#you are such a lovely person have a nice day

[404-unfoundbymystudents]

Sometimes, you go to uni. And someone says "hey, nice Zelda bag, do you play board games?"

And then you are chatting to someone at uni board games club, and they mention that they're starting a dnd club.

So you go to that. And the guy in charge of the dnd club isn't great, but you meet two people at the table who are pretty cool.

So you end up leaving the club, but playing a dnd campaign with these people.

And then, later, a new person joins, who's trans. And it reminds you of the ache you have felt your entire life, the knowledge that Your Body is Not It.

So, you come out to the dnd group, because you know they are welcoming to the other guy.

And one of them says "have you got a name? No way I'm calling you by your deadname". And so, he starts calling you by the character you just cosplayed.

The name sticks.

Later, it turns out this guy is a bit of a prick (and also would only date "real" guys. Not that I wanted to date him, but, red flag).

But you're still at uni, and you do like dnd. So you find a group on the other side of town via a local Facebook group.

Eventually, the DMs unwillingness to "lose" to the players grates on your nerves, and you use uni work as an excuse to stop playing.

A few months later, one of the other players says "hey, I'm running a game, do you wanna join? I've quit [redacted]s game because he doesn't listen to feedback".

And you say yes.

Most of the rest of the players haven't played before, but it's a lot of great people and it's a decent game.

And there, outside the house after the game, a game that took so many tiny coincidences to get to, so many people that had good, bad, neutral impacts on me.

I sat on the curb and talked to the person that would end up being my best friend. Someone who has changed my life for the better in so many ways. (Even if I didn't know it at the time)

Anyway, @thatgirlwhokeepsreading I'm sure this is exactly what you expected when you reblogged this post. (it's not Esther day, but I love U)

(and beyond that even. Through this, I met some more people and then more, including a guy who was just starting his trans journey - 6 years after I had started mine. And I have been so happy to be able to 'big bro' support him, and I know he appreciates having someone to talk to)

What’s crazy is you can just meet someone and have no idea they’re going to change your life forever

[teaspoontarot]

Pick A Card: What Will The New Year Bring?

Pick a pile 1-4!

These messages are meant to sweeten your day and add a teaspoon of fun! You will always know yourself and your situation the best, therefore everything written here is just to give you a little nudge or to add a little sweetness!

🍵 Teaspoon

Pile 1 💫

Back in business! This past year has had its ups and downs especially regarding the home or close friends. Possibly involving rumor or gossip that has caused tension and pain. You’ve opened the windows and let the air blow through so anything that didn’t need to stay has found its way out.This year you’re focusing on the practical side of life. The turning of a new leaf 🍃.

You’ve been honest with yourself and others and now you’re moving on! You’re no longer waiting for someone to join you in your life and are now focused on just enjoying the ride as it comes. Good tidings and joy for this new year, a more relaxed (or enjoyable) roller-coaster than the one you just got off of. This year isn’t so much about slowing down but more so appreciating how far you’ve come.

There’s still a lot left to do but from where you’re standing the view already looks pretty great. You’re putting down new roots and making a name for yourself!

The new year brings stability and foundation. A new business venture or recognition. A rise in self-esteem and better communication. Joy to be found in the unlikeliest of places.

Tarot Card For The Year Ahead

Two of Swords ⚔️

“Aim for a meeting of minds, for your mutual interest…working on trust and knowing when to trust a hunch”

Affirmations

“When I Think I’ve Surrendered, I Surrender More”

“I Speak Positively of Others”

“I Spread Joy”

Pile 2 ✨

Healing, healing, healing. Learning to forgive yourself and to love yourself with grace. There’s someone you’ve walked away from and the pain still stings. You’ve been stabbed in the side and still hoped that it was simply an accident.

You want to love and cherish so much that you feel a bit silly. Maybe you feel like you need to force yourself back to reality or that what you want simply isn’t for you. This is gentle reminding you that whatever happened does not mean the end. Very rarely is the world so black and white, and frequently things that are broken can be healed or find a new space in the world.

Do not be harsher on yourself than you would be to somebody else. You don’t have to always rise above it all, sometimes it’s nice to rest and find a place to sleep. Stormy waters do not make stronger swimmers, just more tired one. You may feel like you’ve been drowning for years and you’ve only been able to find stray driftwood to cling onto. You will find land, and it will feel strange but good. You’ve swam for so long it feels odd to rest. Forgive yourself for the rest you need. The help will fill it’s way to you.

Your new year brings much needed space, healing, and little discomfort but ultimately what is needed to find stability and foundation.

Tarot Card For The Year Ahead

Ace of Cups 💘

"The start of something wonderful: a taste of whatever is your Holy Grail”

Affirmations

“I Find Deeper Meaning, And Personal Growth Amid The Discomfort”

“I Am Forgiving”

Pile 3🎆

Dreams coming true! You’ve been focused and have faced obstacles you never thought you could get over. Now comes the easy part! Be excited and gracious as this new year rings in. The times when you were honest even though it scared you are pushing you forward.

Honesty does not have to be cruel, it can be sweet and show truth warmth for yourself and others. You’re finding the people who understand you the most and the goals you’ve carried on your back for so long you have finally found space for them.

You’ve climbed the mountain with a heavy burden and now it is time to enjoy the sunrise! Take a seat, have a drink of your choice and share a laugh.

The new year is all about joy, friends, family and an appreciation of what it took to get there. People have your back and you have theirs, true partnership! Love surrounds you in the new year! Enjoy it!

Tarot For The Year Ahead

Ten of Swords 🌠

“The battle has been won! Expect a hug release of pent-up energy in your heart and body”

Three of Swords 🌟

“You have the opportunity to establish the contract. Be fair in your arrangements”

Eight of Pentacles🌹

“A regular and reliable arrangement or resource: sometimes we just want someone who can comfortably deliver”

Affirmations

“My Energy Creates My Reality. What I Focus On Is What I Will Manifest”

“I Do Good”

Pile 4🌸

Everything that you're wanting is waiting for you but you have to let go of someone or something. This is the year of transformation or renewal. Spring is coming and it wants to invite you in with open arms. Let yourself bloom as you need to.

You are being asked to take a little more control in the matters that may be impacting you. There may be a hard conversation you will have to have with yourself about what you truly want. You have to be honest with yourself. There’s an open door waiting for you but you fear walking through it and worry about the consequences of such an action. A slight feeling of indecision but you already know the answer, it’s the moving forward that is scary.

There are people that will meet you on the other side, and there are others rooting for you to take that first step. Like baby bird trying to crack open it’s shell. The world is awaiting you, in all of it’s harsh beauty. Staying where you are will lead to discontent.

The new year bring you discomfort, but truth and the power to push forward.

Tarot For The Year Ahead

The Awakening🎊

“Accept a unique opportunity. Allow yourself to be overwhelmed. Make a liberating change in your worldview”

Seven of Pentacles✈️

“Don’t overthink a situation that simply needs to run its course”

The Hanged One🚞

“Be aware of an uncomfortable limbo. Being stuck in role”

Affirmations

“I Am The Dreamer of My Dream”

“I Consume Only My Fair Share”

“I Hold Purity In High Esteem”

“I Regard All Altars With Respect”

[hotteokyu]

who are you, who am I

Synopsis ~ No words. No sight. No thoughts. You grew here in this cell, alone. You realize there’s a person on the other side of the cell wall when you hear his cries. You can’t speak. You can’t see. You can’t touch. But he becomes your closest friend. Closer than the silence of the cell. Until that silence is disturbed. And you need more than his soft voice. You need to escape. You need him.

Pairing ~ prisoner!yunho x prisoner!reader

Word count ~ 13.8k

Genre / warnings ~ explicit sexual content MINORS DNI, romance, prisoners, cells, handcuffed, muzzle, blindfolded, mention of forced pregnancy, cult-like implications, stripped for an audience, non-consensual touching at times, a bit disturbing, kind of a roller coaster, murder, blood, cursing, forbidden love, fight for love, yunho's an idol, yunho not referred to by name for most of it, petnames: puppy / princess / baby / etc., desperate touching, desperate love, masturbation, shower sex, oral sex (male recieving), kissing, grinding, rough sex, crying, comfort

a/n ~ tell me what you think ;p

     There’s a person on the other side of the wall. 

     Tied up with thick cuffs, a tight muzzle around your mouth, dark cloth over your eyes. You see the wall with your hands as you roam your cell when master goes away. 

     The lonely, timeless days and nights are all the same, except now you have a friend. 

     He’s silly. When he wants to say hello, he taps the wall in a cute way, tap tip-tip tap tap. 

     He enjoys your company too, becoming comfortably silent as you hum him a song. Your lips can’t move because of the muzzle, so all you’ve ever confessed to him are your songs. 

     He sings for you too, and you love his voice. It’s low, and, if you press close enough to the wall, you can feel its vibrations. 

     You call him puppy in your head because whenever you want to play with him, you hear him eagerly scrambling to get to the wall, just like a little puppy. 

     You wonder what your puppy looks like. You wonder why master keeps him. You wonder if he wonders the same things about you. 

     But today is exciting. Today is a shower day. You’re not sure how often master lets you shower, but you haven’t gone out since you first noticed your new friend. You can hardly sleep, you’re so excited. 

     This could be your chance to see him. 

       The guard comes just as the black of your blindfold starts turning to a dark gray. He guides you with a padded arm out of your cell. You know the exact placement of every crevice in the cell relative to you. You stub your foot into the side of the entrance as he guides you out. You fall to the ground with a harsh slam. The concrete isn’t kind to your skin, and you feel your blood trickle onto the ground nicely. 

     The guard curses and grabs your scraped arm, pulling you to stand. He’s impatient, the tight schedule of the dungeon pulling his mind toward careless rushing. 

     He guides you again, whispering to himself in annoyance, and you stumble over his foot, almost crashing to the ground again. 

     “Fuck!” he growls. “Why do you need this stupid fucking blindfold anyway?!” He’s whispering but screaming in frustration, spitting into the air as his hand yanks the blindfold from your eyes. 

