trying to talk to your dumb, stupid best friend who is doing everything in his power to not talk to you.

And he's quite good at it too; it's like he's vanished from the space-time continuum itself. No one has seen him, no one has talked to him, no one has even heard of where he might be hiding. It's almost annoying how good Viktor is at everything he does.

You hadn't managed to sleep the rest of the night of what you now refer to as ‘The Call’. You watched the minutes pass one by one on your alarm clock, eyes wide open, mind bustling with too many questions to go to bed.

At six am sharp, you deemed you had waited long enough to stomp your way to Jayce's and Viktor's apartment. You weren't even sure of what you were going to say; you just had to talk to him. You couldn't let that conversation end the way it did.

You knocked firmly five times before Jayce cracked the door open with an audible groan, hair tussled, eyes barely open. It seemed he, too, hadn't spent a very restful night.

It took a few seconds for him to even register who was standing at the door; when he did, he visibly straightened his back in an attempt to look awake and composed.

Unfortunately for him, it did not work very well.

“H-hey,” he stammered, leaning against the doorway in false non-chalence. His voice was still heavy with sleep, and he audibly cleared his throat. “It's a little early, isn't it? The ol’ operating system usually only boots up when the sun is out,” he added jokingly, pointing a finger toward his forehead.

A valiant attempt at breaking the obvious tension, but you refused to budge. You glared at him, decidedly looking into his eyes.

“I need to talk to Viktor.”

Jayce made a strangled sound, which he tried to hide with a theatrical coughing fit.

“You… just missed him?” he managed to choke out with uncertainty. He was visibly trying to convince himself just as much as you. “He left to go prepare the lab. You know him, always doing extra research.”

He flashed you a smile, a practiced grin with perfect teeth that might have seemed genuine in other circumstances. But his bottom lip was quivering, and you could see Viktor's daily use cane leaning against the coat rack right behind him. Jayce was not exactly a master manipulator.

“Jayce, the university doesn't even open until seven thirty.”

He deflated at that, his large shoulders comically lowering. You could see he was thinking desperately for anything to say, but coming up empty-handed. Chances were he hadn't had his coffee yet, which knowing him, considerably lowered his ability to formulate coherent thoughts.

You were starting to feel bad; the poor guy was stuck being the literal last defence to his roommate, and he was genuinely giving it his best. Jayce might not have a career in acting, but he was a good friend.

That was more than you could say about yourself.

“Ok. I get it,” you sighed. “He needs space. I can respect that. Just… tell him to call me later, alright? Even just a text would be fine.”

Jayce seemed profoundly relieved you had agreed to back down, something you almost always refused to do under any circumstance. Yes, technically, you could stay put in front of that door and progressively chip away at Jayce's still barely conscious mind until Viktor decided to show himself.

But you felt guilty. Guilty for not realizing how he felt, guilty for treating him like your personal diary over the phone, guilty for not saying how you felt sooner. The conversation should be on Viktor's terms rather than your own.

“Yeah, I'll tell him,” Jayce gave you a small smile, comforting and honest. The next words came out less encouraging than he likely intended: “I'll try.”

But now, it's been a week since ‘The Call’, and Viktor has still shown no sign of wanting to talk. Your phone is frustratingly devoid of unread texts or missed calls no matter how often you check it. Your world feels like it's been spiralling out of control a little more every day, the uncertainty of everything left unsaid weighing you down like a ton of bricks. It's torture, and you can't help but feel like you kind of deserve it.

You should have known better than to call Viktor when you were drunk, and yet, you still did. Because there's nothing more natural to you than talking to him. It's become second nature, as natural as breathing or blinking.

Viktor is always so smart, and so composed, and so understanding, and so helpful- and he's probably the only person who likes hearing you go on rants for hours on end. How could you ever want to talk to anybody else after a breakup?

But when you're drunk, you lose the already feeble control you have over your verbal on-and-off switch. Everything spews out of you without a filter, as if you're vomiting all the thoughts that go through your mind one after the other. It's cathartic, for sure, but then you end up saying things that should never be said to the best friend you've secretly been in love with for years now.

Things like how your ex never took time to finger you properly, or how he had this stupid obsession with men not going down on women because he was an ungrateful asshole.

And then, those two little words.

“I would.”

There was no hesitation in his tone, no uncertainty. It was like he had the sentence on the tip of his tongue for the last two hours you had been whining to him. Like he had been waiting to say it for too long to contain it anymore.

The irony was that you had spent the last four years trying everything in your power to not let those stupid little words out too.

—

You met Viktor at your first university's faculty Christmas party.

You hated work parties.

You had only gotten the position of academic advisor a few months prior, and in that time you hadn't managed to form a single bond with any other employee in your entire department. It was always the same; you talked too much. You were too intense. You were tiresome.

You were you. And that was something a lot of people didn't like.

Needless to say, you didn't want to go to that stupid party. Everyone would split up into groups of friends and previous acquaintances, and any attempt at joining the conversation would result in discreet sighs and rolling eyes. Yet you still went, partly out of obligation, but also in the hopes something that night might be different for you.

But it hadn't been, and you were alone.

So you did what any well-adjusted adult did when they were faced with the indisputable fact they were the party outcast; you drank.

After one glass of cheap white wine, you felt more relaxed, less stiff. Just a nice amount of mellowed out.

After two glasses, you started to forget the self-preserving instinct of not approaching others. ‘Maybe you could try talking to someone, after all. It could be worth a shot.’

After three glasses, you forgot why you were so apprehensive in the first place. You were great! You rocked. You had so many things to say there was absolutely no way someone wouldn't love to hear all about it.

…but maybe you could get a fourth glass, first.

You headed back towards the drinks table, a little less steady and a whole more lot confident. So confident, you didn't realize you bumped right into someone's chest until a hand grabbed your arm to keep you upright.

“Ah, are you alright?” came a heavily accented voice above you. ‘Eastern European,’ you thought absentmindedly. ‘Ukranian, maybe Czech. I wonder if he knows they created the sugar cube…’

You took an unsteady step back, peaking up at the man blocking your way to the wine bottles.

‘Wow, he's handsome’, was your first, immediate thought.

“Wow, you're handsome,” were your first, immediate words.

The man spluttered in surprise. In all fairness, he probably hadn't been expecting for a stranger at a faculty party to be so direct. If you were still at glass number two, you might have realized it wasn't a very appropriate thing to say in this specific context.

But you were at glass number three and unabashedly staring at the man's face, the sharpness of his cheekbones, the curve of his nose.

That was the moment you realized he wasn't a stranger.

You knew him. Not his name, or who he was, but you felt absolutely certain you had seen him before. You scanned your jumbled brain for the memory of his face. So beautifully sculpted, like he was made of stone. You knew him, you had it on the tip of your tongue-

“Miss?” the man asked, seemingly unsure whether to be perplexed or worried at your silent glaring. “Would you like me to help you sit-”

“Tuna sandwich!” you yelled with a huge grin. A few other partygoers turned towards you in confusion, but you were much too overjoyed at the epiphany you were experiencing to realize.

The man blinked slowly. Then once again, like he was trying to process whether or not he had understood correctly. His head cocked slightly to the side in bewilderment.

“… I'm sorry, what did you say ?”

You poked his chest with an insistent finger, beaming: “You're tuna sandwich! The tuna sandwich guy!”

The man looked to the side warily, mouth opening and closing, visibly searching for some kind of help. When he found none, his golden eyes fell back to you, catching the glow of the ceiling lights. The spark of an aurora through the night sky.

“I'm… afraid I truly have no idea what you're talking about,” he explained gently, the warmth of his hand leaving your arm. You deflated a little at that, the notion of embarrassment creeping back in you.

But he hadn't left. He was still here.

He was listening to you.

“My office is next to the cafeteria,” you started, straightening your dress and trying to appear more professional. “I see you, every day, at eleven forty-five, before morning classes end. I always thought that was smart, because you get to skip the lunch rush and there's still a lot of choices for meals.”

The man seemed bemused by the comment, but didn't show signs of wanting to take off. That made you regain some of your drunken confidence.

“But you always take a tuna sandwich,” you continued. ”That's it. Every day. You never buy anything else. It's always the tuna sandwich at eleven forty-five.”

He let out a confused chuckle, the ghost of a teasing smile on his lips.

“I didn't realize I had an audience.”

His presence had been so hypnotic you barely even realized what you had been saying.

‘Oh God, that sounded creepy, didn't it?’

“Don't flatter yourself,” you quickly added, embarrassed, looking away to stare at a particularly interesting stain on the floor. “I look at what everyone's doing. It's my job to.”

He hummed mirthfully, his golden gaze fully amused now:

“And what job would that be? Voyeur?”

You almost choked on your own spit.

“Guidance councillor, smart guy,” you countered, feeling your cheeks heat up. How was a stranger rattling you this much? You were usually the one whose words left others confused. “I look at people, and I figure out what they want in life. I help them find careers. I’ll have you know that's an extremely important task, mister-”

You squinted at the sticky nametag on his chest, trying to decipher the very slanted handwriting. You vaguely remembered the blue stickers were reserved for teachers.

“…Professor…?” you struggled weakly, hoping he would fill in the illegible part.

He thankfully seemed to find your attempt more endearing than insulting.

“Just call me Viktor,” he answered with a sincere smile. His lips were slightly crooked, the left dimple just barely more present on his left side than his right. There was a tiny little beauty spot next to his cupid bow; the thought that it would be nice to lick it just to confirm it wasn't a speck of the chocolate cake flashed in your mind.

‘Focus, focus!’

“Tell me, Viktor,” you cleared your throat. You had to get it together. This was the longest conversation you had been able to maintain with a fellow faculty member without them looking like they wanted to run away. “Why tuna? There's so many other sandwiches to choose from. You could take the egg salad, or the turkey sub, or the spicy chicken…”

You were definitely being too insistent on the tuna thing. If he didn't think you were weird before, he would now.

And yet Viktor still didn't leave. He considered your question seriously, taking a few thoughtful seconds to answer:

“It's the only one with multigrain bread. Very low fat for a good source of omega-3 and protein. And I don't dislike it, so it makes the most sense as a daily meal,” he mused, almost like it was the first time he had ever thought about it, too.

Huh.

“That's a sad way of looking at things,” you commented before thinking.

Before you could mentally swear at your debilitating lack of restraint, Viktor countered the statement with seemingly genuine curiosity:

“How so?”

You had a chance to say something cute and short, and leave the topic at that. It would be a major win for you; your first enjoyable talk with a coworker. Maybe you would even exchange email addresses by the end of the night.

Or…

You could be yourself. Let the floodgate of constant thoughts and observations pour out for a minute. Show this random handsome man who you were, really.

Had you not been drunk and sound of mind, you would have gone for the former. But as it happened, you were quite drunk, and you chose the latter. You took a deep breath before speaking:

“Means you only value food as something that's needed, like taste and flavour isn’t important. You deny yourself basic pleasures out of fear you'll get used to them and grow complacent. You're probably the type of guy who slaves away in his office for hours, not even realizing he's hungry, because it's lost all relevance to him.”

The silence that followed felt eerie. The expression on Viktor's face was blank, mouth barely agape, brows slightly furrowed. You had fucked it up, again.

“Sorry,” you muttered, feeling incredibly foolish. “That was overstepping.”

“No, actually,“ Viktor responded almost eagerly, the sparkle in his eyes bright, “Keep going. What else can you tell?”

There was palpable interest in his tone, in the way his body leaned slightly closer to yours. He wanted to know. He wanted to listen to you.

“The tuna sandwich is twenty-five cents cheaper than all the other ones,” you continued slowly, afraid of breaking the spell that was keeping him attentive to your words. “Usually a sign of a lower class upbringing, shows that you're used to thinking with a controlled budget, even if you don't need to anymore. You likely value hard work and commitment.”

You paused once more to gauge his reaction, but he didn't say anything, clearly waiting for you to continue. So, you did.

“It's always eleven forty-five sharp. You're precise, mechanical. Probably in the department of medicine, or some form of applied science. Am I right?”

“Biomechanical engineering,” he specified with a baffled smile. “Incredible. All that from a sandwich?”

You shrugged, feeling giddy under the weight of the compliment. It was so utterly rare that anyone would actually enjoy your rambling.

“I notice things about people, and I tell them. Couldn’t quite cut it as a detective or a psychologist, so it makes me an ok guidance counsellor,” you smiled, adding an audible wince. “But the person you really gotta avoid at parties.”

He laughed at that, a pretty, earnest sound, slightly low and nasal. The kind of laugh that would make the heart of a weaker person skip a beat.

You blamed the fact that yours did in fact skip a beat entirely on the alcohol.

“I-I'm sure what you do is a lot more impressive, though,” you quickly stammered out. Why were you stuttering?

He shrugged, bony shoulders visible through his button-up shirt. A few beauty marks decorated his neck where the collar didn't reach; you wondered how many more the fabric was hiding.

“Eh, I wouldn't bet on that. Gait analysis, prosthetic limb design. Much less creative than one might think,” he commented with a certain indifferent boredom; yet there was a certain light in his eyes that spoke otherwise. Maybe he was also the type of person people didn’t listen to much. “But it does feel rewarding to do something for others who might not have my luck.”

He pointed down with his chin, and for the first time since you began talking to him, you realized he was holding a cane.

You, whose only redeeming quality was having good observational skills, hadn't noticed the man you had been talking to for the last ten minutes was holding a cane. A refined-looking one at that, with a deep burgundy tainted wood for the shaft, and a sleek handle the colour of tarnished gold. ‘Maybe if you stopped looking at his face for a goddamn second you would have noticed’ you scolded yourself.

“Ah,” you blurted out pathetically. “That's… that's really cool.” You were looking at his fingers. You were looking at his long, slim fingers holding his cane, calloused yet delicate, and you were imagining them in places they should definitely not be in.

You had absolutely no idea what you had just said to him.

Yet Viktor only seemed more amused, his smirk growing ever so slightly.

“Yes, I also like to think of it as ‘cool’, from time to time.”

A drink. What you needed was another drink. Then perhaps you would reach a level of enlightenment where you would remember how to not look like a complete fool in front of attractive professors, who probably did quantum physics as a hobby.

As if he had read your mind, Viktor shifted in the direction of the drinks table, giving you a knowing smile. Were you so easy to read, or was he simply so good at reading you?

“I’d offer to bring you a glass of wine, but I believe that may have been your original intention before reading my palm,” he joked.

‘It's nothing like fortune telling, it's just logical analysis !’ part of you wanted to retort.

‘Give me your palm and I'll show you what my real fucking intentions are,’ purred the other one.

If you didn't get out of here now, you would say something that would definitely end your career before it had even taken off.

“I think I'll probably head home for the night. I've already had a little too much to drink,” you smiled hesitantly. Understatement of the century.

You could have sworn you saw a flash of disappointment in his eyes. Then again, you had probably imagined it. If anything, he was likely relieved he had finally managed to escape the babbling lunatic. Someone like him, so brilliant and accomplished, had no reason to willingly listen to the ramblings of a glorified high school school councillor.