     And suddenly the light is blinding you for the first time in forever. 

     “Don’t tell anyone, bitch,” the guard spits, and you nod, blinking rapidly as he urges you to move again. 

     You go right, eyeing the next cell. Its glass is squeaky clean. He’s new, just like you thought. As you walk, slowly, stumbling in pain, you look closely into the cell, and, finally, you see him there. 

     Your puppy. 

     He’s big, hands tied up on his bed and black prisoner rags baggy on his figure. His muzzle matches yours, by what you’ve gathered from feeling it, desperately scratching to get it off. His head lays sleepily and sadly on the mattress, and his hair is a dark brown, nearly black, wavy as it falls into his eyes. And his eyes… aren’t covered like yours should be. They’re wide, and beautiful, and gazing right at you. Your puppy nearly jumps from his bed, his pupils trembling, but you slowly shake your head, and he freezes. 

     You love your puppy even more now, innocent and adorable as he begs you with his eyes to stay in his view. But the only thing you can give him is a squint of your eyes to show your attempt at a soft smile. 

     And then you turn the corner, and he’s gone. 

     You shut your eyes tight, facing straight forward as the guard guides you, though you know the route by heart. When you stop, it’s not at the showers, and when the guard suddenly hits the floor, you know he’s dead. 

     “My, look at you.” Master’s voice is chilling, but you’ve grown numb to it over time. He likes to talk, for you can do nothing but listen. “My favorite girl knows how to act,” he praises. The blindfold, lying uselessly around your neck, is yanked back over your eyes. “She knows that if she opens her eyes, she’ll be killed.” He pats your shoulder, stroking it lightly with his thumb, and you press your lips together tightly, the uncomfortable damp warmth of his skin making a quick gag approaching their seal. You feel his breath beside your ear, a thick string of drool between his teeth as he stretches his lips with his words. “I might have to reward her.”

       The shower never felt so rewarding as it does after having that creature lay his hand on you. You can hear his slime slick from his skin to the floor as he moves. As the cold water spills over your shoulders, you sigh, feeling it all melt away as if it’s steaming. 

     The water slides down your bare body, one you’ve never seen, its form unfamiliar to you, as you haven’t known yourself since being a little girl. You feel the metal of the belt around your hips. You don’t know why they cover your genitals with this belt, but it makes cleaning very difficult. 

     But now, alone where no one but the stream can see you, you could grin if not for the muzzle restricting your lips. Your mind keeps straying to his face, one you’ve, since you first heard his gentle cry from the other side of that wall, dreamed of seeing. You were able to witness for a split second. And you’re addicted.

As soon as you’re put back in your cage and the clacks of the guard’s shoes leave the hallway, your puppy scrambles to the wall. He hums softly but eagerly, quietly so that no one knows, but loud enough for you to know it's desperate. He whines softly until you hum back. You can imagine him now, head resting against the wall, hair dragging softly along its surface as he stares into the concrete as if he might see you. He wants to see you again, you can feel it in the whimpers as he scrapes against the wall. You want to see him again, too. But that desire can’t overtake you. You’ve lived here, grown here in this dungeon. You know patience is the only way you can even have the privilege of thinking about getting what you want. 

     For now, you close your eyes and think of your beautiful puppy’s face. You drift to sleep like that, listening to his soft, even breaths. 

     When you awake, the blindfold is pitch black. The dungeon is silent except for your puppy’s breath. It isn’t even or calm. He must be having a bad dream. He’s panting, soft, muffled whimpers reaching your ears. You sit up, your brows furrowing. Something isn’t right. There’s a new sound, one you’ve never heard before, from his side of the wall. Something slow and wet rubbing together. Could it be that the poor puppy was so scared in his sleep that he had an accident?

     “Mm?” you call out softly, and he gasps. The noise stops instantly, and he goes silent. You hum again, quietly, with pure concern, and he whimpers, almost guiltily. 

     No, it’s okay, puppy, you’re not in trouble. 

     But then the sound continues, and he lets out a shaky breath. You smell something sweet in the air, something warm and new. Your eyes grow wide as it all clicks suddenly. Looking down at your hands tied in front of you, your mind wanders quickly to what he might be doing just a few inches away from you. He’s panting now, his breaths vocal and soft and desperate. He’s trying to hold his voice back, his nose working hard but failing to breathe. You hear him squirm against the concrete, and you can imagine it vividly, having seen him with your own eyes. And he’s beautiful, pleasuring himself. His voice, higher than its usual low, soothing tone, needy and shameless. His body, thin yet large, clinging to the wall as he bends his tied arms uncomfortably just to make himself feel good. It’s wet. It’s so wet. He’s leaking all over himself, his precum lubing himself as he goes faster and faster. 

     Puppy has never acted like this before. Why is he suddenly so desperate? And why is just hearing him like this making you so dazed?

     His breath grows heavier, his movements desperate, his rhythm lost until it suddenly stops, and his voice disappears, the wet slide of his hand going slow until it stops completely, and he’s able to catch his breath. 

     You sigh, leaning your head against the wall. He had all that fun without you and expects you to be patient with your plan? How are you not supposed to rush to see him?

     You sleep on your bed for the rest of the night. He deserves to sleep alone after making everything so much more difficult for you. You could scream into your pillow. You need more than just hums and songs through the wall. You need to be with him. 

       Master comes to visit you more often these days. He never comes inside, and you’re grateful. He just talks to you, tells you about his problems. It’s good that he’s warming up to you, that you’re his favorite. You want something from him. 

     On the seventh time he comes to visit, you come up close to the glass and put your hand against it.

     “What is it, girl?” he asks, coming closer. You can hear his breath near your face, but you force yourself to stay there. You slowly reach with your hands and grasp your muzzle, tilting your head with furrowed, pleading brows. Then, you touch the glass again, right where his breath sounds. He hums. “Now, what could my little girl possibly need her mouth for?” But, of course, you can’t tell him. You sit there, pleading with your grip on the glass, until he sighs. “I suppose she could keep me company.” 

     That night, when the blindfold starts to grow darker, the muzzle is unlatched from your jaw. Your face aches and trembles as you stretch your lips for the first time in years. It hurts, but it’s so amazing, finally having your jaw free. Finally, you can start your escape. 

     Master doesn’t come back for a while. He said he will be busy, but you should reteach yourself to speak properly for when he returns. You will. You’ll talk all night long, all day, all week, forever to your wall. For your master, of course. 

     Puppy knocks quietly on the wall, and you’re the one who scrambles to meet him there in excitement. He’ll be so happy. He’ll want to escape with you. He’ll help you, and you can get out of here. And you’ll be together.

     Your breath trembles as you gaze at the black of the cloth, sitting on the cold floor in your tightly bound clothing, staring toward the wall. He’s silent. He must have heard everything. He listens well when you have visitors. He must know that he’ll finally be able to hear you speak to him. 

     “I…” Your voice is soft, only for his ears. “I’m Y/n.” He hums happily. Maybe he likes your name. “Do you know… you’re so pretty?” you ask, knowing he can’t answer. He’s quiet, and you can imagine the soft blush on his cheeks. “I’ve been alone for years. You’re my only friend. All I want is to see you again. You’re so pretty…” You lean your head against the wall, wishing it wasn’t there more than ever. “Do you think I’m pretty?”

     “Mhm!” he immediately responds, and you can’t stop the wide smile that you can finally make without close restrictions.

     “Is that why you were so worked up? The time you saw me?” He goes quiet, even his little excited breaths disappearing for a moment. 

     “Mhm…” He’s quiet, embarrassed. 

     Your face starts to heat up, as if you could feel his warm breath across your skin. “It’s not fair,” you whisper, “that you get to touch yourself when I can’t.” He huffs, a soft laugh echoing throughout the cells. “Is that funny?” you scoff, but he just continues his gentle laugh until you can’t help but smile too, tilting your head in disbelief.

     You lay and talk to him for hours. Or forever. You can’t keep track of time, but the cloth grows grey, and you’re still talking. He’s so engaging, in all ways that he can be. You tell him stories of your life before coming here and even funny things you’ve encountered in the cell. You ask him how the world has changed, and he’s mostly responded no to your guesses. 

     “But who are you,” you sigh, laying on your back, staring at the ceiling through the thick mask over your eyes. “What’s your name? I want to know so bad.” He sighs. “How old are you? Why are you here? What was your life like?” But he can’t answer. “For now, you’ll just be my friend.”

       “My girl, your voice is as pretty as ever. You’re almost fully developed, I can see. Soon, we’ll put you on display for the elders.” Master takes your hands in his, clasping them harshly, and you fight the urge to pull away. “Since the elders would love you even more with those lips of yours bound up, I’ll let you have them out until they see you.” You force a soft smile. 

     “Thank you,” you whisper, “Master.”

     “Oh, that sounds nice,” he coos. “Is that what you call me in that tiny head of yours?” You nod. “How obedient.”

     “I want to be good for you.” 

     He sighs with a soft chuckle. “I knew you were special since you were just a little girl. Now, look at you.”

     Fuck, you’re going to throw up. No, no, hold it in.

     “Thank you for looking after me, Master,” you say, keeping the smile plastered on your lips.

     He sighs before moving away from you. “Prepare her carefully over the next few days. Make her perfect. By Sunday, I want her in the tank.”

     Your eyes grow wide in both horror and relief. This is it. 

     “Thank you, Master,” You say, and his hand taps your cheek.

     “Enjoy your voice, girl. It’ll be gone again soon.”

      “Puppy, don’t be scared,” you whisper through the wall. He’s breathing heavily, soft, suppressed sobs escaping his lips. “Shhh… It’ll be okay. I’ll protect you no matter what.”

     “Mhm,” he whimpers. “Mhm. Mhm…” His voice is breaking. He’s crying, and yet you can’t reach out and wipe the tears from his cheeks. Your fists clench, bound together uselessly. 

     “I won’t go anywhere without you,” you whisper.