But…

“But… maybe you could give me your number?” you asked hesitantly, taking one final, vulnerable leap of faith. “Just for work, of course!”, you added hastily.

Viktor did not seem angry or disgusted at the proposal; in fact, his smile widened, revealing a slightly uneven row of teeth. Cute. Everything about him was attractive.

“I would like that,” Viktor said softly, amber eyes warm. “I did enjoy hearing you talk.”

Your heart made a heavy, dull thud. With a small wave, he was gone, disappearing somewhere into the crowd like he had been nothing more than a hallucination conjured up by the cheap wine.

Your first work friend.

A potential real friend. Someone who genuinely didn't seem to hate the sound of your voice.

It was much too precious to lose over some passing, drunken attraction. You absolutely had to crush these emotions now to prevent them from becoming anything serious. After all, it wasn't like you had a shadow of chance with someone like him.

Perhaps for the first time in your life, you decided to stay silent about something, no matter what would happen in the future.

He couldn't know.

You would never let him know.

[disneyprincemuke]

the pet obsession * fem!driver

instances where max verstappen influenced her to get a pet

pairings: max verstappen x fem!driver, sebastian vettel x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver

warnings: -

notes: this took me forever to write BECAUSE? and, there will be more! i imagine she's sort of a pokemon collector like alex with all his pets LMFAO

(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)

-> australia, 2023

she never actually wanted a pet. never in her life did she find the responsibilities and inconvenience of owning a pet was for her. especially when she had her own — more important — things going on.

until max started gushing about his cats in the club, blabbering about how adorable jimmy and sassy were when he last saw them a couple of days ago.

the thought of coming home to barks and meows were never in your peripheral vision when becoming an adult. suddenly it is, seeing all your friends and colleagues having pets of their own. how cuddly and warm it looks to have an animal cuddle up to your side at the end of the day.

“you know, you’re convincing me to get a pet!” she screams over the music, body still moving along to the beat of the song. “you sold me on the cuddles!”

“seriously?” the drunk dutch asks, stumbling to keep his phone in his pocket. “a pet or a cat?”

“pets, in general!” she laughs, taking a step towards him. she beckons him towards her, the older driver bending down to put his ear by her mouth. “i used to be allergic when i was a kid.”

max raises his eyebrows, pulling away. “not anymore, though?”

“not anymore!”

that’s when max stands up straight, losing his balance slightly. he holds his arms up to regain it as a wide smile creeps on his face. “follow me.”

“what fo– okay,” she says, but not before max already has a firm grip on her wrist and is threading the crowd on the dancefloor with her.

she doesn’t ask questions, why would she when the two-time world champion is being so nice and friendly to her? considering this is one of the rare times he’s starting to really open up to her too.

“where are we going?” she asks softly, tiptoeing for max to be able to hear her. she tries glancing at his phone when they stop by the doors of the club, but he only shakes his head and moves the phone away from her sight. “okay.”

“trust me. you’ll love me after tonight.” max turns towards the door, grip on her wrist again.

but before she can follow suit, sebastian is now standing over the doorframe with a hand held up to stop them. “where are you going?” he glances down at their hands. “you’re not trying to eliminate competition, are you, max?”

max tilts his head, eyebrows furrowing as he follows the older man’s gaze. he gasps loudly and drops her hand, jumping a step away from her. “no, absolutely not!”

“then where are you going?”

“to find her a pet,” max points at the younger girl with an innocent grin. “she said she wants one.”

“what?” she exclaims, a soft smack landing on his arms. “i said i was convinced, not that i want one right now!”

“where were you going to find her a pet?” sebastian’s eyebrows furrow as well, the complexity of the situation not fully processing in his intoxicated brain. “it’s 2am, you guys. it’s closed everywhere.”

max presses his lips together. “i saw a stray cat outside before we came in.”

“oh, that cat is adorable!” she gushes, a hand coming up to cup her own cheeks. she remembers how the cat butted its head on her calves as they awaited for someone to let them in.

“right? if i didn’t have two territorial cats of my own, i’d totally take it home with me right now.”

“you’re right! let’s get the cat!”

sebastian holds his arm out, swiftly catching the girl stomping her way towards the door.

“hey!” she shrieks, a look of disbelief replacing her once ecstatic expression.

“you’re not taking a random stray cat back. your mother will kill me if you catch a disease,” sebastian sighs. he turns back to max with a stern finger point. “you should know better, max! come on!”

max drops his head, lips pouted. “you’re right. we’ll get you a proper, vaccinated cat, (y/n).”

“okay, let’s get back to the dance floor,” sebastian groans, pushing them gently further into the club. he shakes his head. “seriously, i turned my head for one second!”

“oscar,” she slurs, dropping her weight into her friend’s arms.

“get a grip, come on,” oscar mutters, hands wrapping around her torso to keep her from falling. “you didn’t even drink that much — why are you being like this?”

“seb wouldn’t let me get a cat,” she sighs, her hair falling to cover the sides of her face. she pushes herself off the australian and stumbles a couple of steps to the side, propping herself up on a lamp post. “so rude.”

“i can hear you,” sebastian scoffs, his hand around max’s arm to keep him upright while stepping out of the bar. “it’s just dangerous if it’s a stray cat. you’ve got to bring them to the vet for the initial check up and everything.”

“yeah, but i m- oh my gosh!” she shrieks, hands cupping her cheeks again. they all look at what’s caught her attention, the same cat that max was talking about earlier now at her feet once more. “oh, you’re still here! hello there!”

“(y/n),” oscar says, pulling her back gently. “seb literally just explained why you shouldn’t get a stray cat.”

“but he loves me, look at him!” she squeals, the cat rubbing its side on her feet. the cat makes figure 8’s around her ankles, its tail brushing past her calves while rubbing his head on her. “i have to take her home, oscar!”

“oh, he chose you!” max exclaims, eyes wide and pointing at the black cat. “that cat absolutely ignored the living shit out of me earlier!”

“max,” sebastian sighs, grabbing his shoulders. max cranes his neck, meeting sebastian’s eyes with a tired smile. “shut up.”

when he looks back at her, the girl is now bent down to the ground, reaching forward to take the cat into her arms.

“oh, baby!” she coos, juggling the willing cat in her arms as it meows at her. “seb, i have to bring him home! he loves me!”

oscar’s lips carve into a scowl, exchanging a worried glance with sebastian.

sebastian shakes his head and lets go of max, walking towards the girl. max stumbles, arms coming up to stabilise himself from the sudden loss of the man holding him up. “(y/n), the process will be long and crazy.”

oscar jogs on over to him, replacing sebastian to hold him up. “if she gets this cat, mate…”

“then that’s good. will give her more responsibilities,” max mutters somewhat soberly, pointing at the girl stepping away cautiously from sebastian. “it’s a good benchmark.”

“seb, no!” she shrieks, taking more steps back as sebastian continually approaches her with her arms held out to take the cat. “he already has a name — you can’t possibly take him from me!”

“your mother will shave my head if we go back home with some random street cat in your arms,” sebastian sighs, rubbing his forehead. “for all you know, it could be someone’s cat.”

she frowns, now carrying the cat over her shoulder like a baby. she looks around, the bouncer of the club looking straight ahead as if they hadn’t caused this much commotion.

“hey,” she calls out towards him. “excuse me, bouncer, sir!” he turns to look at her, a welcoming grin on his face. “is this anybody’s cat?”

he presses his lips together, glancing at sebastian’s impatient stare. alas, he can’t lie to the teary eyed girl hugging the cat for dear life. “no, ma’am. he’s a stray cat.”

“thank you!” she smiles, then turning to sebastian with a knowing grin. “i told you. this cat is mine now!”

“what’s his name?” max asks excitedly, stumbling forward to pet the cat on its head.

the girl stands proud and tall, adjusting the cat to face the rest of the group. “his name is kidnapper.”

“that’s gotta be some form of animal abuse,” oscar shakes his head disapprovingly. “why would you name your cat that?”

“because it’s funny,” she says, giving him a stare. “his nickname will be ‘kid’! like seb calls me!”

she grins at sebastian, the older man only folding his arms and breaking their eye contact. “i guess that’s kinda cute.”

“it is cute.”

-> monaco, 2023

“mate,” max looks up from his phone, turning to look at the younger driver sitting on his couch. “you know where we should go?”

she lifts her eyebrow, still patting the jimmy that sits on her lap comfortably. “what?”

“there’s a pet shop nearby. kelly and i walked past it the other day — there’s a really adorable puppy that i think you might like,” max grins, raising an eyebrow at her. “it’s a corgi.”

she pushes herself off the back of the couch, sitting up straight. “a corgi?”

“yeah, a corgi.”

jimmy steps off her lap, allowing her to stand up. “what are you waiting for? let’s go.”

max grabs her back, shaking his head before they make it to the door. “won’t sebastian get mad at us though? another pet from another foreign country. really?”

she lets her stare at him linger. on one hand, she already has a cat she managed to bring home from one race. what’s another?

she shrugs. “i’ll just name it after him or something.”

max raises his eyebrow. “you sure?”

“yeah, maybe i just won’t tell him until it’s too late.”

"seriously? another pet?" sebastian shouts, staring at the corgi sleeping at the edge of her bed. "you gotta stop adopting pets from other countries, you know. it's not cheap!"

"but how can say no to this face?" she coos, moving over to the dog, pouting while leaning her head on it. "you're a dog person, seb. i know you'd never say no to this face."

sebastian shakes his head. "you can barely keep up with kidnapper in your apartment. what are you going to do with a whole ass dog?"

she presses her lips together, before forming a grin on her face. "blythe will look after them while i'm gone. no big deal."

"not the point."

"totally the point. max helped me get this one!" she cheers, patting the corgi's head. "his name is stubby; we got him from the pet store near his apartment."

sebastian just sighs, shaking his head. he turns around and heads towards the door of her hotel room. "as long as you can get him back without any problems. this is no longer any of my business."

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @inejismywife @vellicora @leilanixx @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @love4lando

[bluemooniegif]

Soukoku's first meeting could not have been written more perfectly. Allow me to explain

A quick note on the manga panels: these are fan translations from BSD Bibliophile. At one stage they refer to Dazai as 'the youngest boss in Mafia history,' and the executive meeting as 'a meeting of five bosses.' This is just a stylistic choice! All of the panels shown here are from chapters 8 (volume 2), 10 & 11 (volume 3)

I love this scene more than life itself, because it is literally the PERFECT introduction to Chuuya, his character, and his relationship with Dazai. Let's talk about it!

First: some context. Dazai seems to be in a bit of a predicament- he's walked right into a trap set by the Port Mafia, an organisation that we don't know much about at this stage in the story. What we do know, and what we can observe, is this:

Dazai is a former executive, and appears to have walked into the trap on purpose

He is now being held in a room that Akutagawa describes very negatively- the fact of being here is dangerous

Dazai reveals that Akutagawa was once his subordinate, and that he thought very lowly of him at the time. He claims to still think of him this way. Akutagawa has a violent reaction to this.

This is a PERFECT example of 'showing, not telling' within a story. Rather than making a bunch of asides, describing what Dazai and Akutagawa are feeling and why, Asagiri & Harukawa have plopped us into the middle of a rather awkward reunion. I feel like I've walked into my friend's Christmas dinner and am now witnessing family politics unfold real time. It's like watching a car crash.

Now, we move between settings a bit, jumping around to watch Yosano DESTROY Kajii, Atsushi rescue Kyouka, and subsequently be injured and kidnapped by Akutagawa. We watch the Agency fall into disarray when Fukuzawa demands that everyone go looking for Atsushi- interesting, considering that Dazai is IN THE BASEMENT OF THE PORT MAFIA RIGHT NOW.

I've had lots of discussions and arguments about the meaning and significance of this. I won't delve too deep into it for now, but the way I see it is this: something the ADA is really REALLY good at is splitting up Mystery-Inc. style and working to solve cases etc., together, but apart. Dazai is also something of a stray dog (... cat), regularly wandering off and reappearing of his own accord. He's been with the ADA for several years at this point, and they would understand the way he operates well. Even if there's no indication whether he explicitly told anyone what he's doing or where he's going (which honestly, does that matter, when Ranpo would know immediately anyway?), we can safely assume that this is more or less a regular thing for them.

Anyway, back to the point. the Agency is not fazed by Dazai's disappearance... and neither, for some reason, is Dazai. He stands chained to the wall in the PM's basement- the same one, we discover later, where he's brutally tortured countless victims and traitors, and he's humming a little tune to himself, smiling, totally relaxed. We as the audience know he's pretty unflappable, and Akutagawa's expression when he sees him confirms this, too.

But. BUT. This doesn't last.

With the ADA descending into chaos, we switch perspectives back to Dazai again. He's bored at this stage, and thinking to himself that they must be searching for Atsushi soon (an indication that he was riling Akutagawa up earlier, btw) when he hears it: A voice that makes his resolve crack. A look of panic on his face that, at this stage, we haven't seen yet.

He turns, and we see Chuuya for the first time! He's got this strange smug look on his face, something deeply vindictive. Here's a current mafia executive, and he's so happy to see Dazai chained to the wall of their Torture Basement that you can't help but wonder... is there something that Dazai did to him, personally, that makes him feel this way? Or is this guy just so deeply involved with the PM that the fact Dazai left is like a personal slight against him?

Now, we don't really have long enough to truly panic over this predicament, because almost immediately these two fall into their old habits. Dazai isn't PLEASED, but he isn't afraid. He goes right into bantering with Chuuya, who surprisingly meets him right in the middle. Their regular dynamic shines right through: it's quick-witted quips, inside jokes, and knowing looks. It's this odd relaxation in their posture. In all of this, we have an acknowledgement of what they were, and evidence to suggest that they still are... whatever that thing is. Whatever you wanna call it: partners, boyfriends, best friends, buddies. That much is up to interpretation; the only undeniable fact is that they once knew each other better than themselves, and still do.

Then, the fight. This, to me, comes across as more of a way to display how powerful they both are individually: Chuuya punches concrete so hard it shatters in several places, Dazai snaps his fingers and breaks out of handcuffs.

We have front-row seats to what is in my opinion one of the best action sequences in early BSD, not just for what physically transpires, but what it tells us: they deeply understand each other on multiple levels. They're constantly predicting each other's moves, and they know where each other's weak spots are.

But there's also been a lot of growth. Dazai surprises Chuuya a few times, and vice-versa. Despite their apparent closeness, it's still clear that they haven't been together like this for a long, long time.

Then, they reach checkmate. It appears as though Chuuya has won, and we're fed some more Dazai lore- he was the youngest executive the PM ever saw.

This is how Chuuya remembers Dazai. Again, I want to remind you that this is the first time so far we're seeing PM-zai, and he is worlds away from the Dazai we've grown to know so far.

Though Chuuya seems to have driven Dazai into a corner, the roles are quickly reversed when Dazai claims to know something about a meeting between all five of the Mafia's executives. Chuuya quickly realises this is one of his 'predictions,' further proving the depth of their mutual understanding.