     The footsteps echoing through the hall don’t belong to a guard or master. It’s someone new.

     “I’ll come back for you no matter what.”

     “L/n. Please come with me.” It’s a lady. She has a soft voice, but she raises it knowingly to something commanding yet comforting. She won’t hurt you. She’s simply following orders. No malice. No evil. You get up, staring at the wall as if you could see it or your puppy sitting with wide, tear filled eyes, desperately trying to be silent. 

     You follow her. No need for a guide. When she sits you down in a cushioned chair, she slowly removes the blindfold from your eyes. The room is dimly lit, as they understand you haven’t used your eyes in years. You keep them closed. 

     “Open your eyes,” she says, and you do. “Look straight ahead. Do not let them stray.” You do. 

     In front of you is a TV. You saw them in your home when you were younger before the day you were sold away. It’s a small box, showcasing an auditorium. You’ve only ever seen one of those once when you went to a theater with your mother. The audience on the TV is filled with old people, both men and women. They’re watching the stage, but you can’t see what exactly it is. The camera is on the stage, it seems. 

     “Have you seen their faces before?” the lady asks, and you stare harder at the screen. Glancing from face to face, you come to realize, you know only one. You nod. “Which one?”

     “Right side. Third row. Seven seats in.”

     She writes it down. 

     “Any others?”

     “No.”

     “And who is that lady then? Whom you recognize?” 

     She’s old, but, of course, anyone would recognize her if they were you. You dreamed about her face every night or whenever sleep would grace you. You dreamed about what you would do to her if you ever saw her again. Old, wrinkly, and ugly, but surely her…

     “My mother.”

     She writes it down. 

     “How many years have passed,” you ask curiously. You can’t take your eyes off of her. Senses unbound completely, your expression contorts into something small and furious, “since the day I came here.”

     “Don’t scrunch your face,” she says, and you stop. “We’ve worked hard preserving your features. Don’t ruin it, or he’ll kill you for being useless.”

     Your brow twitches at the new information. Preserving your features? That makes sense. In your muzzle and blindfold, you could hardly move your face, your smiles stiff and restrained, features moving but hardly without great pain. 

     “Will I get to meet her again?” you ask, and she writes silently, the scribbles of the pencil filling the room as you watch the old people on the screen, frustration filling you.

     “You’ll know soon enough.” She senses your body heat rising quickly. “Be patient.”

     Right, she’s right. Patience.

     “She’ll be rewarded greatly for her sacrifice,” she says.

     “Who are the elders? Them?” you question, but she doesn’t answer.  

     “Tomorrow, you’ll be groomed and then put in a new cell so you look perfect for Sunday.”

     “What day is it today?” you ask, a sudden rush of concern hitting you. Do you only have a day to figure everything out?

     “Return her to her cell.”

     No. No, that’s not enough time. You thought you had more time. You can’t figure everything out in a day. If you’re taken away… you won’t get to escape. It’ll be over. You can’t do it. You can’t figure it out.

     Rough hands cover your features with your muzzle and blindfold, and everything is once again locked away.

       Your cell is silent until it’s not. The guard has left, but there’s a body looming over you. Your eyes are wide, your lips quivering. They smell familiar, and the trembling breath is something you know well, but it’s not possible. It isn’t until soft, trembling hands scratch at your blindfold that you see him. His forehead is pressed against yours, his body pushing you into the wall. His brows are pinched as he desperately gazes from one eye to the other. Puppy.

     His whimpers would meet your lips if not for the muzzles surrounding our mouths. He’s surrounding you completely, much bigger, much stronger than you, but he doesn’t even realize it, trying to be closer and closer to you. Though your hands are bound, he wants to touch you, sitting between your legs as he brings your bodies as close as possible. 

     You’re confused, and concerned, and overwhelmed, but the happiness of seeing your puppy right here in front of you overshadows all of those feelings. Tears are dripping from his eyes, maybe from bliss or worry. It’s so beautiful. 

     You lean closer, letting your head fall to his shoulder. His whimpers meet your ear, his soft breaths matching your own. 

     You look around and immediately spot the hole in the corner of your cell. Fuck, if anyone finds that, you’re both dead. You’ll cover it with your bed. It makes you laugh, just how small the hole is compared to your big puppy. He must have been so desperate to see you, squeezing in any way he could. 

     And then your laugh fades, and a tear drips from your eye. 

     It’ll be okay. 

     You push him away gently, and even so he’s reluctant. It takes a soft, reassuring hum to get him to move away. His eyes are so pretty, big and bloodshot, just for you to gaze into. You slowly close your eyes, and he pulls the blindfold over them once again. Then he’s gone, the soft scrape of your bed against the concrete sealing him into his side of the wall. 

It’ll be okay. 

You’re stripped almost completely, the only things left being the cuffs around your wrists, the chastity belt, and the muzzle around your jaw. A body once bound tightly by clothing is now bare. Your youthful features are perfect in their eyes. They’ve done a phenomenal job preserving them. To you, they’re unfamiliar. Ugly. Not your own. The only thing familiar to you which you want at all is your puppy. The compliments they give you as you walk down the halls, eyes unbound but closed, are disgusting, if anything, but meaningless. You become deaf for the first time in years. Your only sense has always been your hearing, but now you forget that too. You are nothing for the long minutes walking mindlessly down the hall, hands tied to a man, tied to Master, tied to the audience that you will be presented to. 

     When you open your eyes again, the tank is here. It’s on the stage which was blocked on the TV. It’s full of clear liquid, but it must not be water. Its surface doesn’t dare move. It’s thick, almost solid. The final preservation. 

     “Ladies and gentlemen!” Master has never raised his voice to such an extent before. It’s always been quiet and broken, just for your ears. Now, he speaks to hundreds, if not thousands of elders much like him. “Our latest graduate! Her visuals are phenomenal, voice like a siren, and obedient like the perfect woman!” The room erupts in a quick laughter. “We’ve grown her from a young girl to a beautiful adult, donated by one amongst you! Please take a close look! She’s a beauty!” 

     You’re urged forward, your feet stumbling momentarily until you’re brought under a blinding spotlight. You can’t see the audience anymore, only imagine the faces some of them would make as he described you. Tongues darting out, wrinkly, cracked lips wetted, smirks, trembles as they said something to the person beside them. The years locked in your cell, you could never even guess as to why you were locked away. You still have no idea what’s happening, but if you had known your eyes would adjust to this light and see those faces, staring at you, drooling at you, bare in front of them, you would have risked it all to run away. Fuck patience. 

     Now your master’s slimy, clammy hands are pushing you toward that tank. And you can say nothing. Do nothing but look. Hands and mouth bound, you can do nothing but look.

     The liquid is thick. You’ve only ever touched water, so what could this possibly be? It’s sticky, drawing you inside slowly and carefully. To your legs. To your hips. Your body trembles, cold, terrified. 

     “This graduate is simply too perfect to sell,” Master explains to the audience, gently stroking your hair. You almost give in and push him away. “But, if we have one perfect girl, why not twenty more? Why not fifty?!” He laughs, and everyone follows along. “I’m sure you’ve read all about our new technology! It’s revolutionary! This fluid preserves her youthful features both externally and internally. Her eggs won’t die with age. She can produce to her full capability while frozen in the tank! Isn’t it wonderful?”

     You can hear your heart over the oohs and aahs of the creatures in the crowd. It’s loud and fast yet not fast enough to support your churning mind. Should you kill yourself right now? That thought enters twice for every three thoughts of escape entering your mind. You really should. You should just kill yourself before your body enters this fluid completely. 

     It’s up to your chest, your arms frozen practically solid already. You’re gone. You’re done. You can’t even end your life. This is your ending. 

     It’s to your neck. Your heartbeat is gone from your ears, from your chest, but it continues on. It’s odd. It’s frozen, but you move slowly into it. It stops all functions, but all of your senses are enhanced within its cold envelope. It seeps into the muzzle, filling what little space is creviced in its metal to your lips to your jaw. You can’t breathe, but somehow the fluid breathes for you, air entering and exiting your lungs at a steady rhythm. Your ears. You can’t hear any longer, as if you could before. As if everything hadn’t gone numb the second you learned the truth. The second you saw the tank. The audience. Your eyes are too late to close as they’re submerged in the fluid. They won’t close. They won’t flutter. They look out into the audience, wide and unrestricted. Finally, you can see. Forever you’ll see. This is what you’ll see. The top of your head is overtaken by the fluid, and the tank closes. Everything is silent. Everything is numb. Everything is fucking over. 

     And you have to watch it all happen.

     Master comes around the front of the tank holding a tube of sorts. He opens a little door on the front of the tank and reaches into the fluid. Nothing spills out. It stays obediently still. He reaches the tube toward your chastity belt, but freezes, his eyes darting to the tank. Through the tank. He looks terrified, eyes bulging from their sockets. He drops the tube, desperately tugging at his arm to free it from the fluid. He turns to run, but a hand grabs his hair and slams him to the ground. You would start sobbing at the sight. Puppy, livid, veins bulging from his arms to his neck to his face. He raises his arms high, and when he slams them down, an axe splits Master’s head from his neck. The blood sprays over the glass of the tank, covering it completely. You hear a muffled slam and then the entirety of the glass shatters all at once. It collapses around you, but the fluid stays all the same. You see him, panting, painted red, glaring at you as he grips the axe, now snapped in two. 

     When he finally drops it, his brows soften, his veins pulsing but calming as he reaches out. His hands rush through the fluid, faster than they should be able to. He grabs you, and he pulls you to him until only the remnants of the fluid touch your skin, and you’re held tightly in his arms. You fall limp, the coating of the fluid preventing you from being able to move much. Even if you could, you might’ve just let your puppy take you away, leaning your cheek against his chest. The hallway, as he runs from the stage, is covered in blood from the floor to the ceiling. You close your eyes, feeling his hold on you tighten the further he travels and the bloodier the stench and the sight becomes. Until you hear something you haven’t heard in years. 

     Birds. 

     Trees. 

     Wind.

     Him. 

     You let your eyes look up into the sky. It’s so blue. Who knew something could be so blue?

     You recognize the glass box, the phone, the city. It’s timeless, unchanging from what you remember. It’s familiar. How nice. Puppy sets you down, and you lean weakly against the glass. He strips his shirt from his skin and quickly fumbles it over your head. What was tight on him is huge on you, covering you from your shoulders to your thighs. His chest is bare, but he doesn’t care.

     He works quickly on your cuffs. They’re practically unbreakable. Night after night, you would desperately rub them and scratch them and bang them however you could, but they were unbreakable. He snapped them in two, the metal falling to your lap uselessly. Your hands tremble as they reach out… uncuffed. His eyes look from one to the other as your hands cup his cheeks, fingers wrapping around the latch to his muzzle. It’s much like yours, only bigger. With a few motions, it too was gone, and you could see his pretty features completely. He was adorable, soft, newly abused lips perfect and plump, trembling as he paws at your own muzzle. He must not know how to take it off. His lips form a gentle scowl in frustration as he grips and pulls at it. You let him struggle for a while, smiling softly. How nice this feels… to be wanted so desperately. To be loved so thoroughly. 

     “Y/n,” he whimpers, and your eyes twitch, tears just touching the surface at the simple sound, so low, so pretty from his voice. “Help me, please,” he whispers. 

     You cover his hands with your own, and he leans his forehead against yours, eyes fluttering closed as you slowly unlatch your muzzle. You set it aside and run your fingers through his hair, pulling his head just a bit closer. His breath trembles against your lips, so comforting as you start to shiver in the cool breeze. 

     “What’s your name?” you whisper, and his eyes flutter open.

     “Yunho,” he answers, gazing at your lips as they form a gentle smile. 

     “Yunho,” you repeat. “Yunho. Yunho is pretty too. So pretty.”

     “You lied to me, Y/n,” he whispers, and your smile fades. He’s hurt. “You said you would come back no matter what, but you didn’t.” His jaw clenches, and your lip trembles as you slowly slide your hands from his hair. 

     “I’m sorry,” you mumble. “I’m sorry, Yunho, I-”

     He grabs your hands and keeps them there, stopping their retreat. He shakes his head quickly. “No, it’s okay,” he says. “It’s okay, Y/n, I came for you. I wanted to promise you that I would and- and I wanted to help you, but I couldn’t say anything, but now I can. I would have followed you even if you never came back.” He nods, gazing into your wide, tear-filled eyes. “Just don’t go, please. Please, don’t go. Stay here, a-nd we’ll get help, and we’ll be o-okay.” 

     You nod immediately, and his hands slowly slip from yours, a soft sigh leaving his lips. 

     He looks away, a deep blush on his blood-splattered cheeks. “Thank you,” he mumbles, a small, relieved smile shyly spreading on his lips.

     The change piled on the phone, a kind gesture by the locals, trembles as he picks them up one by one. He takes a shaky breath as he finally brings the phone to his ear. It clicks softly as the other person picks up. “Hyung…”

  You wait in an alleyway. It’s dark, the only light flickering above your heads. You’re tucked close together, your face nuzzled into the side of his neck. It’s freezing, but you have nothing but the heat of your bodies to keep you warm. His friend is coming quickly, but it’s been an hour at least. You’re both shivering, breathing the same air, holding each other close. Until the alley lights up, and a car screeches to a halt a bit away. You both glance up, eyes wide and hopeful. 

     “Yunho!” a man shouts, stumbling out of the car. He rushes over to you as Yunho slowly helps you to your feet.      

     “Yunho, I’m gonna kill you!” another man, a lighter voice, screams as he jumps out of the other side. 

     They both run, tears streaming down their cheeks as they collide with their friend. Yunho stumbles against the wall. The tinier one holds him so tightly, placing kisses all over his face as he sobs. The taller one’s eyes are wide, wiping the blood from Yunho’s cheeks, bombarding him with questions. 

     Yunho holds you close against him, unforgotten, even as they don’t even notice you at first. 

     “Get in the car quickly,” the taller one urges, pushing the both of you gently toward the vehicle. “What’s your name, sweety?” he asks, voice low and comforting to your frozen ears. 

     “Y/n,” you say, voice trembling. 

     “I’m Seonghwa,” he says softly. “This is Wooyoung.” He asks you no questions, and you’re so grateful. You just want to be warm. 

     The car is so toasty, the seats a heater themselves as you sit in its sanctuary. You want to melt into them, hardly registering as Wooyoung buckles you in before quickly getting into the front seat. You close your eyes, sighing in relief. Finally, out of the cold, out of danger, with your puppy. Everything is alright. 

     “Yunho,” Seonghwa’s deep voice softly begins, “what happened?”

     He takes a moment to gather his thoughts, taking a slow breath. “I woke up in a cell,” he says, and your heart aches. So they take everyone in their sleep. “They put a muzzle on me a-nd cuffed my hands.” He bites his lip. “And they gave me shots every day.”

     “What the fuck?!” Wooyoung shouts, turning back in horror. “They fucking drugged you?! What were they for?! Who the fuck are they?!”

     “I don’t know,” Yunho groans. “But my body feels so weird now.” You watch as he swallows hard. “I get aggressive and weirdly strong sometimes… How long was I gone?” 

     It’s silent for a long moment “About four months,” Seonghwa says. He grips the steering wheel hard, his knuckles growing white. “ATEEZ is on hiatus. Your disappearance became public after the first month.”

     “ATEEZ…?” you mumble to yourself.

     “It’s on the news daily. They haven’t closed the case,” Wooyoung says. “Though they’re close to. Fuck, I’m so glad you’re okay. We’ll go to the police and call everyone over.”

     Yunho has such a relieved, happy smile on his face, lightening his features so nicely. He’s leaning his head on the seat, his hand gently touching yours as the car silently drives through the city streets. 

     “How did you and Y/n meet?” Seonghwa asks curiously.

     “She was in the cell next to mine. We couldn’t talk or anything, but we, like, sang or.. hummed to each other… and stuff…” His voice trails off as he looks out the window with a deep blush trailing from the tip of his nose to his ears. 

     “Wow!” Wooyoung’s exasperated sound turns to a loud laugh. “You’re truly an idol, Jeong Yunho!” 

     You gasp, and his face turns deeper into the window. “You’re an idol?”

     He nods. 

     You’re about to freak out, but Wooyoung changes the topic quickly. 

     “By the way, Y/n, what uh.. are you covered in? Like, what is all that?” 

     You look down at your bare arms and almost gag at the dried, sticky goo all over your skin. You forgot all about it. 

     “I wish I knew,” you mumble. 

     “Hyung, can you take us to the dorms first? So we can get clothes and showers please,” Yunho asks, and Seonghwa nods through the mirror, smiling sweetly. 

       “Should I call a manager?” Seonghwa asks as Yunho guides you through the apartment. “Does she need he-?”

     “No,” he interrupts, and you all wince, pausing at the bite in the word. His expression is scrunched, stern, mean, but it softens quickly. “No, we’ll be okay, Hyung, thank you.”

     “We’ll pick you up in the mor-!”

     The door was closed before you could even register being dragged gently into a room. Yunho’s breath is a bit uneven. Is he feeling sick? Maybe overwhelmed? He’s looking around the room a bit frantically. Everything is nice and clean, you note. Maybe his friends… or members took care of the room while he was gone. Yunho brings you to his bed and sits you down with a reassuring smile, but it twitches softly. 

     “Yunho,” you mumble, and he pauses to gaze into your confused eyes. “Are you okay?”

     He nods. “I’m okay,” he says softly. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

     He starts to walk away, but you reach out and take hold of his fingers, and he stops. “Where are you going?” you ask, gazing shyly at him. He lets a giddy smile stretch his lips. 

     “I’m going to start the shower,” he says, and you hesitantly let go of him. “You can wash first, but wait here while I get it ready.”

     “Will…” you swallow hard, staring down at your sticky hands with flushed cheeks. “Will you go with me?” His eyes are hooded, gazing at you as you tug at his shirt draped over you. “I need help getting it all off of me, and…” You lift the shirt just enough for the metal of the belt to peak out.

     “Of course, I’ll go with you,” he breathes, staring at what you’ve exposed with a heavy breath. He gently tilts your chin, his thin eyes gazing at your plump lips as he runs his thumb over them gently. He bends down, his warm breath meeting yours. He presses a soft kiss to your lips before pulling away suddenly and bringing you to your feet. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

     The water fills the bathroom with a soft steam, but he makes sure you feel it so it’s not too hot. You’ve never had a warm shower before. You’ve never showered with another person, let alone your favorite person. You already know it’ll be your new favorite thing. 

     Yunho strips behind you as you’re testing the water with your hand. You hear his clothes drop to the floor, but you don’t turn around, until his fingers are tugging lightly at the shirt on your shoulders.

     “Do you want to keep this on for now, Y/n?” he asks, and you shiver at the low sound of his voice as he says your name. It’s sensual, weirdly erotic, even though it’s just your name. You shake your head. “You don’t have to take it off. We can clean you with it on.” 

     “No,” you mumble, turning around to face him. You keep your gaze high, watching his gentle eyes with flushed cheeks. His ears are red, the tips so bright. “You can take it off.” His eyes twitch as they lower to the top. They seem to be growing less big, less shy, and a little darker.

     His fingers slip under the shirt, grazing your skin. It’s soft in some places, sticky in others. You can’t wait to feel him against you once you're clean and untarnished from that place. You want him to rewrite everything with his hands. Make you forget. Make you his own. 

     He slides them higher, and you slowly lift your arms with his subtle command. The shirt falls to the floor, and he groans softly as he gazes at your chest, your nipples erect from the sudden chill. 