With hindsight, we know just how big a deal a meeting of this scale is, and knowing a certain stormbro (who I won't reveal just in case of spoilers) will be there makes me lose my mind, personally. It clearly affects Chuuya, as well, which was undoubtedly Dazai's goal.

With the power balance disrupted again, they quickly fall back into that same bantering dynamic. The volatile nature of their relationship is so perfectly portrayed within this short scene that it actually makes me sick, I genuinely don't think it could have been more perfect

Anyway. Chuuya has realised, at this stage, that Dazai had multiple goals when he allowed himself to be kidnapped, and one of those was to piss Chuuya off (which is something I think he could've managed even if Chuuya wasn't physically there). This, in turn, pisses Chuuya off, especially when he realises the predicament Dazai has left him in- let him escape, or the Mafia suffers. A test of loyalty, Chuuya's greatest weakness. Do you understand why I am tearing my hair out and howling at the moon??? This is fucking insanity.

And then, the final moment! The part we all know and love! Not only does Chuuya choose to err on the side of caution, allowing Dazai to escape- he also leaves with the repetition of another inside joke. And Dazai laughs- he looks genuinely happy, too.

That is all. I'm gonna go cry now ಥ_ಥ

read this original thread on twitter

[i-dared-myself]

Home (Yours) For The Holidays

Stray Kids x reader

Requested by anonymous: the reader would be stray kids ninth member and a foreigner.) how do you think it'd be like to spend the holidays with each of the members's families? 🤔ex. i feel like changbin’s family would travel for the holidays or have a fancy dinner (and def wouldn't mind the reader joining them if they couldn't go back to their country to be with her family). 🤗

•You felt really awkward about it, so you decided to spend the holidays by yourself. In your room.

•“I’m glad we got the holidays off,” Changbin remarks, stretching out his arms. “What’s everyone doing?”

•Everyone talks about their plans with family and friends, and then it’s your turn. They all face you expectantly with smiles.

•You clear your throat. “I was thinking uh, of getting takeout. That way I don’t have to cook.”

•Chan grins and tilts his head slightly. “Aw, that’s nice. I totally get families who don’t cook for the holidays. Dishes are a lot of work.”

•You force a smile. It’s embarrassing to have to correct him. “No… It’s just me.”

•Jeongin looks horrified. “You’re eating takeout? By yourself?”

•“Well I don’t really have family around here.” You shrug. “And you guys are my friends.”

•Seungmin swallows. “Oh. Well…”

•“We can’t just let you do that!” Jisung scowls and stands up. “You’ll spend it with us!”

•“What?” You demand. “No! You guys have a good time with your family and friends. I’ll binge my shows here.”

•“But that’s really sad,” Hyunjin says. “Nuh-uh. You’ll spend it with us.”

•You get a whole week off, so the members rotate days with you. You protest, but are flattered by their insistent tries to give you a good time.

•“You’re like the kid that we split between for the holidays!” Felix tells you cheerily. “We just got divorced, and now we’re struggling to evenly split time…”

•You glare at him. “Shut up! I didn’t ask you to do this for me!”

•“Aw, you love us!” Chan teases, scrunching your cheeks together.

•Minho raises his hand. “I claim you tomorrow.”

•“That sounds bad,” Changbin comments. “Don’t say that again.”

•So you spend the next day with Minho. Apparently he didn’t tell anyone that he was bringing you, so they were startled to find a stranger on their doorstep.

•After introductions are made, Minho shoos you off to the living room. It’s slightly awkward, but they warm up to you quickly.

•Minho joins you again and puts out drinks, and you take a mug. He gets scolded for not letting them know you were coming, but you’re assured it’s not your fault.

•They tell you what a pity it is that you won’t be going home to see your family, and how you’re always welcome over. Minho is scowling as they fawn over you.

•The night is pleasant and Minho smiles more than you’d ever seen. You meet his cats and since they apparently like you, now you have to pay each month to see them.

•You call it a subscription service, he calls it feeding his babies.

•The next day is with Jeongin.

•Apparently he forgot you were supposed to go with him, because you wait outside in the cold for ten minutes before texting him. You can’t feel your fingers as you type out your message, and then a call is coming through.

•Jeongin is panicked and says he’s sending someone to come pick you up. You blink and don’t respond for a moment, because what???

•The car ride with a complete stranger is very awkward. You don’t know how they’re related to Jeongin, but you’re just hoping you got into the right vehicle and aren’t being kidnapped right now.

•When you get at Jeongin’s family’s house, his parents are lecturing him for forgetting about you. He apologizes a gazillion times and vows to never forget you again.

•Then you go to the bathroom, and the house is empty when you’re done. You’re wondering where everyone is, and then your phone buzzes.

•Jeongin is frantically apologizing for forgetting you again and you can hear people yelling at him in the background. They come back to pick you up before taking a walk around the neighbourhood.

•Changbin has apparently chosen the next day with you.

•He tells you to dress fancy, and you try your best to live up to whatever expectations he might have. You put on your best clothes, and you do your hair, stomach rolling with nerves.

•Changbin takes you to a fancy restaurant and introduces you to his family. You’re very unsure of yourself, since this is an entirely different setting than what you’ve experienced so far.

•But you order your meals, and make small talk. There’s a lot of questions about how nice Changbin is or isn’t, and you feel a lot of pressure.

•“He’s, uh-“ You swallow nervously. “Changbin is very polite and kind.”

•They all nod along and Changbin’s face is red as they talk about how they raised him right. But then the conversation swerves to embarrassing childhood stories and he desperately puts an end to it.

•Hyunjin takes you to his house the next day.

•It’s a quiet evening, and you would even call it refined. At least, more so than your average day with Stray Kids.

•They show you the finger paintings Hyunjin made as a child, gushing about how they always knew he would be talented. You smile along, taking photos for later.

•They let you take photos of baby pictures as well, and you’re practically giddy. You’re going to show them to everyone else and there’s nothing he can to do stop you.

•Except he does try to stop you by pinning you to the ground and attempting to steal your phone. You struggle for a moment before screaming, and his mom runs in.

•He gets scolded and is made to apologize to you, although you know you’ll pay for it later. He promises as much before his mom narrows her eyes at him.

•Jisung drags you along on the next day. He isn’t bringing you to hang out with his family, but some old friends instead.

•They’re very eager to hear about what working with/living with/suffering through Jisung all the time is like. You laugh and tell them that he’s great, and get a pitying pat on the back.

•You go out for a meal, and then go out to the mall. You and Jisung wear masks and hats and his friends call him a gang member.

•You reply that he’s not fierce enough for it, and maybe, just maybe, he could be a playground bully. He puffs his chest out in outrage and yells (Loud enough to gather attention from strangers) that he would take your lunch money if he knew you in high school.

•You and his friends both laugh hysterically, making Jisung pout. You feel bad and assure him that he’s very tough, because look at those biceps. He could totally mug someone.

•Jisung nods. “Yeah… I could mug someone if I wanted to.”

•An old lady shuffling by squeaks snd clutches her purse tightly and begins moving at a faster pace.

•Seungmin seems reluctant to take you with him.

•You repeatedly tell him that you’re more than happy to stay home, but he shakes his head and forces you into the car. Seungmin introduces you to his family and they all smile at you.

•“So this is the friend he’s always talking about,” his dad remarks, grinning from ear to ear. “He speaks so highly of you.”

•The tips of Seungmin’s ears turn a bright red and he mumbles to you how they’re lying. How he’s never talked about you because he hates you.

•You rub his shoulder with a smug smile. “Sure. But I know that you loooove me and I’m your bestest frieeend.”

•He flicks your forehead as everyone files inside. That night, you see his bright smile. The I’m-truly-happy smile, snd it’s contagious.

•He seems to be in his element, and you’re so glad he let you tag along. He even lets you hold his hand when you walk home because he’s in such a good mood.

•You spend the last day with Felix and Chan.

•They tend to miss their family as well, so they hang out together. You’re honoured to be invited to their little tradition, as exhausted as you are from the week.

•Felix nudges you at the boba store you went to, reminding you to order. Chan gets yours from the counter when it’s ready, handing it to you.

•You’re mostly quiet and let them do most of the talking, listening with a happy smile. It’s light-hearted and relaxing.

•You finish your boba as you watch a movie with them. They’re on the fifth one in the series, but you don’t mind. You know you’re about to fall asleep anyway, so it doesn’t really matter.

•As they try and adjust you so you’re more comfortable on the couch, you mumble out a slurred, “G’day, mate.”

•Chan sighs fondly, shaking his head. He and Felix resume the movie, quietly discussing how much the week must have tired you out.

Taglist:

@velvetmoonlght @jinnie-ret @hansmic @imeverycliche @iwuberic @mbioooo0000 @strawberryscentedd @lezleeferguson-120

[gliphyartfan]

Thanks for answering my ask! Hope it wasn't too weird skfj

I feel like the first time she hugs anyone back be it Hyrule or Twilight (wolfie. Wolfie gets it first) and everyone else wants to know what happened she immediately gaslights them all like "I have no idea what you're talking about. That never happened. Y'all sure you aren't hallucinating again?" (this does not work on any of them but they do it anyway because ✨denial✨) Once she's more comfortable she's probably stopping mid hug at some point to ask if they're doing it right (still keeps the knife though. just in case. probably has extras stashed away somewhere)

Probably also the type of person who accidentally throws punches when spooked. Has done this to Sky once and sulked for the rest of the day bc they felt awful about it

Again, huge fan of tropes where people are basically just stray cats so thanks for indulging my thoughts lol

Ohhh, anon, this is gold~

I love the image of (y/n) reluctantly hugging Wolfie first because, y’know, he’s just a wolf, right? Nothing suspicious, totally normal. (Twilight would be so smug, but only after he shifts back to his Hylian form where she can’t see his tail wagging like crazy.)

And the gaslighting? Ha! I approve!

“Me? Hug? Pfft. Never happened. Y’all need to get your heads checked. Next, you’ll be saying I bake cookies for y’all every week or something, oh wait, that’s just Wild hallucinating again.” (Everyone: 👀)

The “Am I doing this right?” mid-hug moment would just wreck them. Like, imagine you’ve been dreaming of this day, you’re finally getting a hug from the most stubborn, self reliant, knifehoarding person you know, and then they stop to nervously ask if they’re doing it correctly. 🥺 Heart. Melted.

‘Is this okay? Should I… squeeze more? Less? Wait, am I crushing your ribs?!’

‘No, no, you’re perfect..’ Time would insist, voice cracking a little, trying not to tear up while the others glare daggers because they wanted a turn first.

Also YES on the stray cat vibes! She’s got the knife, she’s got the extra knives, and she accidentally decks Sky in the face when he spooks her. The poor man’s just trying to give her a plate of snacks, and BAM! Sky’s on the ground with a bloody nose, and she’s sitting there sulking because oops, her bad.

Sky: I-it’s fine! I’m fine! This is fine! -Bleeding profusely but trying to downplay it.-

(y/n): ‘…I hate it here.’

(He gets hugs as an apology later, cause she DOES feel super guilty. But he should know she doesn’t like being snuck up on!)

Honestly, the Chain would probably love this about her, though. She’s like this weird mix of feral and soft, and they’re (of course) obsessed. They’d absolutely gang up on her with hugs once she starts tolerating them more, and she’d just be stuck in the middle of a Hero Pile™, knives stashed under the cushions completely useless against the sheer weight of their affection.

Anon, your thoughts are perfect, and I hope you know I’m grinning ear to ear writing this. Keep ‘em coming!

[hitomisuzuya]

Hi Suzu! Lunar new year is coming soon. So how about petting cats with Scara, Wanderer, Kuni in their home at that night? Your fluff is so adorable and it makes my day. Hoping your will have a nice day.

Nonsense fluff❤️ No real warnings.

I know a lot of you are probably getting fed up with me. I'm sorry this is so late.

There are a total of three once stray cats in the house, all three of which Scaramouche brought home, saying "Pea-brained creatures can't survive by themselves," Complete with his trademark scoff and eye roll to cover up the fact that he really wanted cats.

Scaramouche was laughing as he dangled a strand yarn in front of one of the cats. You sighed as the cat hissed, trying to swipe at his face. It was clear that he was antagonizing the cat.

"Scaramouche, be nice to Scarameow," You chided, picking up Scarameow and putting him in your lap. Scarameow glared at Scaramouche, purring quietly as you pet him.

"When are you going to give them proper names?" Scaramouche asked, dismayed. To which you 'hmphed' in response.

You had your reasons calling them Kunimeow, Scarameow, and Wanderermeow. All three cats had exact mirrors of their counterpart's personalities. Kunimeow was sweet and attentive. Wanderermeow was quiet and standoffish, but enjoyed affection. And Scarameow was hissy and grumpy.

Just like Scaramouche.

You thought the names were pretty fitting. Kunimeow was meowing loudly, trying to climb in your lap for attention. You snuck a quick glance at Scaramouche, seeing him looking at the cats in your lap like he was jealous of them for soaking up your attention.

Wanderermeow seemed to want to poke at him as well, sitting next to you and rubbing his cheek against your arm.

"Scara, do you remember what happened the last time you antagonized Scarameow like that?" You asked. You thought you heard Kunikuzushi cover up a soft laugh behind his hand.

"I do, Scarameow bitch slapped him," Wanderer said, looking up from helping Kunikuzushi finish the cat toy he was making. You laughed hearing Wanderer's explanation, much to Scaramouche's dismay.

"I remember all the cute animal Bandaids Kuni got for your nose," You said, the comment making Scaramouche's cheeks flush. You rubbed Kunimeow's cheek, smiling softly down at the cat as he turned his cheek into your hand.

"They are sleeping on the floor tonight," Scaramouche grumbled, going back to working on his own little project.

A hand sewn cat toy for none other than Scarameow. Not once would ever admit he was making it for the cat outloud. However, you, Kunikuzushi and Wanderer all knew very well who it was for.

"They are not!" Kunikuzushi cut in, looking at you for help. You had a way with Scaramouche that no one else did. If you said the cats were going to sleep on the bed anyways, no matter what he said, Scaramouche would never tell you no in the end.

Scaramouche scoffed as you shook your head. You swore Wanderermeow was sticking his tongue out at Scaramouche as majority rules started to obviously show.

After a few minutes, you heard Scarameow's grumbling hisses. You looked up to see Scaramouche dangling the toy just out of Scarameow's reach.

"Scara, I wouldn't.." You cautioned, however it came too late. With a defiant meow, Scarameow batted his paw against Scaramouche's cheek. He dropped the toy feeling claws catch against his cheek.

Scarameow, successful with his retrieval of the toy hoped up onto the bed. And right onto Scaramouche's pillow.

[purinfelix]

If you are accepting requests for Haikyuu could I please request Kuroo (or Kenma) with this prompt "Are you really jealous of my cat?" Of course you don't have to but if you do take as long as needed!❤️

third wheel - kuroo tetsuro ⋆₊˚⊹♡

w/c: 587 a/n: i can't believe i'm writing haikyuu x reader in the year of our lord and saviour 2025 .... 2020 me would be so proud HAHAHA anyways thanks for the req anon i hope u like this! (it ended up being a lot longer than i had planned but i've always loved kuroo so i couldn't help it)

The question lingers in the air for a couple seconds after leaving his mouth - partially because you're stumped for an answer, but mostly because you're ashamed at being so plainly called out.