     He guides you quickly into the shower, and the warm stream feels like heaven on your shivering skin. You’re covered in little bumps as you try to drown every inch of your body in its warmth. Yunho watches as you sigh under the water, loving how it slips from your hair to your shoulders to your hands. Every part of you is beautiful. He wants to feel every inch, every crevice. He just needs that fucking metal torn from your hips first. But he can be patient. If he breaks it now, he won’t be able to control himself. 

     So, as he joins you under the stream, he distracts his thoughts with your happy little smile, indulging himself with his own. You’re soaked, and he can’t help but gently push your dripping hair from your forehead, revealing your squinted, pretty eyes, big and shining just for him. 

     “It’s gonna feel so good once you’re all soft and fluffy,” he says. The goo from the tank is softening and melting in the water. You let Yunho scrub you softly, your hair first, making it smooth and clean, your arms next. He’s focused, cleaning every speck thoroughly until your skin is perfect. Your legs are next, from your thighs to your feet, he kisses softly as he cleans, and it sends little jolts of flutters to your stomach… and to your core. You keep your eyes locked on his hair as it rubs against your clean skin slowly with his careful motions. He turns you around, and your eyes meet the tiled wall. He gently moves your hair as he cleans your back. It feels so nice, therapeutic, and it’s making you relaxed, as if he could take care of you forever, and you would entrust yourself completely to him. 

     “Here, love,” he whispers, handing you the loofah. “Do you want to clean your front?” 

     You blush as you gaze down at your breasts. They would fit so nicely in his hands, the soft scratch of the loofah teasing your nipples. Your eyes grow wide as you quickly shake away your thoughts.

     “Would you feel more comfortable?”

     You could melt at the warmth of his heart. He’s the sweetest thing you’ll ever know. 

     “No,” you breathe, slowly taking his hand and guiding it to your chest. “I need your help here too,” you whisper.

     A soft chuckle meets your ear, and you shiver as his arms wrap around you, pulling your back to his chest. “Is that right?” he hums, gently caressing your skin just under your breasts. 

     He runs the loofah over your nipples, and you bite your lip at the soft scratch. You watch as his thumb gently rubs the soap into your chest, squishing the flesh just barely, teasing both you and him as he watches every twitch of your body. He cleans your stomach, his fingers swiping lightly at the edge of the belt, and you whine. 

     “Does my princess need help here too?” he asks, and your heart flutters at the name. You nod, biting your lip hard as you watch his long fingers drape over your stomach. They cover you completely, and you practically whimper at the sight alone. “Hmm?” he hums, and you nod again. “Come on, Y/n,” he whispers, his fingers sliding between your breasts to your throat, just gently, just barely wrapping around you there. You tremble, not in fear, but in bliss. They’re hot and smooth against you, dangerous yet perfectly safe as he presses a soft kiss to your jaw. “What does my princess need?”

     “Here,” you gasp, grasping the belt. It doesn’t budge, the lock clattering against you as you hold it tightly. “Please, I need it off. I need you h-here, Yunho…”

     “Good girl,” he groans, his hand leaving your throat and grabbing the lock. With a single tug, it's gone, thrown onto the floor, and the belt follows. You feel something hot spill down your thighs, and you can’t tell if it’s the water or the desperate state he has you in, but it doesn’t matter as his fingers dip into your folds, and you melt into his chest, your body trembling as he runs his finger through your heat with a warm breath at your ear. “It’s messy down here,” he hums, his voice low, a soft growl against your skin. “Were you thinking naughty thoughts?” 

     You don’t even try to deny it, nodding as your hands travel up your body, grinding your heat against his hand. 

     “No,” he scolds, taking away all pressure against you as he places your hands at your sides. “We can’t make more of a mess, Y/n,” he warns quietly, caressing your inner thigh with his teasing fingers. You can’t handle all of his teasing, though. You’re biting your lip, your cheeks hot and heat clenching around nothing. 

     “Yunho,” you whimper, “sh-shouldn’t you also clean your body?” His hold slowly loosens on you, and you turn around, gazing at the small smear of blood on his cheek, the scratch on his neck, and the little scratches of red throughout his body. “I’ll help you.”

     You go to take the loofah, but he drops it to the floor, eyes locked on yours. “Use your hands.”

     His skin is already so soft, so perfect, as you rub the soap along his body, from his neck, behind his pink ears, to his shoulders, broad and higher than your eyes. He’s so big, even bigger now as you clean every inch of his skin. Your fingers pass over his chest, and he sighs. You feel his heartbeat, fast like yours, and… you swallow hard as your arm bumps against his hardness, moving quickly along, but he tilts his head, lifting a brow curiously.

     “That’s not very thorough,” he says, and you avoid his gaze as you finish scrubbing his arms, working hard with two hands.

     “Sh-should I help you?” you ask, finally bringing your eyes to meet his. His eyes are hooded, staring at your body as you work so close to him. “Yunho?” He hears you now, bringing his eyes to yours. Your hand slowly travels, soap bubbling along his skin as you gently wrap your fingers around him. He twitches in your hand, his eyes snapping to your touch. “Look how messy it is,” you breathe, your voice trembling as you watch precum bead at the tip. He’s so big, just like the rest of him, your fingers almost touching around its pretty base. You stroke it once, and he bites back a moan as he stops your hand quickly. 

     “Y-”

     “You’re right,” you sigh, removing your hand. The water washes away the soap, and it twitches without your touch, painfully hard now that he had a taste of your touch. “I should be more thorough.”

     You drop to your knees, and he lets out a low growl as he shakes his head. His hand grips your hair quickly, a light sensation as the stream runs down your back. 

     “Look at you,” he huffs, “so eager to please.”

     “I’m just returning the favor,” you mumble, tilting your head as you take his cock in your hand, “puppy.”

     The first fat lick from the base to the tip has him shivering. You think back on the things the guards would talk about in the hallway, learning as you go what feels good for him. You don’t tell him how you learned it all. He might get too jealous, but he seems to love the feeling of your tongue.

     His brows lift as he bites his lip in pleasure. He leans his head against the wall as you put the tip against your lips, offering a soft kiss, gazing up at him to watch each time he loses his control and grips your hair a little tighter, rolls his eyes back slightly, his hips twitching as you slowly take him in your mouth. He’s so heavy on your tongue, but the feeling is so nice. It’s comforting, watching him breathe heavily as your warmth surrounds him. 

     “Princess,” he groans, gently caressing your cheek as he holds you there, halfway on his cock. “This look suits you,” he breathes, “on your knees, stuffed with my cock. Does it taste good, baby?” You hum, and his head falls forward with a low groan. “Make sure i-it’s clean.” He bites his lip, hardly able to speak as he lets you move again, and the soft, warm velvet of your mouth runs along his length perfectly. It’s tight, so fucking tight. He can’t take his eyes off of you as your eyes unfocus, blissed out by the feeling of his cock stuffing your perfect mouth. Your lips are puffy, so cute around him. He can hardly contain his hips as he lets you go at your teasingly slow pace. He wants to fuck your mouth hard, but he absolutely won’t. Fuck, but he wants to. 

     “Can you go faster for me, Y/n?” he mumbles, slowly guiding you down his length. You gag as the tip hits your throat, your warmth constricting around him. It’s uncomfortable, but you want to please him, want to feel him twitching in you, moaning as you pleasure him. “That’s it,” he breathes. “Good job, baby, deeper. Fuck~” He lets out a long moan, blessing your ears as you relax your throat and force your nose to his stomach. “Baby, what a good girl. Fuck… ngh… so g-ood..mm... Keep going… shit..”   

     You go faster, but his grip tightens on your hair, controlling your movement as he starts to meet your mouth halfway. He’s slowly fucking your mouth, suppressing the need to thrust deeper and deeper, pushing you along his cock with each thrust. His voice is getting louder, his thrusts sloppier. He stops.

     “P-princess,” he breathes, slowly pulling you away by your hair. You suck lightly on his tip as he leaves your lips, and he curses softly, wanting nothing more than to keep you stuffed full. He stops moving as he sees his precum spread over your lips, reaching out and dragging his thumb across them to clean it up. “You keep making a mess,” he mumbles, bringing his thumb to his lips and licking it clean, gazing at you as you grow hotter at the sight. 

     “Why did you make me stop?” you whine, placing your hands on the ground to keep them from touching him again. “You feel so good in me,” you breathe, licking your lips as you stare eagerly at his dripping cock. “And taste s-”

     “Get up,” he growls, and you’re quick to scramble to your feet. “I just want to feel good together,” he admits, pushing you against the wall and stopping the water. The room goes silent, leaving only your heavy pants to be heard. “Once I saw you,” he mumbles, “walk by my cell, all I’ve wanted to do was see you like this. I know it’s so bad of me, but I want to make you feel good. I want to feel good with you.”

     “Me too,” you whimper. “I was so jealous when you felt good without me.” He smiles wide, looking away guiltily.

     His hands gently part your legs, lifting one and bringing his hips close to yours. You feel his cock rub lightly against your folds, and you let out a shaky breath.

     “I’ll make it up to you.”

     You haven’t felt such a raw sensation before, his hardness rubbing against you. The slide is so lewd, sticky and loud, echoing throughout the bathroom. His hand holds his cock against your folds as he thrusts against you. It rubs against your clit, back and forth, sending a wave of pleasure through your body. You whimper, clutching his shoulders as he thrusts fast. His grunts are more like low growls with each thrust forward. It feels amazing, your voice hardly suppressed by the hard bite you have on your lip. 

     “You’re so wet,” he groans. “Making a mess when I just cleaned you up.” You whimper, rubbing your pussy against him hard as you feel the pleasure building. Your eyes are shaking, your lips leaving soft kisses against his shoulder, unsure of what else to do to distract yourself from losing your mind in pleasure. “Such a bad girl,” he growls, and you let out a soft sob as he pushes you hard against the wall, your head falling back. He kisses your chin as your head falls limp against the wall with a soft whimper leaving your lips. His teeth graze your skin, sinking down only lightly as his grunts grow to soft moans. He trails his kisses, sloppy and wet, to your neck. His hair tickles your skin, a soft contrast to the deep bite he marks into your neck.

     “Fu-uck~!” you choke, your orgasm approaching fast. This isn’t right. No, no, it’s not enough. “Yunho, please,” you whimper as he kisses away the pain in your skin. “Please, fuck, please put it in.. ngh~”

     He shakes his head. “Don’t say that,” he pants, biting his lip as he keeps his head buried in your neck. “Be good.”

     “Please,” you sob, feeling frustrated tears build quickly. “I need you inside, Yunnie, please, fuck me~ I need it so bad.” He kisses your neck with soft growls leaving his lips with each slide against your pussy. “Please, ngh, please, puppy!” 

     “I d-don’t want to hurt you, baby,” he says softly, biting his lip as he grips your body tight to gain some control over his thoughts. “I’ll m-make love to you nice, but not r-right now. I’ll hurt you.”

     Your mind flickers to the shots he talked about, how they make him feel. Tears fall from your eyes. They’re sad, frustrated, needy. You’re so overwhelmed. You need him to stuff you full. You need him to thrust hard and deep. Fuck, he’s so big. He’d rub so nicely against your walls. You want to feel him lose control. You know he won’t hurt you. Even if he does, you don’t care. 

     “Yunho, fuck me,” you pant, trying to steady your trembling voice. “I can take it. I just need it so bad. P-please, puppy, fuck me.”

     He pulls his head away quickly, dropping your leg as he glares at you, his pupils blown, his eyes heavy and hooded. As he tilts his head you see the veins bulging through his skin, his grip on you trembling as he grits his teeth. “You want me to fuck you?” he asks, voice strained. You nod eagerly. “And you think you can take it?”

     “Yes,” you whine, “I can take it. I promise, I’ll be good. Please~”

     He grabs your arm, pulling you roughly out of the shower. You’re both dripping as he rushes to his bedroom, pushing you onto the bed. He climbs over you, glaring down at you as he spreads your legs wide, sitting between them. His cock is so fucking hard, twitching against your stomach, but he forces your eyes back on his with a rough hand on your chin.

     “Every night I imagined what it would feel like deep inside you,” he growls, his hand pressing down on your stomach lightly. “What your face would look like, how your pussy would clench around me.” He scoffs. “You think that night was the only night?” Your eyes widen a little, a rush of slick wetting your folds as you listen to his every word. “Every. Fucking. Night.”

     Fuck… You whimper, biting your lip hard at the thought. 

     “All I had was your voice, but now…” He licks his lips, looking from your twitching pussy to your flushed cheeks. He gently runs his thumb along your cheek. “You think you can take it?”

     You nod quickly, but your mind is spinning so fucking fast. How dirty. Your puppy is so dirty… Making himself feel good, imagining you every night, while your hands were tied, and all you could do was imagine him, growing needy and desperate without any way to relieve yourself. 

     “Fuck me.”

     He doesn’t move his cock, his fingers plunging deep into your core. You’re wide open, your pussy drooling for him. He groans, his lips twitching into a satisfied smile as he finally lines his cock up to your folds. Without warning, his eyes, so dark, so daring, locked with yours, he thrusts in. It only goes about halfway, but your back arches with a long, pathetic moan. 

     “That’s right,” he pants, pushing further. His hair is wavy and damp in front of his eyes, but they don't look away for a second. They’re desperate to see every little twitch of your features as you take his cock like a good fucking girl. “Is this what you want, Y/n? Can you take it?”

     You nod, feeling hot tears stream down your face as he bottoms out.

     “Hmm?” he hums, rolling his lips just slightly against your quivering hole. You sob, overwhelmed with pleasure as his pelvis grinds against your clit. 

     “Yes, yes, fuuuck, yes, Yunnie, please keep going!” you finally choke out, reaching for his neck and pulling him into a searing kiss. His hips stutter as he carefully starts to move. You suck on his tongue, drinking him as you move desperately against his lips, grinding your hips along with each hesitant thrust. “Faster,” you pant. “More, baby, come one.”

     You pull hard on his hair as his hips slam against yours just once, forcing a moan from your lips. He groans into your mouth, loving your reaction. He moves faster, harder, thrusting into your heat until it's all he can feel. Your lips stop moving, just resting against each other as your eyes roll back, your vision blurry with how harshly your body is used by him. He grabs your hips and slams them against his thrusts, harder and faster, drowning in your moans and whines. He can’t get enough. 

     “Y/n,” he pants, kissing your cheek sloppily as he rolls his hips, rubbing hard against your clit with the new, slower angle. “Fuck, princess, bite me,” he whimpers. “Bite me.”

     He presents you his neck, his moans muffled by the pillow. You’re too far gone to register his words for a while, deep in the drug that he’s feeding you with each delicious thrust. But your kisses to his neck come naturally, and his words register when you hear a pathetic whine from his lips. You graze your teeth against his skin, and his hips stutter, slowing before getting harder and faster, rough but without much rhythm. 

     You bite him hard, and he sobs into the pillow, grabbing your hips and digging his nails into your flesh. You’re loving every fucking sensation, his moans, right beside your blessed ears, his cock pistoning into you, his body draped over you, and his hands gripping your body like there’s nothing else he could ever dream of holding.

     Your orgasm is approaching fast, and you can hardly grasp your mind, just drowning in Yunho. He lifts his head, his moans growing in pitch and volume.

     “I’m so close,” he sobs, and you focus your eyes just enough to see his trembling lips, his flushed cheeks, and his eyes, streaming tears as he thrusts desperately. 

     It makes you cum instantly, your back arching as your walls clench around him hard, creaming on his cock without warning. Your eyes roll back hard, your vision turning white as he whimpers and sobs, releasing thick ropes of his cum deep inside. He rides out both of your highs, your moans and gasps harmonizing in the silent room. You force your eyes to stay open to watch his features blank out in complete bliss, cumming long and hard surrounded by your perfect, soaked pussy. His head falls forward as soon as he stops cumming, his cock twitching sensitively, keeping you stuffed full with his cum. 

     You hold his head to your neck as satisfied tears drip onto the pillow beneath you. His hair is almost dry by now, fluffy against your trembling fingers. He stays there for a long time, sniffling into your neck as you gently stroke his hair, something you’d wanted to do since seeing how pretty and fluffy it was in that cell. 

     He’s holding you so tight, his arms wrapped around you completely, his member still buried inside. He’s sobbing, and you close your eyes tight, holding him just as close, not saying a word until he can cry properly, like he deserves. 

     “You’re so warm,” he cries, and you smile against his head, a tear slipping down your own cheek. “How could they torture you for so long, and you’re still so warm? How could they do that to you?” 

     “You kept me warm,” you whisper, afraid your voice would break if it’s any louder. “You saved me in more ways than you think.”

     He holds you closer, close enough to feel his heart beat, to have to affect your own, have them sink and calm and soothe together. He sighs against your neck, his breath shaky but tears slowing.

     “I’ll keep you warm forever.” 

       “Seonghwa-Hyung will bring us to the police in the morning,” Yunho says as he checks his phone. You’re wearing his clothes, big and comfy, as you lounge on his blue, squishy bed. It feels just like him, fluffy and perfect for the shape of you. You could melt into it and sleep forever. You’ve never felt something so soft. Except for him, of course. 

     You look over to make him come snuggle with you, but he isn’t where your eyes left him. You frown. “Yunho?” He doesn’t answer. Maybe he went to the bathroom? Or maybe he went to talk with someone? You pout, laying back in bed. But something feels wrong. You sit up. “Yunho?” you call out again. Still no answer. You get up quickly and go to the door. Peaking out into the hallway, it’s dark and silent. No one’s there. This is freaky. Where could he have gone? You turn around, closing your eyes for a long moment. It’s okay. Maybe he went to get some water. 

     “Yunho?” you gasp, your eyes shooting open as you lunge forward. Your legs are wrapped tightly in a thick blanket, the room around you dark, quiet, cold, without him. He’s gone. He’s… The scent here is familiar. Something distant which you haven’t smelled in a long, long time. 

     The door creaks open, and a slither of light shines against the walls. “Y/n, baby, are you alright?” Mom. Her face is masked with gentle concern, but you can’t answer, staring in confusion, in silence. “Did you have a bad dream?” she asks, and you tilt your head. A bad dream?

     “A dream…?” You gasp. What’s with your voice? You look around again. The walls are covered in posters, pink and purple and black and… colors surround you. The cell, so grey… the… what… the dream… What was it about? “I don’t remember,” you whisper. 

     “It’s okay, baby,” she coos, stepping into the room. Her dent on the bed makes you lean toward her, your head falling to her shoulder, that scent of her perfume, so familiar. “It was just a dream, whatever it was.” 

     You sigh, letting your body melt into her. Yeah, it was all just a dream. It just feels like you haven’t been in her arms forever. 

       For ten years, your life seems so… unfamiliar, as if every moment you spend growing… isn’t truly happening. Every spoken word echoes, every touch vibrates softly as if it isn’t supposed to happen, and you grow used to it, but you never shake that feeling that something is utterly wrong… something is missing. Or someone. 

     Because you dream almost every night the same dream, and you’ve never told anyone, but somehow, this dream feels more real than life ever does. It started that night when you were ten. And it never went away. You’re always brought back to the darkness. You don’t understand it. You can’t see, you can’t speak, but you’re anything but lonely. You have a friend. 

     He sings to you. Through this wall in the darkness. Who is he? Why is he here? Is he stuck in this dream, just like you? But you can never ask him. 

       “I’m telling you, it’s all real,” you whine, tugging on your friend’s sleeve as she types away at her computer. 

     “You’re crazy, Y/n,” she giggles. “Even if you’ve had the same dream for fifteen years, there’s no way it’s real. You're crazy.”

     You roll your eyes. “I’m crazy? You’re fighting teenagers for a ticket, thinking an idol is gonna fall in love with you,” you laugh, but she eyes you with puckered lips, clearly offended. 

     “I could pull them,” she huffs. 

     “Uh huh.”

     “Anyway, you’re coming with me,” she says, zoning back in on the computer.