"Wh- no?" you scoff, trying to brush it off, rolling over on his bed so that he can't see the look on your face, "Why on earth would I be jealous of him?"

As students, studying together had become a common routine for you and Kuroo, ever since you had started dating a couple months ago. With your chemistry final inching closer, he had insisted on helping you out with some private tutoring at his place - an offer that had sounded too selfless for you not to accept.

Little did you know that, in reality, it involved you spending hours upon hours of going through practice questions and only getting short breaks when your boyfriend would look over your hastily scribbled, and most incorrect, answers. And to make matters worse, your 'private session' was currently being interrupted by Kuroo's calico cat and your sworn enemy, Leo - though if there was anyone third-wheeling you were sure it was you.

To set the story straight, you had been Kuroo's first love, at least before that cat had stolen him away from you - a stray he had taken in just a little over a month ago, but had since taken over his life. Already he had rushed the both of you back to his place just to feed it, cutting whatever night out you had planned short. At first, it had been endearing, the sight of Kuroo being so gentle with an, admittedly very cute, creature - but the more time you spent around it the more you came to resent the tiny ball of fur.

You were fully aware of how immature you were being - after all, you were his girlfriend and Leo was his pet cat. This was exactly why you had stuck yourself on the edge of his bed, watching with a furrowed brow as he read over your work - spinning a pen in one hand and petting Leo's head with the other.

"C'mon, admit it, you're totally jealous!" Kuroo's teasing tone snaps you back to the present, and to the fact that he's shamelessly confronting you.

"Don't flatter that tiny thing, we all know who you'd pick first," you scoff, though you should've known that your boyfriend's observance would be able to see right through your facade. Before you can think of another defensive quip he's standing up from his desk chair, making Leo leap off his lap with a high-pitched mewl.

He throws himself down beside where you're perched on his bed, gazing up at you with an expression that's equal parts amused and endeared.

"Don't deny it," he hums, "it's a little cute."

"It's ridiculous! I am not jealous," you continue your defence as you lean back on your elbows, but can slowly feel it slipping as he wraps an arm around your waist.

"Cute," he repeats through a smile, though this time it's more to himself than anything.

"Whatever," you sigh, trying to cross your arms but he's already pulling himself up to press soft kisses along your jawline, and you can't help but break into a reluctant smile. Once he sees you give in, you can feel his own mouth curving into a smile against your skin as you run your fingers through his hair with a soft laugh.

"Though your understanding of Avogadro's law could use some work."

"Shut up."

[verdantcrimson]

Kanna Natsu Idol Story - 1

Written by: Akira

Season: Spring

TL: verdantcrimson

Proofread: @revuestarlight

[Two years since ES was established. In a corridor of an ES building leading to the Starpro office]

Kanna: Thank you very much for helping me, Miss Anzu.

Kanna: As you can see, I am a child, so escaping from a situation where I am surrounded by a crowd of adults is difficult.

Kanna: Though, if I had used my head, I think I might have been able to escape, call for help, and have my pursuers apprehended.

Kanna: But using my brain on those people is a total hassle.

Kanna: A complete, and total, hassle.

Kanna: … Yes? No, I’m not lost. 

Kanna: So you’re the type of person that judges people based on their appearance, right.

Kanna: No, I’m not criticizing you. Just categorizing.

Kanna: I find talking to other people to be a hassle.

Kanna: Ideally, I would like to be able to have a conversation by categorizing people as much as I can, and then only using a fixed set of phrases that correspond to that category.

Kanna: I want to have conversations using only a set of standardized phrases, like: “For sure”, “Maybe”, “That’s nice”, and the like.

Kanna: A computer could do that. It could handle things with just some numbers and a program.

Kanna: Why can’t the same method of operation work for humans?

Kanna: Ah, It’s okay. I wasn’t actually looking for an answer from you. It was just a question I asked myself, and presented.

Kanna: Please don’t worry. I will think for myself and find the answers to all of my questions.

Kanna: Yes. I have no expectations of you, or anyone else.

Kanna: Now, if you would excuse me. And really, thank you very much for helping me out just now.

Kanna: … Hm. Yes, what is it?

Kanna: Quite the annoyance you—

Kanna: Aren’t. Yes, yes, how can I help you?

Kanna: Yes. No, I’m affiliated with ES.

Kanna: I’m Kanna Natsu, and I’ve recently begun working as an idol here.

Kanna: Yes. People say that I’m like a stray cat that can’t quite get used to humans. It means I am ‘Natsu Kanna-ected’ with and don’t miss other people. Quite interesting, right?

Kanna: Would it be better if I had laughed? But that would be a hassle.

Kanna: I think my life would be much easier if I at least learned to smile politely, but that really is such a hassle.

Kanna: Yes. Ah, you know about me? I thought so too.

Kanna: I have long since concluded that I am like an exotic creature that has a tendency to make the headlines of newspapers and magazines.

Kanna: The people pursuing me earlier were magazine reporters that have been following me around recently.

Kanna: The entertainment industry is a world where you could throw a stone into the crowd and hit a genius, quite literally, so I didn’t see the need to bring it up.

Kanna: When humans see something behaving oddly, it’s surprising and interesting to them, it seems.

Kanna: That sort of sensibility, I envy it.

Kanna: Ah, I wasn’t being sarcastic. I honestly envy it. It’s quite tedious to have to add a note clarifying my intent at the end of each and every sentence.

Kanna: Hm. Eh? You’re asking me if I’m a celebrity…?

Kanna: So you only knew who I was because of me being a new idol, Miss Anzu? You remember seeing my name and face on the roster?

Kanna: I get it. Yes, I see you are that kind of person. I understand now.

Kanna: So. It seems I have overestimated my importance.

Kanna: That’s right. There are people who don’t know who I am. Heh.

Kanna: Ah, that was my first laugh in fifteen days. Tomorrow, my facial muscles are going to be sore.

Kanna: Thank you very much. I was able to have a rare experience.

Kanna: …Hm? Yes, anything else?

Kanna: I am an ES-affiliated idol, so you should know that it isn’t out of the ordinary for me to be walking around here.

Kanna: Do you not understand this? It would be a hassle if you didn’t.

Kanna: Hm. So you thought that there might still be reporters remaining around the area? You thought to call for security, just in case?

Kanna: ……

Kanna: “A kind and gentle person”, “A respectable member of society”, “A very noble, goddess-like person”.

Kanna: Of these three, which do you prefer?

Kanna: I would like to present you with an evaluation. Because I appreciate your concern, and your words are commendable.

Kanna: However. I am inexperienced at communicating with people, so I don’t know which words would be most touching.

Kanna: That is why, I would like you to pick what words I should give you.

Kanna: That is all. ...Is that wrong of me to do?

[irazai]

 . . . (🍷) ֶָ֢ 𔓘 LURE ME IN, PULL ME OUT. SAVE ME ; a osamu dazai fic. ❞

❛ ━━ ･ ❪ did i not die yet?

my heart beats and pumps,

pumps the blood which flows throughout,

though tonight i throw up this blood.

blood coats my hand red,

if i had died, why would i bled?

fleeting through my fingers,

fingers of mine tries to grasp my life,

life which i tried to grasp all this while!

blood coats the floor red,

and red it became the more i bleed.

fleeting is this life though my heart beats,

i am not dead yet, though i bleed.

soon my fate will meet death.

and i will die, won't i? ❫ ･ ━━ ❜

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍷 ꒱ . . . i don't really expect this one to be liked as this is an experimental fic anyway but I still want to know your opinion on it if you read it.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍷 ꒱ . . . tw ; pm!dazai, fem!reader, non established relationship, suggestive themes, kissing, fluff (?), angst, somewhat gore.

the weather hasn't really been the most pleasant since the last three or four hours but you assume it to be normal due to the season it came with.

with a hazy gaze, you stare at the dark grey sky outside as you wait for the first reaction to happen, for the first drop of rain to descend from its grace and onto the hard earth ground.

was this what icarus felt too?

but then again icarus wasn't a teenager in love with a boy who looked at love as not feelings and emotions but rather as chemical reactions and hormones stimulated by the brain.

icarus burned. you do too. perhaps not in the same way but you burn too.

"are you waiting for cats too dear?" a voice so gentle yet tired spoke up and you looked up to see an elderly woman smiling kindly at you. your eyes fell down to see a group of stray cats and you pondered.

her voice felt so warm admist the coldness of the weather that clinged to your skin.

you looked back up at the old woman and nodded, smiling a bit. "yeah. a grumpy one."

the old lady laughed at your words and she approached you, sitting down on the steps of your house next to you and the stray cats followed her. there were five in total, you counted as they surrounded the old lady's feet.

one of the five cats pawed at your leg. you looked down at it and extended your hand to pet it's head before you looked up at the sky again in deep thought.

"so when does your grumpy cat come?" the old lady's voice reached your ears, her words were pure but why did it still feel like she was laughing at you?

mocking you for being so hopeless.

"whenever he wants to." you whisper out. if the old lady wasn't sitting next to you, she wouldn't have heard you. your words were too sad to her though ignorance is bliss. the old lady thought nothing much of your words as she laughed.

"dearie, that's cats for you -- especially stray ones. they come and go. not having a proper house. no owner who showers them with love and so when we give them love, they get confused. they feel weird and dislike it. they leave. and when they are away -- they realize. they want it back. and so these cute furballs come back to get confused again." her words held years of experience. they soothed you and gave you a reason behind the behavior that hurts, effortlessly brightening your mood. it almost felt unnatural how easily her words convinced you and settled within you as if she's luring you in her.

you smiled at the old lady albeit weakly but your lips were tugged upwards by genuine gratitude and hope as you smiled at her, filled with fascination towards her.

"though love is like kummatty or the pied piper of hamelin. it lures you in even when you know it's dangerous. so dearie --" the old lady's voice suddenly dropped down a few octaves as a grave expression took over her old and wrinkled features. you would've have found it a bit unsettling had it not been for the cat at your feet that had your undivided attention. " -- be careful while loving, it'll lure you in one day and . . . even if it isn't love, something else will lure you in."

you felt the old lady shifting next to you before she stood up, causing you to twist your neck to look up at her. the old woman smiled at you kindly and slowly -- as safely as her feeble legs would allow her to -- climbed down the stairs and left. she went on along the sidewalk, though you raised your eyebrows in awe as you saw the five cats following behind her, stumbling and falling over each other. the cats looked like young apprentices following their mentor in olden days where as soon as a kid was old enough to realise how poverty took a liking to his home, he was send off to fend for himself and to bring in some earnings.

you looked at the front again, placing your chin on your knees which were brought near to your chest as you looked up at the sky again, the grey clouds began to clear up a bit though it still looked like it'll rain soon.

the cold breeze made you shiver a bit. though not for long.

you look away from the sky, no longer finding it intresting enough to admire as the images of the cats -- especially the one rubbing itself against your leg -- kept repeating in your mind, making you smile.

how does one get lured?

how does one forget everything and decide to follow a particular path?

"what are you doing outside dumbass?" you hear the cold and void of emotion like voice, causing you to look up to see dazai standing there as he looked down at you with his eyebrows raised, trying to decipher the reason to sit outside during such weather as it's definitely an odd choice.

"waiting for yo --" you stop rather abruptly as you look at him from head to toe to see him covered in blood at many places -- his cheek was stained and so was his white shirt though the black coat hid it well. you looked down and alas so were his boots, stained in blood.

with a panicked urgency, you quickly stood up and grabbed his hand though this time he didn't try to subtly pull it back as he let you step closer to him and leaned in when you placed your palm on his bloodied cheek.

"how did you --"

" -- it's not mine. don't overreact." the mafioso said in a bored tone as he stared at you. he looked at you for a while before he slowly grinned and you wanted to take a step back and shrink into nothingness. that would be better then staring at his cold and empty eyes.

dazai extended his hand to grasp your other wrist, not seeming to mind your sudden stiffness. he had seen this reaction one too many times when curious minds tried to pick apart the mask of the demon but failed, finding the mask glued to the face by some super force.

he tugged at your hand to pull you closer and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into a hug.

dazai osamu is still a child. he does not act like it. but he is the same as you. a teenager. not even seventeen yet.

he is a child at core like you are and even if it may not seem like it, you'll pretend it does.

"you stink." you mumble as you ignore the nervous pleading of your heart, nuzzling your face against his bandaged neck.

"no i don't." dazai replied back as he left a small and quick peck to your hair before he moved back.

you roll your eyes at his denial of this topic, knowing that even he knows how he smells of a mix of cigarettes and blood, the smell lingers and hugs him like a sick stalker.

"why do you even have blood on you?" you asked as you quickly opened the door to your house and stepped aside to let him enter first. with a smug wink aimed at you, dazai entered and took of his shoes.

for being such a peculiar boy, he did have some manners as evident by the way he placed his shoes at one corner. you placed your slippers next to his and locked the door before you followed after him.

"curious kitty. aren't you?" his voice is full of mirth, he looked over his shoulder to let you see his expression which is full of amusement as if he finds it entertaining to watch you try to get some kind of information out of him.

you grumbled as you pushed his shoulder though he only chuckled, not minding the pushes at all.

dazai tried to walk towards the living room but you grabbed the back of his suit coat to pull him towards your room instead and he exclaimed in surprise, though he didn't resist or fight back, simply letting you drag him as if he didn't have enough energy or interest in pushing your hands off.

you led him to the bathroom attached in your room, dazai nearly raised his eyebrows in amusement but stopped himself since he wasn't really amused enough. this house in which only you live isn't surprising to dazai as through his connections, he had dug into your background and found out that this house and some wealth were the will of your grandfather who left it all to you. your parents were out of the picture.

"but really, why are you covered in this much blood?" you ask as you signal him to sit on the sink counter while you kneel down to open the cabinet below, getting out a few clean towel rolls and bandages.

though the bandage roll fell from your hands and rolled on the tiled floor when dazai grabbed your jaw in a quick movement, pulling you towards him as he glared at you. eyes void of emotions but that only makes him more terrifying.

"you are a good girl -- always were and always will be. don't test your luck by being a curious kitten. stay my good girl. don't ask unnecessary questions." his voice is low and calm, his words coming out in a murmur.

your eyes were open wide, you nodded quickly. the sharpness in dazai's eyes disappeared and was replaced by a sudden softness. he stopped grabbing your jaw and instead raised his hand to cup your cheek. he pulled you in closer using the gentle hold on your cheek and pecked the bridge of your nose.

once he lets go of you, you stepped back, bending down to pick the the bandage roll which you began to buy and keep ever since meeting him.

you stand again as you face him, not looking him in the eye after the sudden cold outburst while the confident and casual air around you had disappeared. and this caused dazai to heave out a sigh.

"what i did -- i did for you." he revealed only this much as if to just let you see the tip of the iceberg, to let you know of the peace lingering above the calmness.

you placed your hand on his thigh as you leaned up to gently pull on the bandage which covered one of his eyes, whispering, "why?"

dazai stopped as you tugged at the bandage and it fell down in your opened palm. he too wonders why is he even doing this?

you are of no use to the mafia.

you don't give him the same reactions as chuuya does.

yet you are still intresting.

is it the feeling of your soft palms as you cup his cheek with one hand while you softly rub the wet towel on his face with the other to clean it? could be.

dazai wrapped his legs around your waist to pull you closer, you felt your heart beating as he cupped both of your cheeks and pulled you to peck your forehead. "i just do."

you wanted to ask many things but refrain from doing so, choosing to enjoy the feeling of his hands as one of them remained cupping your jaw while the other rested near your ass, on your lower back, to keep you in place as you wrap a new bandage around his eye.

to be honest, dazai knew. he knew why he did what he did and does what he does, it's just that he doesn't see the need to tell you the answer which is being yelled by his heart and seeing how you relaxed again and lost some of your initial fear, dazai feels -- no, he knows, that you either know or have a good grasp of what most of his answer could've been anyway.

"you are weird." you decide to sigh out these words with a smile, moving your face back from his grasp as you pull down at his coat and he lets you, letting you take it off.

is the rush of happiness what icarus felt too? perhaps if icarus didn't dream too high, he would be lured into the deep forests as well.

dazai watched with curious eyes. you stepped out of the bathroom for a while, a matching set of grey sweatshirt and sweatpants. the sight makes dazai to raise his eyebrows, a silent order for you to explain.

"you need some colors in your life and wardrobe. you look so edgy wearing that." you point at his suit and dazai almost rolled his eyes, had the thought of you going out of your way to buy something for someone like him had not entered his mind and settled there.

from there on, the thought grew vines which traveled and gripped at his heart.

"did you buy this for me? you want to be my sugar mommy or something?" dazai smirked yet squealed as you stepped near him, grabbing a handful of his skin and pinching him on his thigh. you don't speak much, the words of the old lady repeating in your mind while you unbutton his shirt and scrub at his hands to get the blood off of him.

the way you look so quiet as you seemed to stare at nothing while cleaning the blood made dazai hesitate to break this silence. he looked at you and he felt his heart beat racing when he saw the hazy look in your eyes. behind you, the sky once again grew hazy and dazai glared at the window behind you. yet you didn't notice anything it seemed, too busy in unbuttoning dazai's shirt button by button.

the cat who sat outside at the windowsill snarled in return.

"you are my kitten." dazai began quietly and you looked up at him with puzzlement dancing all over your features. a confused smile takes over your lips and dazai leans near you, you feel your heartbeat racing as he leans his head till his lips hovered above your's. "you are mine and i'll protect you against everything."

dazai closed the distance between you and him, his hand came to hold your waist and pull you towards him. you closed your eyes as you let your feelings overtake you, wrapping your arms around the neck of the boy who still sat on the sink counter.

his eyes remained open, a blue light eliminated from his palm -- of the hand that was wrapped around your waist -- felt like the first drop of rain of despair for the cat whose fur raised and it glared at dazai.

"you don't need to know what i do and why i do it. just stay as you are now." dazai whispered as soon as he pulled back from the kiss, he hopped down from the counter and removed his unbuttoned shirt. he tossed it on your face, not paying heed to the way you groaned.

"stay as i am now? what's that supposed to mean cryptic bastard?" you ask as you slowly walked behind him, stopping as he sits in the bathtub and his feet nearly dangled off the small bathtub. dazai shooted a finger gun at you which made you scoff while you reached for the water faucet, he isn't going to answer, is he?

the cat blinked, like a stalker it's eyes remained even when dazai leaned up and grabbed your forearm to pull you on top of him. your squeals and his laughs were like poison to the cat. the same cat who affectionately rubbed itself against your leg in the morning is the same cat who now watched with great disgust.

icarus flew. if he didn't, he would've drowned.

the pied piper would've lured him in with masks of interests in his dreams. or perhaps kummatty would've made him think to never stop believing in his dreams, he would've have turned him into a bird and icarus would've flew away and never returned.

"stay as you are -- meaning stay as my little kitty cat. can you meow or purr for me?" dazai raised his eyebrows, it always brought him entertaining joy to see your reactions and even if they aren't as loud or amusing as chuuya's, the way you purse your lips and look away after replying with something snarky always stayed at the back of dazai's mind. it repeated whenever he smoked in the loneliness of the shipping container he calls his shelter.

you know better then to take this moment for granted. you look back at dazai and smile tiredly, resting your head against his shoulder as you wrap your arms around his waist and do not mind the flowing water soak your clothes and make you wet for you feel yourself nearly giggling at the way your legs are on either sides of dazai's waist and his hands wrapped around you. when you leaned your body on him, his arms around you tightened their hold.

he raised one of his hands to pat and comb through your hair while he smirked, tilting his head at the cat. said cat snarled at him again before it hopped down your windowsill and left.

the cat walked for a while before it jumped into a drain and immediately found itself sitting on the lap of the old woman who hummed. the old woman moved back and forth on her rocking chair, humming a tune which enchanted many and it was evident by the way children sat by her feet and mimicked her motions of rocking back and forth. their lips sealed tight by threads being sewed yet they tried to hum along with the old woman, causing blood to flow down their chins yet they didn't mind as theu stared at the old lady with unnaturally wide eyes.

the old lady stopped humming and immediately the children stabbed their fingers into their eyes, blood oozing out as they curled their fingers into their eyeballs.

"you are so so cute. my belladon--" you make dazai to stop speaking, making him go speechless when you splashed a bit of water onto him after having enough of his cheesy flirting though it did get your heart to beat faster but the young age you are is one where intimate feelings such as this makes you cower and feel like hiding behind the exterior of pretend coolness. it's a defense mechanism of sorts but dazai has always broken through every defense so what is yours infront of him?

your smug grin disappeared as you saw him cough without intending to stop soon. you leaned closer to his face as you tried to grasp at the curves of his jaws so you would be able to have a better view of his face and check for any damage you may have caused yet the moment your fingers grasp his jaw, dazai grabbed both of your wrists as he leaned forwards to kiss you again. and you let him. his arms came to wrap around you again.

and once again you missed the blue glow they emitted as all you could focus on was the gentle way dazai's hands inched closer to you till one of them rested at your nape and the other at your hip while he left little pecks and kisses on your lips, not pulling or letting you pull back once.

the pied piper or kummatty may just be figures associated with children and to scare them by exaggerating (though is it a exaggeration?) abduction but the old lady you met -- the one who is currently smiling cruelly as she watches children pull out their eyeballs and see the optic nerve -- is one who will try to lure you in and dazai won't let it.

it isn't related to the mafia, the child abducting old lady isn't a concern of port mafia and neither is she a danger to dazai's life. his nullifying ability will act if she ever tries to activate her ability on him which works by the contact of her or her cats with the victim.

though you do not need to know of this or even worry as dazai will make sure you don't end up in the old lady's grasp and don't suffer the same fate as many of her previous victims. he always was a bit more protective and possessive when it came to you anyway.

after all, he is a good boy --- an angel.

[tavolgisvist]

The boat called Yoko and The boat called Paul

accidental - more or less - coincidences

1 To look in the eye

You dissolve into each other. But that’s what we did, round about that time, that’s what we did a lot. And it was amazing. You’re looking into each other’s eyes and you would want to look away, but you wouldn’t, and you could see yourself in the other person. It was a very freaky experience and I was totally blown away…

(Paul McCartney, Many Years From Now by Barry Miles, 1997)

“This is sort of what went on the ’60s a bit. You thought, Well if I’m going to go with this person for the rest of my life, like John and Yoko or me and Linda, I really ought to look them in the eye all the time. And John and Yoko really did spend a lot of time (stares manically). And it got fairly mad, they’d sit there looking at each other, going It’s gonna be all right, it’s gonna be all right. After a couple of hours of that you get fairly worn out.”

(Paul McCartney, interview with Paul Du Noyer, 1989)

2 David Bailey photo session January 1965

and

Susan Wood photo session 26 November 1968

3 White walls

'Paul had a nice idea about opening up white houses, where we would sell white china, and things like that, everything white, because you can never get anything white, you know, which was pretty groovy…'

( John Lennon , December 1970, Jann Wenner interview for Rolling Stone magazine)

It's difficult starting write from scratch with Yoko there. 'Cause I start writing songs about white walls. Just 'cause, you know, just 'cause I think she…I think John and Yoko would like that, you know. And they wouldn't.

(Paul McCartney, Get Back sessions)

.

4 Tittenhurst

"I knew the house, because John and I had been to look at it with the other Beatles couples a year ot two earlier. [...] For a crazy moment we's considered buying it and all move in together, in a kind of Beatles commune. How strange that now it was John and Yoko's home."

(Synthia Lennon, John, 1988)

5 Chalk and cheese / Cows and cheese

‘When I caught sight of him, when John brought him home for the first time, I thought “Oh-ho, look what the cat’s dragged in,”’ Mimi later recalled. ‘He seemed so much younger than John–and John was always picking up waifs and strays. I thought “Here we go again, John Lennon… another Shotton.”’ Even Paul’s immaculate manners could not thaw her. ‘Oh, yes, he was well-mannered–too well-mannered. He was what we call in Liverpool “talking posh” and I thought he was taking the mickey out of me. I thought “He’s a snake-charmer all right,” John’s little friend, Mr Charming. I wasn’t falling for it. After he’d gone, I said to John, “What are you doing with him? He’s younger than you… and he’s from Speke!”’ After that, when Paul appeared, she would always tell John sarcastically that his ‘little friend’ was here. ‘I used to tease John by saying “chalk and cheese”, meaning how different they were,’ she remembered, ‘and John would start hurling himself around the room like a wild dervish shouting “Chalkandcheese! Chalkandcheese!” with this stupid grin on his face.’”

(Paul McCartney: The Life by Philip Norman, 2016)

Q: "Why did you collaborate with Yoko on this LP?" JOHN: "It's like a play and we're acting in it. It's John and Yoko - you can take it or leave it. Otherwise (laughing) it's cows and cheese, my dear! Being with Yoko makes me whole. I don't want to sing if she's not there. We're like spitiual advisors. When I first got out of the Beatles, I thought, 'Oh great. I don't have to listen to Paul and Ringo and George.' But it's boring yodeling by yourself in a studio. I don't need all that space anymore."

(John Lennon, The September 29th 1980 issue of Newsweek)

6 Names

.

.

7 Two lovers on the beach

PAUL: ...We just write the songs first, and then uh, just shove ‘em in anywhere, as George said. Especially in the uh, sunset scene at the very end of the picture, where the two lovers – that’s George and Ringo – are coming towards each other on the beach… [general laughter] And they just finally meet – well, actually they don’t quite meet, they just run past each other, and both dive into the sand and as they do... JOHN: [in background] They both light a cigarette. PAUL: [laughs] Yeah, that’s it. The sun goes down

(May-June, 1965, Twickenham Film Studios, interview with Elliot Mintz)

gifs by thebeatlesordie

8 Paris

1961

John and I went hitchhiking. George and I did it a couple of times too. It was a way to get a holiday. Maybe our parents booked holidays, but we wouldn’t have known how to. So we would head out, just the two of us, with our guitars. John was older, but I was in on the decision about where we might go. He’d got a hundred pounds from his uncle, who was a dentist in Edinburgh, for his twenty-first birthday, and we decided we’d hitchhike to Spain by way of Paris.

(Paul McCartney, The Lyrics: 1956 to the Present , 2021)

John: "Paris has always been the object of English romanticism, hasn't it? I fell for Paris first of all, even before Hamburg. I remember spending my 21st birthday there with Paul in 1961 . . ." <…> Aunt Mimi told the Liverpool Echo that she remembered the time that John slipped off to Paris to "sell his paintings" and that some unsuspecting Frenchman has a Lennon original on his wall.

(The Beatles Diary. Volume1.The Beatles Years by Barry Miles, 2001)

Gustafson [Johnny Gustafson of the Big Tree] happened to bump into them the day they left, Saturday, September 30. “They both had bowler hats on, with the usual leather jackets and jeans. They said they were off to Paris, so I walked down to Lime Street station and watched them go. They were an incredible pair: always great fun, irreverent and so close.

(Tune In: The Beatles: All These Years by Mark Lewisohn, 2013)

I remember, we tried to hitchhike to Spain once, but we only got as far as Paris. We liked it so much, we stayed there, just the two of us. We were in this little hotel in Paris; it was so cheap it had fleas. My mum was a nurse, we were very hygienic, then you end up there – bloody hell! Those things bring you together.

(Paul McCartney, January 2021, UNCUT)

In October 1961 John turned 21. That was the big birthday then. Mater came down from Scotland to celebrate this special day with the family at Mendips. I remember her fussing over John, ruffling his hair and saying how wonderful he was. Her present was a gift of £100, which she told John was ‘from Mummy’. I had the same myself, on my 21st, and used it for a deposit on a house. John spent his on a trip to Paris with Paul. They meant to hitch-hike to Spain, but only got as far as Paris. They wore leather jackets and bowler hats to hitch rides, as a gimmick, to show people they weren’t ruffians. It worked. They got rides and had a wild, drunken time for ten days.

 (Imagine This: Growing Up with My Brother John Lennon by Julia Baird, 2007)

As Jürgen says, “It sounds conceited but it’s the truth: they really wanted to look like me.” At their request, he took them to the weekend flea market at Porte de Clignancourt, at the northern end of Métro Line 4. Searching through the racks, John bought a green corduroy jacket like Jürgen’s, Paul found an eye-catching patterned polo-neck, and they looked for—though didn’t find—the Vollmer style of shoes, “like half-boots.” Their most daring purchase was two pairs of flared trousers, similar though different to the bell-bottoms worn by sailors—but the first time John and Paul wore them was also the last. As John would explain, “They were flapping around, and we felt like fools in anything that wasn’t skintight, so we sewed them up by hand that very night’—a comment that conjures up the quaint image of Lennon and McCartney working away with needle and thread under a murky light in a Montmartre hotel room. But alteration was essential: they knew precisely how the trousers, if left unchanged, would be received back home. What was OK in Paris would not be OK in Liverpool; the Beatles’ audience was mixed male and female and they didn’t want to alienate either by, in John’s words, coming across queer.’