     You quirk a brow. “I don’t have that kind of money.”

     “Please,” she scoffs. “I’m paying for your ticket. In return, you have to drive me there.”

     “Whaaaat?” you groan, letting your head fall dramatically to her bed, melting into it with a deep frown. “How far away is it? Can’t you just drive yourself?”

     “It’s, like, two hours away.”

     “Whaaaat…”

     “Stop complaining,” she grumbles. “You’ll get a free- fuck, shhhh, it’s starting. Be silent.”

     You furrow your brows, burying your head into her pillow with a long, deep sigh. Whatever. It’s not like you have anything better to do. 

         You’ve heard of ATEEZ, but you’ve never actually ventured into their music. Standing outside the venue with a squirming, dolled-up bestie, you’re not really looking forward to it. She scored barricade seats, right up on these idols. It's going to be so embarrassing. You should have just agreed to drive her without getting a ticket. But… you’ll make the most of it and have fun with her.

     To say you get a weird feeling when you walk inside, though, is an understatement. You get immediate chills, pausing in your tracks as you look around. Something isn’t right. Or it is. Whatever it is, it’s weird, and you want to get out of there. The show hasn’t even started. 

     Your seats truly are right up at the stage. You’d be able to see every detail of the performance from here… every drop of sweat, every twitch of a lip, every step in the dance. 

     “I’ll be back. Bathroom,” you whisper, getting up from your seat. 

     “Hurry…” she whines. “Soundcheck starts soon. I have to introduce you to my man.” You roll your eyes before walking slowly toward the ladies room. You’ll be back in time. 

     But the uneasy feeling from earlier is growing stronger, and it’s making you nauseous. You thought it would be a quick trip to the ladies’ room, but you’re bent in two, sitting on the toilet seat, fully clothed, sweating and panting as you try to catch your breath. What the fuck is going on? Your mind is spinning around and around, only stopping when it gives you a moment’s witness of that familiar darkness. You hear the crowd erupt. The group must be on stage. They must be singing, greeting the crowd. You hear them, but you can’t hear anything as your ears tune in on his voice in that darkness, his hums which were your only company as you dreamed each night. Why are you suddenly hearing him? He’s just from your fucking dream. You grab your ears, groaning as you try to focus on the crowd, on the singing. 

     There’s a knock on your stall door, and you open it hesitantly. Knowing by the little black Mary Janes that it’s your girl.

     “Y/n,” she gasps, “Are you okay?” She kneels in front of you, gently stroking your cheek, and you can finally calm down, taking slow breaths. You realize the crowd is quiet, and the singing is over. 

     “Sorry,” you sigh, “I missed soundcheck. Had a huge-”

     She playfully slaps your cheek, standing up with a groan. “Gross,” she giggles.

     The uneasy feeling is gone for the next few hours as you relax and eat with her until the show starts. All is well, all is good. And you have a lot of fun in the end. 

     The lights dim, and the music starts, and you quickly regain that weird feeling. The members are wearing cloaks. You can’t see their faces, only watch as the cloth flows with their movement. It’s freaky. It’s cool. Even as they perform a few songs, you don’t see their features clearly until they begin their little solo dances. That’s when you really feel weird. Your heart is racing in anticipation. For what? Maybe you’re so invested into the show, but when three members dance around, collapsing at different sides of the stage, you’re met with big, wide, horrified eyes, and you realize exactly why.

     Your knees grow weak, your pupils trembling. He’s staring right at you; he knows too. Everything returns to you. Every moment, every word, every touch. 

     You’re both frozen there, just a few feet away. His hand trembles as he reaches out… for you. He reaches out, maybe he can grasp you. Maybe he can touch you. Maybe he can hold you close because why were you suddenly taken from him? Why were you suddenly sent back, separated? 

     His arms are grabbed, and he’s pulled away, aggressively taken away from you. You shout his name, but it’s drowned by the crowd, by the music. 

     A tear slips down your cheek. How could you forget everything? How could you… You think back on the last fifteen years, how you awoke that morning, just a child again, oblivious, memory wiped, living knowing something wasn’t right, something was missing. And there it is. Yunho.

     You sit down, bringing your head to your lap as tears fall from your eyes. Never have you betrayed yourself so horribly, betrayed him so unfairly. How could you leave him like that when you had promised him you would always return, that you would never leave him?

     You don’t watch the rest of the show. You can’t lift your eyes from your lap. You can’t. 

     You remember everything.  

           “Y/n, it’s really okay if you’re not up to it,” she insists, rubbing your arms gently as you eye the crowd moving toward the last event. “You’re not feeling well.”

     “No,” you mumble. “I need to go.”

    She huffs a laugh. “Were you so entranced by their performance? Did they woo you?” She snickers as if she told a joke, but you don’t get it. Rolling her eyes, she urges you forward. “Let’s go get a good spot then.”

     You’ve calmed down by now. You realize it wasn’t a dream at all. It was all real, and, by the look on his face, without a doubt, he remembers too. You need to see him again. Even if… now he wants nothing to do with you, you need to see him again. 

     You’re close to the front but hidden by other fans for the most part. They don’t come out for a while, and you’re a little nervous. You’re a lot nervous, playing with the fabric on your girl’s top. She doesn’t mind, too deep in her thoughts, probably delusional, romantic. 

     And then they come out. And your eyes search frantically for them, but there’s a lot of people blocking your view. It’s frustrating, but you have to be patient. The members go around and stop by your section, smiling, taking pictures, signing, talking. It’s cute, how they interact with their fans.

     You recognize two of them. Seonghwa looks just like he did back then, or, maybe this is around the same time as back then. Wooyoung is snappy and loud, like each person he talks to is another close friend. You recognize them, know them. It’s weird… to see more of that dream appear in front of you. 

     And him. Yunho appears, looking anxiously around as he signs and talks and smiles. He’s not paying attention to any of it, but you can tell he is. You smile, finally able to see him through the small crowd. He’s just like you remember. As his eyes find yours again, they give you that look, like you’re the only thing they’ve ever been looking for, just like in his cell, in the auditorium, and on the stage. 

     He nearly stumbles as he comes closer, eyes never leaving yours. He doesn’t look scared like he did on the stage, and neither do you. There’s a deep understanding in your gazes now. 

     Your friend’s squealing beside you, shaking your arm as he stops just a few feet away. He looks around, head low. He knows there are cameras lining the crowd. All eyes are on him. He can’t say anything, and neither can you. You want to reach out, want to touch him, see if he’s real.

     “Tiny~” He smiles wide, eyes squinting cutely, but you can see a soft layer of tears hiding there. “Do you want a selfie?” He points to your phone, held tightly in your hand. You hesitantly nod, and he motions you closer. The crowd parts a bit, and you can walk forward. He takes your phone, his fingers grazing yours, and you could melt at how warm he is, how soft he is. You can smell him as he motions you closer and closer. His cheek bumps gently against yours as he holds the camera up. “Smile, Y/n,” he whispers, and your cheeks tint a deep pink as you see yourself in the camera, listen to his words, hear your name, and feel him around you. His hand curls at your opposite cheek, like a heart, and your face completes it. 

     He takes at least four pictures, all the same, but he stays there for so long, he doesn’t want to leave. As he pulls away, so slowly, and he hands you your phone, you feel a piece of paper slip into your palm. His eyes stay gazing into yours for only a moment longer before the manager beside him urges him to move on, and he’s pulled away.

     You don’t look down at the paper. You don’t make it known. Not even to your friend, who’s tugging on your sleeve and fangirling over the whole thing, practically begging to see the photos. You carefully put the paper in your pocket with a hidden, shy smile.

       “Stay. I arranged a driver for your friend.” How do you explain something like that to her? 

     But before you can even go to tell her, she’s nowhere to be seen. Your phone vibrates and lights up with a message from her. 

     “I’m gonna stay in town for the night. I want to try out the cat cafe!!! You can head back alone.”

     You stare at the message for a long moment. How convenient. 

     You’re interrupted by a clearing of someone’s throat. Startled, you lock eyes with one of the managers and nearly squeak an apology. This is so embarrassing. How do you explain that Yunho is…

     “Come with me,” he says quietly, and you eye him skeptically. “Yunho is backstage.”

     He starts to walk, and your shoulders lose some tension without his glare. It’s replaced with a growing excitement. You bite your lip as you’re guided to the back. It’s busy, and you feel so strange, like you’re not supposed to be here, but you know soon, you can finally see him again. For real, alone, where you can finally talk, and touch, and see, and everything constantly stripped from you. 

     You sigh as he comes into your sight. The door closes behind you, the room silent except for his quick footsteps. Your back hits the door as he pushes his body against you, his lips on yours instantly. You whimper, feeling his fingers run through your hair, stroking you with pure love and relief. His lips are soft but urgent as they move against yours, he breathes your name between fast kisses, and your eyes roll shut, falling deep into the feeling of him. 

     “What happened?” he pants against your lips, gazing into your eyes, forehead resting against yours as he catches his breath. “Where did you go?” His voice breaks, and it squeezes at your heart as your lips tremble into a frown. “Why does no one remember?” he asks, gently caressing your cheek as he holds you just a little closer. “Why were you gone?”

     But he kisses you again, lifting your chin to keep your lips on his. He’s panting against you, his hands sliding down your neck as he feels your delicate body, your soft skin, your light shivers. They rest on your waist, gentle yet big against you, his fingers sliding just slightly under your top. 

     “Please,” he mumbles. “Don’t leave me again.” His jaw clenches as he stares into your eyes, his words growing darker as he becomes used to you back in his arms. “Come home with me.” 

       Yunho’s room is warmer than you remember. Or maybe your desperate breaths as he pins you against the wall are filling the room with a desperate heat quickly. You can tell he’s exhausted from the concert mentally and physically, but he needs to be close to you right now. 

     You walk him to the bed and lay him down. He doesn’t object much, trusting you with himself completely. You climb onto his lap and lean against his chest. He sighs with the warm weight of you, letting you stay there for a long moment. 