(Tune In by Mark Lewisohn, 2013)

PAUL: We went to Paris – we were supposed to be in Spain, but we couldn’t get past Paris, we enjoyed that so much – on the strength of his hundred quid [given to him] when he was twenty-one. We went hitchhiking. We kind of said, “Well, look, I mean, we can get to Spain on this,” you know, a hundred quid, and he was kind of um… I mean, I don’t think he was funding me as much as he was spending. JULIA: Yeah, yeah. PAUL: And I’d be there for the banana milkshake. [Julia and Paul laugh] You know, I’d just happen to be there while he was spending. I think I kind of paid my own way. But we hitched, we hitched out. And we used – we realised that in – hitching, in those days, was much safer, obviously, than it is to hitchhike now – and we realised that we had to have a bit of a gimmick. So we both had these leather jackets and we had bowlers, we got bowler hats. We thought that’ll take the edge of the kind of hoodie look, you know, that sort of ruffian look, in these bowlers. And you kind of go, “Hey!” and people would stop, you know, because this is just a couple of daft guys in bowler hats, they don’t look like a threat. So we hitched down to Hoek van Holland or somewhere, Harwich, Hoek van Holland or somewhere like that, got over to Paris anyway. Got a bit drunk on the French beer, which was great, ‘cause we’d been drinking beer, the British stuff, and we felt we could handle that, but it was this foreign stuff, it really went to our heads. So we had a quite fun crossing there… It was great, it was so adventurous. I’d never done anything like that, I know I’d never been out of Liverpool. I’d been to Pwllheli, Skegness, and Leamington Spa. That had been the whole of my travels, you know. So it was very exciting to get off on your own with a mate like John.

(Paul McCartney interview with Julia Baird, 1987)

We knew what it was like to go on the cross-channel ferry; we knew what it was like to try and hang out in Paris. We would walk for miles around the city, sit in bars near Rue des Anglais, visit Montmartre and the Folies Bergère. We felt like we were fully paid-up existentialists and could write a novel from what we learnt in a week there, so we never did make it to Spain. We’d been together so much that if you had a question, we would both pretty much come up with the same answer.

(Paul McCartney, The Lyrics: 1956 to the Present , 2021)

1969

'Between us,' Yoko says, 'we were very psychic. We knew all the time what the other was thinking, what was going to be said by the other, our responses, everything. It was sometimes unnerving.'

(Lennon: The Definitive Biography by Ray Coleman, 1993)

John and Yoko, still in Paris, had tried to get married on the cross-channel ferry but were refused permission to board The Dragon at Southampton because of “inconsistencies in their passports”. Peter Brown at Apple found that they could get married on the British-governed island of Gibraltar. <…> John: “We chose Gibraltar because it is quiet, British and friendly. We tried everywhere else rst. I set out to get married on the car ferry and we would have arrived in France married, but they wouldn’t do it. We were no more successful with cruise ships. We tried embassies, but three weeks’ residence in Germany or two weeks’ in France were required.

(The Beatles Diary. Volume1.The Beatles Years by Barry Miles, 2001)

"On March 19, 1969, I saw John Lennon again in Paris, late in the morning. He had arrived at the Plaza Athénée during the night accompanied by his new girlfriend, Yoko Ono. They left with me in a taxi to visit the Puces. Once on rue des Rosiers in Saint-Ouen, John asked me to show them this place that he found "magical". That was the word he used."

(Henry Pessar)

John and Yoko perusing the stalls at the flea market, Porte de Clignancourt, in particular purchasing jeans from an old lady who appears oblivious to the stature of the person she is serving (photo by Henry Pessar)

Their [John and Yoko] wedding was unconventional but romantic. Based in Paris for a couple of weeks in March 1969, they decided to charter a plane and marry in Gibraltar. <….> 'We are two love birds,' he said. 'Intellectually we didn't believe in getting married. But one doesn't love someone just intellectually. For two people, marriage still has the edge over just living together.' <…> They had their honeymoon, he explained, before the wedding. 'Just eating, shopping and looking round Paris. In love in Paris in the spring was beautiful. We're both tremendous romantics!' <…> Back in Paris after only a seventy-minute stay in Gibraltar, John and Yoko went to the Plaza Athenee Hotel. <…> John said that from then on they would do everything together, as artists and as husband and wife.

(Lennon: The Definitive Biography by Ray Coleman, 1993)

9 Number 9

He believed the sign of a marriage 'written in the stars' was that the names of John Ono Lennon and Yoko Ono Lennon together featured the letter 'o' nine times.

(Lennon: The Definitive Biography by Ray Coleman, 1993)

…And nine was a hugely significant numeral to the Lennons, a magic integer that seemed to mysteriously recur throughout John’s life. Yoko would rattle off the number’s many repeated appearances: John was born on the ninth of October. She was born on the eighteenth of February (one plus eight). The first home he lived in—his grandfather’s house—was at 9 Newcastle Road. Paul McCartney’s last name has nine letters…

(We All Shine On: John, Yoko, and Me by Elliot Mintz, 2024)

10 Two Virgins and Why Don't We Do It In The Road?

Two Virgins

recorded 3-4 (or 19–20) May 1968, released 29 Nov(UK), 11 Nov 1968 (US)

August 31 Private Eye announced that John and Yoko’s forthcoming album would have a full-frontal nude cover. September 15 Around this date, John and Yoko photographed themselves in the nude, from the front and rear, intending to use the shots as cover artwork for their rst collaborative album. November 11 John: “Originally, I was going to record Yoko, and I thought the best picture of her for an album would be naked. So after that, when we got together, it just seemed natural for us both to be naked. Of course, I’ve never seen my prick out on an album before.”

(The Beatles Diary. Volume1.The Beatles Years by Barry Miles, 2001)

Autumn 1968:

As the meeting was drawing to a weary close, John, not this day with Yoko, who hadn’t seemed particularly connected with what was going on, said he wanted to play us a tape he and Yoko had made. He got up and put the cassette into the tape machine and stood beside it as we listened. The soft murmuring voices did not at first signal their purpose. It was a man and a woman but hard to hear, the microphone having been at a distance. I wondered if the lack of clarity was the point. Were we even meant to understand what was going on, was it a kind of artwork where we would not be able to put the voices into a context, and was context important? I felt perhaps this was something John and Yoko were examining. But then, after a few minutes, it became clear. John and Yoko were making love, with endearments, giggles, heavy breathing, both real and satirical, and the occasional more direct sounds of pleasure reaching for climax, all recorded by the faraway microphone. But there was something innocent about it too, as though they were engaged in a sweet serious game. John clicked the off button and turned again to look toward the table, his eyebrows quizzical above his round glasses, seemingly genuinely curious about what reaction his little tape would elicit. However often they’d shared small rooms in Hamburg, whatever they knew of each other’s love and sex lives, this tape seemed to have stopped the other three cold. Perhaps it touched a reserve of residual Northern reticence. After a palpable silence, Paul said, “Well, that’s an interesting one.” The others muttered something and the meeting was over.

(Michael Lindsay-Hogg (filmmaker), Luck and Circumstance: A Coming of Age in Hollywood, New York, and Points Beyond, 2011)

Inevitably, many people bought Two Virgins for the cover alone: for some of the Beatles’ younger fans, it was to be their first ever glimpse of grown-ups in the nude.

(Craig Brown, 150 Glimpses of the Beatles, 2020)

Paul: So what’s the point behind Two Virgins? <…> Paul: Is there any need to do this in public, Mr. Lennon?

(Get Back sessions, January 14th, 1969)

Why Don't We Do It In The Road?

recorded 9, 10 October 1968; released 22 Nov (UK), 25 Nov 1968 (US)

designing the White Album poster during Sept-Oct 1968

I was up on the flat roof [in Rishikesh] meditating and I’d seen a troupe of monkeys walking along in the jungle and a male just hopped on to the back of this female and gave her one, as they say in the vernacular. Within two or three seconds he hopped off again, and looked around as if to say, ‘It wasn’t me,’ and she looked around as if there had been some mild disturbance but thought, Huh, I must have imagined it, and she wandered off. And I thought, bloody hell, that puts it all into a cocked hat, that’s how simple the act of procreation is, this bloody monkey just hopping on and hopping off. There is an urge, they do it, and it’s done with. And it’s that simple. We have horrendous problems with it, and yet animals don’t. So that was basically it. Why Don’t We Do It In The Road? could have applied to either fucking or shitting, to put it roughly. Why don’t we do either of them in the road? Well, the answer is we’re civilised and we don’t. But the song was just to pose that question. Why Don’t We Do It In The Road? was a primitive statement to do with sex or to do with freedom really. I like it, it’d just so outrageous that I like it.

(Paul McCartney, Many Years From Now by Barry Miles, 1997)

PLAYBOY: “Why Don’t We Do It in the Road?” LENNON: That’s Paul. He even recorded it by himself in another room. That’s how it was getting in those days. We came in and he’d made the whole record. Him drumming. Him playing the piano. Him singing. But he couldn’t—he couldn’t—maybe he couldn’t make the break from the Beatles. I don’t know what it was, you know. I enjoyed the track. Still, I can’t speak for George, but I was always hurt when Paul would knock something off without involving us. But that’s just the way it was then.

(John Lennon, 1980, All We Are Saying by David Sheff, 2020)

The song’s (very) slightly risqué lyric, all two lines of it, heightened the vague air of controversy surrounding the album. McCartney was already in trouble with the press for allowing a minuscule nude picture of himself to be included on the set’s free poster.

(The Beatles Diary. Volume1.The Beatles Years by Barry Miles, 2001)

“All this work, all this talent — and what [the press] fixate on is one small picture.”

(Derek Taylor)

To be continued, I suppose

[muffinsin]

Yeah so, my friend and I got to play some far cry 5 again and it kicked me right back into the far cry/faith phase.

Alas, have some HCs AND snippets on Faith x a female, buff, dominant and rather twisted deputy that may or may not be inspired by my dark donna from my story "smoke and mirrors" XP @viavrse is totally to blame because since she made a comparision between Faith and S&M Daniela I have not been able to stop thinking about it XP

Let's get into it! ;)

Masterlists (mainly RE8, Dimitrescu themed)

If one was to ask someone to describe the relationship between Faith Seed, siren of the henbane river, and the deputy, one of the faces of the rebellion against PEG, “unique”, and “complicated” would likely be the most fitting words

Those, and more

Passionate

Dangerous

Strong within, mysterious to others

Perhaps a little twisted

The Deputy, easily enough said, hardly follows a moral compass. While coming to Montana hoping to gain access to higher ranks and officials by stopping Joseph Seed, the moment that plan fell apart she set her eyes on something else

Someone else

A woman, seen in the cathedral during the man’s supposed arrest. Even as she snapped the handcuffs against his wrist, her eyes grazed the beautiful form of his little “sister”

Faith Seed

Manipulative. A liar. A siren. Dangerous. The deputy heard it all within days of asking around about the woman

It only made her more curious than ever

And after weeks of stalking and playing a game of chase, a game of cat and mouse, with the auburn haired woman, she was finally hers

And while their relationship is an odd one for sure- with the deputy secretly being within Peggie ranks even while portraying the resistance, it’s a strong bond, forged through love and care, possessiveness, obsession and loyalty

Ah, and how very obsessed she is with her angel

She- despite knowing fully well what Faith is capable of- can’t help but consider her as a delicate little thing, something too soft and broken in for this world, a manipulator manipulated and shaped by others, now soft and weak, much like her white flowers. The deputy is convinced, only she is strong enough to protect her

She can’t help it, not when Faith is adorably short and delicate compared to her, her green eyes soft, her flesh even more so, her small hands gentle compared to the deputy’s callused fingers and strong hands

As such, she dislikes letting Faith stray too far from her side. If she could, she’d keep her chained to her hip, safe where no one could touch her, or hide her away where no one could see her. With her commanding the young, seemingly authoritative woman to stay in her bunker, she supposes she does just that

When possible, her hands are always on Faith

In fact, she despises when someone touches what is hers, including Faith

Her blood boils everytime she watches her give her blessings, for even the brief moment of a new recruit touching her girlfriend’s hands is enough to make her grit her teeth in displeasure

She likes to grip her waist the best, her fingers strong and taking up most of the space there. She loves holding her tight enough to leave bruises, though tends to them each night with kisses and creams, ensuring she leaves no everlasting damage on her precious angel

Of course, there are other ways she loves to touch her, ways less appropriate when it isn’t just the two of them, such as when her fingers curl around her sweet throat, her other hand between soft, fleshy thighs ripping away at gentle underwear

She loves hearing Faith call her “deputy” in her soft, sweet voice, the title dripping with honey. It makes her blood run hot

And while she allows her to call her most things, from her name to “deputy”, to “love” snd more, what really gets her is hearing Faith’s cute, breathless gasps and pleas, her little moans and adorably futile attempts at calling her name when she is being ruined by her deputy, when her pussy squelches around her fingers, when her ass tightens in anticipation of being used by her lover

Yes, she lets Faith call her anything- Deputy, my love- but she lives for when Faith whimpers please

She’s insatiable as it comes to her. No matter how often she has her, she can never have her often enough. For this reason it’s quite common for her to overstimulate the cute thing, her arm easily holding her own while she feasts between her legs, mouth watering, tongue dragging into and against her flowery pussy until she squeals and cries out for her, moaning and begging so sweetly for but a break

What might be a little odd to think about is other ways the deputy shows her obsession over her little lamb, as she likes to call her besides angel, Faith, Rachel, and flower

For example, she loves collecting her things obsessively. The more personal, the better, going from simple things like fallen petals from her flower crown and ribbons to her panties, pocketed every single time after she takes her lover and practically tears them from her soft core

She just loves Faith’s sweet, flowery scent on everything

At times, the deputy finds herself dreaming about taking Faith away. Not only from Eden’s Gate, but from everyone and everything. It’s a dark, twisted thought she rarely indulges in by thinking about it, but it is there nonetheless

Thoughts of taking her beautiful girlfriend with her, locking her away in some hidden place where only she can have her

Her possessiveness knows hardly any bounds, though she knows when to bide her time

So, instead, she sticks to other things to fuel her obsession and possessiveness

Marking, for example

She loves not only leaving marks on Faith’s fair skin, but specifically so in areas she knows only she will ever see

Bite marks on her thighs and ass, handprints on her ass cheeks and fingerprints on her hips. All unnoticeable to others, those who do not grant to see the beauty like this

And even so, it would hardly matter, for even her jealousy seems to know little to no bounds

No one is allowed to do so much as look at Faith- at what is hers- for too long- if they do, the deputy makes sure they regret it

Whenever Faith gets too close to someone, the deputy forces her onto her lap and murmurs, low and into her ear; “Do I need to remind you who takes care of you, my angel?”

But, her jealousy comes not only from Faith’s interactions with new recruits

As such, the herald has come to realize she ought not to talk about her “brothers”, Joseph and John in particular

She’s almost not allowed to talk about them in any way that suggests they matter to her. No one matters aside from me, little lamb, as the deputy likes to remind her with a series of rough kisses to her soft lips

And while the deputy knows what role Faith plays, how she converts soon to be peggies, her blood boils whenever she catches a cultist looking at Faith with too much love and admiration

Being on both sides of this war, she is easily capable of making those looking at her girlfriend for too long disappear in no time

When someone of low status dares touch her, it isn’t uncommon for the deputy to execute them on the spot, easily spreading the word that Faith herself is a murderer, a literal siren causing death to all that get too close

She’s rough when she touches Faith, is only gently at times, but she’s even rougher with all others

And while she is very rough- naturally so, given her stature and fighter-like personality, she ensures Faith never has to open a door or lift a finger when she’s around

She loves doing everything for her

But, perhaps the most, she loves pinning her down and feeling the contrast of her delicate, smaller body against her own, almost massive frame, shaped by fighting and training hard

She loves to drag her fingers across Faith’s skin, loves to pull little whimpers and moans from her whenever she can

She loves feeling how weak she is, physically, compared to her

This only feeds into her protectiveness of the woman, as well as her knowledge of Faith’s past, leaving her to become extra possessive and protective over her

If someone ever took her or she went missing, the deputy would burn down all of the Henbane just to bring her back

She’ll break the whole damn world if it means keeping Faith safe

If Faith herself ever but considered leaving, the deputy would easily drags that idea from her. She’s hers

And as such, she makes her angel say that she belongs to her, over and over again, until it becomes second nature.

Despite her love for her, the deputy has zero patience when it comes to defying her- she doesn’t ask Faith to obey, she makes her

Not unlike the cultists, she worships Faith like something holy, but only she owns her like something sinful

Ah, and she loves exploring this sin

She loves to strip her down, loves to make her moan and whimper, groan and squeal. She loves to explore Faith’s tight body and taste every little inch of her

Her girlfriend is the only thing in this world that can make the deputy soft- even if that softness is twisted and possessive

On the complete counter side to this, the deputy despises the other Seed family members

She especially despises Joseph, for manipulating and hurting Faith, for bringing her down and raising her up when he feels like it. She hates his gaze on her, she hates the fact Faith is to wear only the dress he gave her, a dress she knows makes him view her precious girlfriend as his wife, nonetheless

If she could, she would wring his neck, and it’s the main reason she still partly plays for the resistance’s side

Then, there is John. Originally, she only thought him annoying, cocky, bothersome, irrelevant

But upon hearing his hushed, worried words to Joseph one night, his sinful confession of how he views his “little sister”, made her snap towards hating him

She knows, he would not act on it, knows he would never make a move on a woman meant to portray his younger sister. But she also knows he feels desire towards her, as he likely has to many other women made to become Faiths over the years

It doesn’t make her hate him any less

And then, Jacob

She respects Jacob

But she does not like him. Not when, even as he has never shown anything but gentleness towards Faith, the deputy knows he could snap her delicate neck like a twig beneath his fingers

She’s only looking out for her, really, she regularly convinces herself

On a softer note again, the deputy loves brushing Faith’s hair whenever she can, braiding it with flowers, calling her my pretty little lamb

When with her, the deputy likes to stay as close as possible and always have her hand on Faith. At times, when time grants it, she likes listening to her girlfriend hum and sing to herself as she braids flowers into a crown, her eyes lifting to watch her occasionally as she sketches

In no time, the deputy has an entire journal filled with sketches of Faith- some soft, some filthy, all obsessed and only for her to see

When Faith falls asleep, the deputy stays awake, watching her, guarding her, even knowing her girlfriend is safe inside the bunker

She loves the size difference between them, and especially when she pushes her up against a wall, she adores how tiny Faith looks against her, in her arms, against her chest, looking up at her with her stunning, green eyes

Faith’s hands are so small compared to hers, and the Deputy is obsessed with the contrast when she holds them

When she decides being a little bolder and brings a large strap matching her physique- and more, really-, she loves seeing her fingers struggle to wrap around it before Faith is to drag her tongue against it, blushing and squirming in need and embarrassment, fully away of how sinful she is being

For this especially, and in general, she constantly calls Faith her good girl. Ah, and what beautiful reactions it drags from her cute girlfriend

It drives her crazy seeing Faith’s lips tremble when she teases her, loves the way she melts under her touch

She makes Faith beg for things—even simple things, just to hear that breathy, sweet voice pleading for her

But her favourite thing to make her girlfriend beg for is to cum, when her sweet, innocent-looking girlfriend wears her sin on her sleeve, when her eyes roll back and legs tremble, when she begs her deputy to let her cum already

She likes testing Faith’s limits, pushing her just to see how much she can take

Whenever she is around her, the the deputy keeps Faith so close that she barely gets a moment alone- she’s always within reach, always hers. And while this occasionally leads to Faith crying bitterly- missing her so dearly- when the deputy has to move towards the mountains or valley, the deputy can’t stop hhelp self or alter this behaviour

Twisted as it is, she knows she deep down loves that her girlfriend misses her this much

And when she returns, she loves Faith being clinger than normal, her hands on her, her lips on her even as she blushes, no complaint dragged from her at all when the deputy immediately moves in and takes what she wants from her, only ever pleas to please, continue

But her angel is never left wanting for anything- she provides everything for her, so she never needs anyone else

She tells Faith every day that she’s the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen, and while her rough and strong appearance and character might not suggest it, she loves to show her girlfriend that she loves her

She loves bringing her flowers and gifts, especially when forced to move towards another region

She loves telling Faith how beautiful she is, and she loves fucking her until Faith understands it, too, rather than just hears it, knowing she struggles with knowing that sometimes due to her past

She grips Faith’s chin and makes her look into her eyes when she speaks, ensuring her little lamb listens. When talking to one of Faith’s hallucinations from the flowers, she always knows exactly what distance to keep to have her around without making the illusion disappear

The deputy has no need for the bliss—her obsession with Faith is real, raw, all-consuming- but she enters the blissed world often to see Faith. She doesn’t mind it, though makes a point of teaching Faith not to pull her in when she feels like it, well aware that her body is left vulnerable when she isn’t careful. When she feels like a brat, Faith does so anyway, well aware of the consequences following when her lovely deputy returns to her bunker

The deputy makes her fall apart with nothing but her voice, whispering dark promises against her ear that sometimes have her gasp, as though a catholic school girl slowly corrupted

The deputy loves that fantasy in particular

She wants Faith completely dependent on her- so much so that she wouldn’t know what to do without her, all to ensure she can and will never want to leave her

She’ll often pull Faith into her arms and murmur; “You were made for me, weren’t you?”

She makes sure Faith always smells like her, even with her carrying the scent of bliss and flowers with her- either from her scent or from the marks she leaves behind

This is generally quite easy, as she always drapes her leather jacket over Faith’s shoulders, marking her as claimed, and warming her when she gets cold

She could snarl at that thought sometimes, knowing: if Joseph allowed her to wear anything but her panties and white dress, Faith would not be as cold all the time

She lifts Faith up effortlessly, carrying her whenever she wants, and she loves the way Faith gasps when she grabs her too roughly

Faith is so soft, so delicate, and the Deputy lives to leave her breathless

She loves how small Faith looks in her arms, how easy she is to manhandle by her, and only her. She would never stand for anyone else manhandling Faith

She loves holding her wrists above her head, loving how easily she overpowers her. Faith never fights back, never tries to struggle, but the deputy secretly loves knowing that even if she did, she could not physically overpower her no matter how hard she tries

Ah, the deputy is practically obsessed with how she can pin her girlfriends’s wrists above her hand with but a single one of hers and make her squirm

She makes Faith say that she belongs to her before she lets her go, and makes her say she will be her good girl every single time before leaving to go to some of the other areas of the county

Faith is her good girl, her little lamb and angel, her most precious thing

She doesn’t share. Ever

She makes her feel how much she craves her, over and over

She whispers dark promises into Faith’s ear- promises of love, devotion, possession, promises of what she will do to her, especially when she’s been a brat

But matter how rough the Deputy is with Faith, she never hurts her- she knows exactly how much pressure to use on her, after all. She can make her gasp, whimper, beg, but she never truly hurts her little lamb, viewing her as far too sensitive and delicate and far too easy to break

After a long day, she usually strokes Faith’s auburn hair to calm herself, her calloused hands tender

Faith is the only one who sees this side of her, and she never tells a single soul about it. She too loves bringing a tender side from the deputy otherwise known as dangerous, rough, and even cruel

She’ll lift Faith’s face by the chin, thumb brushing over her lips, whispering sweet promises

When Faith is exhausted, her deputy forces her to rest, often holds her in her arms and refuses to let her move until she’s slept, kisses her face and cradles her lovingly

Upon falling asleep, the deputy always carries her to bed

Faith could command an army of cultists, but is still carried bridal-style

If Faith is ever upset, the Deputy’s first instinct is to pull her onto her lap, whispering dark but comforting promises against her ear. She loves that they comfort her, the herald just broken enough to thrive on the dark love given to her

And no matter how much control the Deputy takes, she always makes sure Faith feels adored, ensuring that; “You’re my good girl. My perfect, precious thing. You know that, don’t you, Rachel?”

Ah, and how her good girl swoons when she is called Rachel

She knows, Joseph must not know, no one can know there is a glimpse of Rachel left in her. Ah..but she loves it when her deputy calls her by her real name

The deputy can go from protective to ravenous in an instant, all it takes is one of Faith’s soft, breathy giggles. Her voice alone is enough to make her shudder, but she loved hearing Faith whimper for her, whether from pleasure or desperation, it’s such a beautiful sound to her

She loves dragging these sounds from her whenever she can. Often, she enters the bliss with the single purpose of toying with her girlfriend, at other times using her as an eager stress reliever

She isn’t just rough- she’s starving for Faith, as if she’ll never have enough, no matter how many times she takes her. She has high stamina, which allows her to take her over, and over, and over again until she has her weak and breathy, dripping and drooling

She loves pushing Faith to the point where she’s breathless, wide-eyed, and overwhelmed- but she just rarely stops until she is a shaking mess in her arms

When she plays with her, she’s rough. She doesn’t just own Faith, but she makes sure her angel knows she’s owned by her

Faith’s little gasps when the Deputy grips her throat drive her wild, feral almost, especially when she knows Faith trusts her completely. She never struggles against her, and the deputy in turn never even considers gripping her throat too tight

She whispers the filthiest, possessive things into Faith’s ear while holding her close by her throat, just to watch her blush

"You're playing a dangerous game, angel", the deputy scolds, her arms crossed, drawing attention to the shirt's short sleeves straining against the muscles beneath. She doesn't miss the way Faith's green eyes flicker to them, before moving back to her eyes.

Faith...likes to play games, sometimes.

And the deputy knwos that. Lord, she knwos it down to her bones.

Faith has a habit of dancing right at the edge of her patience- brushing too close, letting her fingers linger, her voice all honeyed innocence. She would bat her lashes, tilt her head, let her soft, sweet mouth curl just right, like she didn’t know exactly what she was doing. She'd seduce her effortlessly.

And it never fails to drive the woman insane.

Right now, Faith is perched on the wooden table in her bunker, legs crossed like she is royalty, auburn hair cascading over her shoulder, lips pink and soft, teasing her with every wicked little smile.

"You really should be more careful", Faith coos, voice silky, a whisper of laughter hidden beneath it. "You might end up falling for me", she seems to warn, but her smile indicates that this is just what she wants.

She always gets like this, seductive, but bratty, every single time without fail when the deputy lets her off the leash, allows her to play around and play her role as the Herald of the Henbane River and lure others into the bliss.

To think her girlfriend would allow such behaviour...or perhaps Faith is just in dire need of being put in her place again. Either way, the deputy is eager to help her out, to teach.

She stalks toward her, and it feels as though her blood is on fire, her core throbs, her entire being yearns for her.

Her patience is gone.

"I think it’s already too late for that, angel", she murmurs, a dark smile grazing her choppy, bitten lips. When she comes to stand in front of her, Faith doesn’t flinch. She never does, with her. And even when the stronger woman plants her hands on either side of her, caging her in, forcing her small body to stay right where she wants her, she only giggles.

Sweet. Innocent.

Except she isn’t.

The deputy, unlike many others, knows better. She sees the way her lips part slightly, how her breath hitches, how her delicate fingers curl against the table she's sat on, how her eyes keep on moving to her muscles, to her throat, to her collarbone and chest, hidden partly by her thick jacket. She watches as Faith's eyes trail lower, finding the knives and weapons strapped to her lover's hip and thighs. She looks back up again, hoping her staring was somewhat subtle. Her lover indulges her and doesn't comment on it.

"You keep running that little mouth of yours", she instead murmurs, her voice low, rough, thick with something dangerous. She leans in, her mouth right against Faith’s ear, letting her hot breath ghost over her skin.

"What are you trying to do, huh, angel?"

Faith tilts her head just slightly, just enough to bare her throat as her eyes slip shut. Perhaps, to submit, Perhaps, to tease even more.

The deputy snaps.

Her fingers wrap around the younger woman's delicate neck, not squeezing, this time, merely holding, pressing just enough to remind her how much stronger she is. How easily she could break her, even as both of them know she would never do such a thing.

Faith gasps, a soft, trembling sound, her pulse fluttering beneath her fingertips. She doesn't struggle, doesn't even raise her hands to the one wrapped around her throat. Instead, her stunning green eyes search for the ones of her lover, her breath coming faster, her soft lips parting slightly. Still, as always, she doesn't pull away.

She never pulls away.

Instead, she whispers, soft, breathless, wanting;

"Then teach me, deputy"

And the woman feels as though loses control as the sound of her soft and breathy voice. Her grip tightens, her free hand grabbing Faith's hip, thinly covered by the white dress she is always made to wear. She yanks her forward harshly, until her legs spread around her waist, forcing her to feel what she does to her.

On some days, she likes to torment her cute girlfriend, bring a strap worthy of her stature, ruin her cute holes and make her blush and whimper at the realization of just how sinful she is as she is ruined. Faith always promises, she will pray after, will condone, will be good and pure again after. The strap, and the lingering pain of the stretch it causes, make this difficult.

Today, while it isnt such a day, Faith still feels the harsh fabric of her jeans against her thighs and panties, the dress doing a poor job of seperating her. It feels as though only her panties seperate her from her lover, thin and soft as they are dragged against the deputy's front.

Faith gasps, her delicate fingers clutching at the Deputy’s arms, nails digging in just slightly, her breath hot, uneven. Where she sometimes feels the bulge of the strap she now feels only the material of her lover's jeans, warm, and jumps slightly when she attempts to unwrap her legs from around her waist and it causes her to graze across one of the knives strapped to the woman's thigh. Immediately, she wraps her legs around her again, whimpering as she feels the sting of the cut on her fair skin.

The deputy leans in, her mouth hovering just over Faith’s, her grip unrelenting. She isn't oblivious to what her little brat has done, and its consequences, but grants her the small mercy of not scolding her for it. The cut by her leg is enough, she deems, no matter how small it is.

"You’ve got no idea what you’re asking for, angel", she whispers, her voice dark, edged with something starved, something possessive and obsessive. Faith shudders at her words and for but a moment her eyes flutter closed, lashes trembling, and her breath comes in soft little gasps that have the deputy thrust her hips forth slowly. Faith melts perfectly against her despite her bratty attitude this day, her pulse fast, her throat tight with the fingers wrapped around it.

The deputy watches her, drinks in every small movement, every delicate shift, every sweet, helpless noise- and it only makes her hungrier with each passing moment.

"You act so innocent, don’t you, my little lamb?", the woman murmurs, tilting her head, brushing her lips just barely over Faith’s softer ones. "Like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing to me", she adds, a smirk forming at her lips and pressing against her lover's as she hears her answer come in the form of cute whimpers and fingers curling tight around her large arms.

"You think you can just tease me", she whispers, her grip tightening around Faith’s throat, just enough to make her gasp again, her pretty lashes fluttering, her legs tightening around her hips. She feels how hot her core is like this, the panties doing a poor job of hiding her desire.

"You think I'll just let you say all those sweet little things-", her fingers dig into the auburn haired woman's hips, pulling her even closer, until it's impossible for her to be even more so, before she continues; "bat your lashes, smile all soft, and then just walk away from me?"

Faith shakes her head fast, her breath hitching, but she does not speak. Perhaps, because she can't, or perhaps because she chooses not to. The deputy can't tell with her hand around her throat, though she knows her grip is far too light to bruise her sweet lover still.

"No?", she mocks mocks, her voice low, teasing. "I don’t think so, angel. You should know better than to be a brat with me", she warns. She moves fast, a squeal of surprise drawn from the herald as she's shoved down against the table again and pinned in place, the deputy's body heavy against her own softer, more delicate frame. She gasps, but it's a breathy, desperate sound. Never fearful, even like this, for she knows the deputy would kill-

no, she would slaughter-

for her, burn the world down for her.

And as innocent as she acts, deep down, Faith likes it.

The Deputy grins darkly at her as wide, green eyes glance up at her. Faith squirms beneath her, futile little movements that only feed into her lover's dominance, possessiveness and protectiveness over her. She glances down at her, smirking. She knows after all, no one but her gets to see her beautiful herald this way.

"You started this, angel", she murmurs, pressing her mouth to Faith’s pulse point just between her strong fingers, feeling the wild beat of her heart. She bites down- hard, and groans against her sensitive flesh when Faith cries out in response.

Her body arches against her fully, hands grab at her, legs tighten and curl around her. She feels Faith's nails dig into her skin, but cares little for it. She wears each mark she receives from her with pride, whether that be cuts or kisses or deep scratches on her body. her favorite are easily the deep scratches of Faith's nails against her back when she decides to use the strap on her, thrusting hard, dragging her hips back and forth and pushing deep into her. She almost wishes she brought it today, almost wants to pull away to check for the one she keeps in Faith's bunker- a tool only she gets to retrieve.

She then pulls back, her lips wet, watching the mark bloom against Faith’s pale skin. She knows, they will need to cover it eventually. She knows, the situation will get only more complicated should Joseph see any of the marks she places on the precious herald. But in this moment it's only them, and she places as many as she wants.

"Now you’re gonna take what’s coming to you", she whispers against her skin, her tongue darting out to lick over another spot at the woman's neck.

Faith whimpers, her fingers twitching against the woman's strong arms, her breath fast and uneven. She shifts and squirms, trying to move, to test her limits, but the older woman only presses her down harder, her strong body unrelenting, her grip like a vine holding her tight.

She can only squirm and pant as another mark is placed on her throat, her pussy throbbing, her panties clinging to it uncomfortably. She's so wet already, panting beneath her lover, her throat and hip held tight, her body locked in place.

"Where do you think you’re going, angel?", the deputy taunts once she is finished placing her second mark, her breath hot against Faith’s flushed skin, glistening with spit. "I thought you wanted me to teach you a lesson", she coos, scolding playfully.

Faith’s lips part in response, her breath hitching, her pupils blown wide- but there’s still that wicked little glint in her eyes. That small, teasing spark that tells the Deputy she’s not completely broken yet.

She still thinks she’s in control, as she always is in her sweet world of Bliss, as she always is with others, with new recruits, with potential regruits.

Not with her, not now.

The woman only smirks, dark and slow.

That won’t do at all.

She trails her fingers from her hip down Faith’s side, slow, deliberate, just barely touching her over the thin fabric of her sweet dress. It makes the auburn haired woman shiver, her breath coming in small, uneven gasps, but she still has the nerve to arch against her touch, to push back, testing her patience, to try to ask for more.

And she is once again left gasping and groaning, her throat released, her jaw grabbed in its place.

"Still feeling brave, huh?", her lover murmurs, voice low, dangerous. This time, as though pushing her limits, Faith only giggles, breath and teasing, her lips curling up despite the deputy's firm hold on her.

"I don’t know what you mean", she purrs, voice all sweet innocence, like she isn’t deliberately testing her limits, like she wouldn't have been pushed down in a mating press position and ruined had the deputy come a little more prepared, like she isn't mere minutes away from skilled, strong fingers thrusting into her and ruining her for hours.

The deputy chuckles darkly at her, shaking her head as she sighs.

"My angel...", she sighs. "...you just don’t know when to quit"

Her grip tightens, not enough to hurt—just enough to make Faith go still, to make her breath catch, to remind her who she belongs to effortlessly. Slowly, the woman leans in, brushing her lips along Faith’s jaw, her marked throat, not quite kissing- just letting her feel her there, letting her anticipation build as her lips brush against her and her teeth drag against sensitive flesh.

Faith trembles, her small body pinned beneath her, trapped in place, forced to wait for whatever the Deputy is going to do next. She wants more, needs more already, but the deputy doesn’t give into her bratty desires so easily.

Instead, she takes her time, dragging her hand lower, over Faith’s body, feeling the soft curve of her body beneath her fingers. She grips the dress tightly, but knows not to tear it. Briefly, possessiveness flashes through her as she thinks of the stupid fact her beautiful herald is made to wear only what Joseph allows, though when it has her tighten her grip on the woman's jaw and she whimpers, she is quickly snapped out of it and releases her just a little again.

"You act so damn innocent", she murmurs instead, head hanging low as she brushes her lips against Faith’s ear. "But you’re nothing but a little tease, aren’t you? You just need someone to show you how naughty and dirty you really are", she whispers, laughing as the woman's hips buck up and she gasps, her cheeks pink and warm from want and embarassment alike.

She doesn't answer her, tries to turn her head in defiance, though the grip on her jaw forces her in place. And still, her pathetic attempt does not go unnoticed by her lover.

"Oh, now you don’t have anything to say?". she mocks, fingers trailing lower, just barely skimming the edge of Faith’s dress. "What happened to all that smart little mouth of yours?", she questions, her mind racing with fantasies of how she could put that little mouth to use, instead.

Faith gasps, her lashes fluttering, her hands clenching against the wood beneath her. Still, she’s stubborn, and the deputy sees it easily.

The Deputy can see it, the way Faith’s lips twitch, the way she tries to hide her reactions behind that sweet, innocent expression.

So she switches tactics, plays her sweet lover like a violin she has spent years studying.

Slowly, she loosens her grip on Faith’s jaw, instead tracing her thumb along the soft curve of her soft cheek. She leans in again, this time kissing her marked throat, slow, lingering, her lips pressing against every inch of exposed skin, drinking in the way Faith shivers beneath her touch and moans every time she kisses over the marks placed by her, the flesh sore and sensitive there.

Faith whimpers, her fingers twitching like she wants to reach for her, but she doesn’t.

She’s waiting, her eyes wide, her pussy drooling, her nipples hard against the deputy's larger chest.

The Deputy smirks against her skin.

"There it is", she murmurs, dragging her mouth along Faith’s pulse point, feeling the rapid thrum beneath her lips.

"There’s my good girl"

Faith lets out a hot moan at the petname, but the deputy can still feel the tension in her body, the way she’s fighting her own reactions, trying not to give in completely.

That’s fine.

After all, she likes a challenge.

She pulls back just slightly, just enough to meet Faith’s half-lidded, dazed eyes, and drags her hips down just enough to apply the fainted bit of pressure on the woman beneath her.

"You wanna keep playing your little games?", she murmurs, dragging her fingers lightly up and down Faith’s side, making her shudder. "Or are you ready to behave yet?", she asks. She enjoys this, has always enjoyed drawing out foreplay. Especially if it means Faith is dripping for her after, her pussy drooling like a honeypot when she eventually moves between her legs and devours her.

The auburn haired woman swallows hard, her breath still coming fast, her cheeks flushed.

She hesitates, considering her options, just a second too long.

The deputy's grin turns sharp as she speaks again;

"Guess I’ll have to make the choice for you, little lamb"

And just like that, she’s pulling Faith off the table, flipping her roughly onto her stomach, and easily pins her down with one strong hand against her lower back. She gasps beneath her, her wrists held against her back, her entire body held down. She's panting, but the deputy is already pushing her dress up, exposing the soft, delicate skin of her thighs and a part of her white-pink panties beneath.

She shivers as she feels the woman run a hand over her thighs, her touch slow and teasing, but no matter how much she squirms the deputy firmly holds her in place.

"No more running", she murmurs, her voice all gravel and heat. "You’re mine now, angel", she breathes out, catching how her younger lover whimpers and moans, her smaller fingers clenching into fists, her body helpless beneath her touch.

No matter how many silos she blows up and bases she takes out, this,

this,

is when she feels most in control.

"W-what are you- ?", Faith breathes out as she feels fingers toying with her dress, having at last found her voice, but the Deputy only grins, slow and hungry.

"You wanna act like a brat today?", she murmurs, her voice low, thick with dominance before she adds; "Then you’re gonna get treated like one". The words alone have Faith shiver, unsure how a punishment may look. Sometimes, they're mild, usually when her lover is in a good mood. Just once she picked a bad day to be a massive brat on, the consequences still visible and for her to feel days after, her body weak and bruised, her pussy utterly sore and ass aching with every little step, her womb pumped full of fake cum to add to her humiliation, humiliation that just wouldn't go away no matter how hard she tried to pray, until her lover cooed and reassured her and licked the oozing wetness from her sensitive folds again.

Briefly, she tries to push her thighs together, as though hoping to control the situation even a little. She feels her wrists be squeezed in return, gasps as she's pulled a little closer to the edge of the table and her toes graze against the floor beneath her.

"Oh no, angel, you don't get to be in charge", the deputy coos, the words exciting the other woman. She relaxes a little against the table at them, relaxes knowing that this means she will be taken care of. With her deputy she never has to be in charge, doesn't have to think or plan, doesn't have to worry. Well, aside from the punishments when she's bratty, such as the one she know is bound to come soon with her in such a compromising position.

She sucks in a breath, her body tensing as though to prepare her for it, but the deputy can see the way her fingers twitch, the way her back arches ever so slightly, like she wants this- like she’s been craving someone to finally put her in her place again after having had ot play her role as the strong, cute, seductive herald luring others in for too long.

The Deputy leans down, her lips brushing against Faith’s ear as she commands; "Count for me, angel"

Faith whimpers, her fingers twitching, her breath coming in quick, uneven gasps. She knows what it means, knows what comes. She can only consider herself lucky the deputy seems too eager to continue this to retrieve other tools, to retrieve hairbrushes and paddles she'd regularly use to spank her with. She knows well enough, though...the strong, callused hands are more than capable of turning her ass red and blue should she disobey, still.

But she still hesitates.

Still clings to that last bit of defiance, excitement drooling in her stomach. She knows, the punishment will hurt. Ah, but the pleasure after feels so good. She yearns for it, yearns for punishment followed by love and care, pleasure and happiness, after experiencing pain for so many years and having only the bliss to help her cope.

The deputy's grin turns sharp. Still, she decides to go easier on her precious girlfriend today, opting for removing her thick, sharp rings before she raises her hand and strikes. No need to cut her ass today, not over her little brat trying to be a tease.

The sharp crack echoes through the room, and Faith gasps, her whole body jerking forward, her back arching instincitvely, her pussy tightening and drooling against the white-pink panties.

"O-one-!", she breathes out, and the deputy smirks.

"There’s my good girl. Keep it up, and we won't have to be at this for very long", she hums, letting her palm soothe over the now-warm ass cheeks and reddening skin. She takes in the cute red shape of it, though frowns at the panties still covering her lover.

No, those won't do at all.

Faith shivers as she feels the deputy's fingers grab the panties sharply, then shrieks as they're torn from her, the thin fabric snapping and tearing at a single harsh yank that has her body pull back to the edge of the table again.

Then, another slap.

Faith cries out again, her fingers curling and her wrist pushing against the fingers holding her, her breath coming fast and uneven.

"Two!", she calls out obediently, her voice breathless. She feels as though her ass is on fire from just two spanks already, her pain resistance surprisingly low given her history, her pussy tightening as she feels the woman's hand stroke over her skin. The deputy hums in approval, her free hand stroking down Faith’s spine, feeling every little shudder, every tremor that runs through her delicate frame. She watches hungrily as a string of wetness drools from Faith's soaked, exposed pussy, her thighs trembling, but held apart for her, the brat finally made to be a good girl again.

"You starting to learn, angel?", she taunts, her voice like a dark caress. "Or do I need to keep going?", she threatens, chuckling as her lover whimpers, her small body trembling beneath her hand. She knows how to play her well by now, knows every bit of discipline only makes her softer, needier, hotter.

And Lord, the deputy just loves seeing her like this.

She leans down, pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss to the back of Faith’s shoulder, letting her teeth graze the skin. This time, when her hand comes down as a surprise, Faith cries out and jerks beneath her, tears forming in her eyes.

"Three!", she calls out before she can even be reminded to do so. She feels the hand caress her warm, reddened cheeks, feels as the deputy fondles her thick ass for a moment before the hand travels up her body again. The deputy chuckles behind her, her hand coming up to once again grip at her lover's jaw and tilt her head back enough to spot the dazed, glassy look in her big, teary green eyes.

"Oh, angel...", she murmurs, mocking, dragging her thumb across Faith’s soft lips and groaning, her own core wet and sticky and her pussy throbbing with want. "...now you’re getting it, Faith"

The woman nods without thinking, her lashes fluttering, her lips parting slightly, her breath warm against the Deputy’s fingers.

And that’s it. The beautiful moment she submits completely, her bratty defiance melting into soft, obedient submission for her lover. The deputy watches hungrily as the last of her resitance crumbles, feels her sink into her hold, her body relaxed and pliant, her will completely surrendered to her, a silent plead to take care of her, unspoken, but clear.

And she would never think of denying her.

Mine, she Deputy thinks, her grip tightening possessively around Faith’s jaw, holding her in place as she leans in- slow, savoring, like she has all the time in the world. Her lips drag against the shell of Faith's ear, her thigh slipping between the woman's spread legs as she leans over her completely. As the soaked, flowery folds rub against the tight material of her lover's jeans, Faith only moans and whimpers, blushes sweetly and leans into the touch. She doesn't hump, doesn't grind down, knowing now is a time in which she is meant to be perfectly behaved for her lover.

She sighs, happy.

She knows how to behave for her, and finds immense comfort in it. She turns her head a little as the woman speaks again, the movement allowed as the grip on her jaw lessens just a little.

"Now, angel", the deputy breathes, dragging her lips over the shell of Faith’s ear, "you’re gonna be real good for me, aren’t you?"

And her lover nods quickly, her breath uneven, her whole body shivering in anticipation. She feels the leg grind against her pussy steadily, moans and gasps softly as her clit is massaged. She knows, she is prepared.

And her whole body yearns for it.