     “I dreamed about you,” you whisper, working on the strings of his pants lazily. “Every night.”

     “Me too,” he sighs. “I dreamed about the cell, but I thought I was going crazy.” 

     You giggle. “Me too.” 

     You pull down his sweatpants, leaving him in his briefs. Then, you strip off your own pants. You work on his shirt next. He lets you do as you please, nodding off but keeping his eyes wide just to keep you in his sight.

     “Do you remember everything?” you ask, glancing away as you’re met with his bare chest. You slip off your own shirt, and he looks away too, his ears growing red, just like you remember.

     “Yeah,” he mumbles. “Except… I don’t remember what happened after I found you in the tank… until we were outside and safe,” he says. 

     Your eyes grow wide a little. “Really?” you mumble, and he nods. 

     “How did we get out?” he asks, and you avoid his curious gaze.

     “You broke me out… and we ran away,” you say, which is mostly the truth. He accepts it, smiling as he thinks back at the look on your face as you finally saw the sky for the first time in years.

     You plop down beside him, and he curls into you as you pull the covers over you both. 

     “How do we know something like that won’t happen again?” he asks, bringing you close to his chest.

     You’re silent for a moment. “Even if it does, we’ll find each other no matter what. Even when I couldn’t remember… I knew you were missing. I can’t live without you,” you say, gazing at him as he smiles. 

     “Even so, let’s promise,” he whispers, digging out his hand from the covers to hold out his pinky. “Promise that we’ll never disappear again.”

     You grin, latching your pinky with his, giggling together as you snuggle close and fall asleep.

       For years, you stay by each other’s side. You move into an apartment and change jobs to live in Seoul. You never speak to your mother again. You love your life by his side, perfect and sweet, even if his fans are a bit crazy about your relationship. You don’t mind. Everything is perfect.

     Best of all, you keep your promise to each other… for six years. 

     You don’t feel uneasy… nor warned… nor any different that night as you go to sleep in his arms. 

     And suddenly you can’t move. You can’t speak. You can’t hear.

     Your vision is foggy, your limbs bound in place, floating in a thick fluid. The tank. 

     Oh, fuck, the tank.

     The glass is clear, built around you. It was never shattered. You were never saved. 

     The room is silent. The audience… they’re bones. Bones, melting into the seats. They’re gone, dead. For years, they've been dead. For decades, maybe, and you’ve been here. It was all a lie. You’ve been here. You…

     You hear a faint cry. It’s distant, a truly saddening cry… of a child. 

     Your heart sinks. It slows amidst the sudden chaos of your mind. How long have you been here in this tank? How many… children… have you had? That is… the true use of the tank. 

     Your eyes can hardly move, and it hurts so bad, but you need to look toward the sobs. There’s more. More cries, more children. 

     But you don’t see them when your eyes finally move to your left. Instead you see another tank. Floating, much like you, is Yunho. Your eyes meet, and your heart stops. 

     You were never free. You were never free. You were never free. 

     You were here the whole time, with him, locked in this tank, forced to reproduce. You were never free. And now even your dreams are gone. You have to stay and watch as you live… like this… for how long? How long will it be until you die? Because you just want to die right now. Before you forget everything… You want to die when you can see his eyes and remember it all. 

     You want to die. You want to fucking die. 

     What’s the point? You can’t even kill yourself. You want to die. What’s the fucking point?! What’s the point?! What’s the point?! Die! Why can’t you just die! They can’t give you something and take it away again! And again! They’re fucking with you! They can’t take him away from you again! You'd rather just die! Die! Qhy can’t you just kill yourself?! No fucking way you’re going to live if you can’t have him! You’ll just fucking die!

     Tears are streaming from your eyes… Warm arms are wrapped around you as you sob. Your fists clench his shirt, nails digging into his skin. You feel his hitching breath against your nose, his tears wetting your lashes and mixing with your own. 

     “No,” he sobs, curling into you as he opens his eyes. “No, it’s okay.” His breath is trembling, unsure, but you nod anyway. Fuck, you were so scared. You were so scared. “It’s not real,” he whispers, his lips quivering as his hands grip your body so tight.

     “It’s not real,” you repeat, and he nods quickly. “W-we promised we wouldn’t disappear again,” you whisper, and he nods again. “S-so it can’t be real. It’s okay.”

     Your ears are ringing, heart pounding, but it’s all soothing as you hold him close. If you hold him close enough this time, maybe he won’t disappear. You whisper again and again to each other nonsense, comforting nonsense, just to stay awake as tears softly dampen the pillow beneath your heads. Just to survive the night, you won’t fall asleep, won’t let his eyes leave yours. 

     This is real. 

     You won’t disappear because this is real.

     It’s real.

a/n ~ thank you so much for reading ♡

mwaᯓᡣ𐭩

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[janeyseymour]

Love Languages

Summary: You're the music teacher at Abbott Elementary, and you find that Melissa Schemmenti's love language may be not-so-gentle bullying- in Italian.

WC: ~2.8k

After accepting a music teaching position in one of the rougher areas in the greater Philadelphia area, it’s safe to say that you aren’t quite sure what’s going to be coming your way. Still, you persevere and head into Willard R. Abbott Elementary School’s professional development week with a smile and your bright and sunny disposition. The only way that you think you can make it as a teacher in a less affluent area with harder backgrounds than what you’re used to is to remain as positive as possible.

You quickly learn that there are about two teachers in the school who attempt to stay as positive as you when you walk into the library for your first meeting of the school year: Janine Teagues and Jacob Hill. The rest of the teachers are older and a bit more seasoned- jaded and attuned to the situation that you’re all in. It’s an underfunded school with students who don’t necessarily come from money with a principal who can poorly manage the building at times. 

Still, as the meeting drags on (you feel like you don’t actually know what you’re walking into; most of the presentation has been pictures of Ava during her vacation this summer), you attempt to stay focused. Eventually, the topic shifts into more educational topics, and you take down a few notes despite the fact that benchmarks and other state mandated tests are not a part of your curriculum. And at some point towards the end, the principal introduces you to the rest of the staff.

“She our new music teacher,” Ava tells your new coworkers. “Don’t go scarin’ her off the way you scared off White, you hear?” She actively points at one teacher in particular with her perfectly manicured nails. “Schemmenti, I’m talkin’ to you.”

Your eyes follow the direction of Ava’s hand, and sitting there is a beautiful redhead who looks like she hasn’t been paying attention to these staff meetings for the last seven years. Striking green eyes are rolled, and Schemmenti scoffs.

At lunch, you’re just trying to heat up your meal when you’re practically bombarded by the two younger teachers who still seem to have a childlike wonder to them.

“You should sit with us so we can get to know you!” Janine smiles. She had already introduced herself and Jacob to you earlier in the day, and it’s quite clear she’s taken with your bright, yet somewhat shy, personality.

“And why would she do that, pipsqueak?” you hear a low voice growl. “I thought we had our group pretty filled out- and that was before Greg even wormed his way in.”

Your eyes search for who that voice belongs to, and it’s none other than the redhead from earlier. Damn- it’s sexy the way she speaks.

“Because, Melissa,” Janine gestures wildly. “It’s important that she feels comfortable at this school! I want her to feel just as welcome as I did my first few days here.”

“I didn’t do nothin’ to try to make you feel welcome,” Melissa states. “And I ain’t goin’ out of my way to be nice to someone who’s just going to leave us in a few days anyway.” Then she turns to look at you. “Ain’t that right, newbie?”

“I guess you’ll have to wait and find out,” you quip as the microwave signals that your food is finished. You smile at the group warmly before sighing. “While I do appreciate the invite, I have a few things I still need to set up in my room and get together. Have a nice day though!”

You exit, but not before you hear Melissa grumbling, “She’s just another leccaculo. Ass kisser.”

You aren’t, but you suppose that she doesn’t know you yet, so you let it slide and silently head off to your classroom to pour over lesson plans while you eat your meal.

That’s only the first time she calls you that. As time goes on, she gets more confident and starts insulting you in Italian to your face. The first time she has the courage to call you a leccaculo directly, you have to bite back a laugh. She has no idea you know what she’s saying- you had taken Italian all throughout high school and studied abroad in college.

“I’m not an ass kisser,” you chuckle, and your laughter only grows when emerald eyes widen with realization that you understand her. “But thanks anyway.”

She calls you a myriad of other insults in Italian as the days pass by, whether it be in the staff room or while she’s dropping off or picking her kids up from music. Occasionally, it’s when you have the unfortunate lunch duty, and she does too. And each time she does it, you just roll your eyes playfully and laugh before letting her know you know the translation, refuting her claim, and thanking her.

It almost becomes like a bit of yours- and inside joke to a certain degree. Sure, she calls the others Italian insults from time to time, but yours seem to be almost daily, if not every day. And you’re the only one who actually knows what she’s saying, which makes it all the more hilarious.

It’s not like you really mind either. It’s quite entertaining to you to see that even when she starts to switch to Sicilian slang, you know what she’s saying. It’s keeping the language alive in your mind.

“Don’t you care that she says all that stuff to you?” Janine asks you one day after Melissa has left the staff lounge.

You shrug. “It doesn’t phase me.”

“But you know what she’s saying to you,” the second grade teacher reminds you. “And it’s never nice.”

“I do,” you chuckle. “Listen, I know she’s mean, and she’s rude, but her voice is so lovely. I’d listen to her call me names all day. And I do. Even at home.”

“At home?” Janine gives you a look that tells you she’s clearly confused, but you just shrug her off with a smile. 

“I live like… seven doors down from her. When I go on my walks after school, she’s pulling into her driveway just in time to throw an insult my way. And why should I dwell on it when I know at this point, she doesn’t mean what she’s saying? She just likes speaking her language and having someone who understands what she’s saying.”

And with that, you exit the staff room to head to the bathroom before your whirlwind of an afternoon starts. 

To a degree, you’re right. The fiery Italian second grade teacher loves that she can speak in the language she used to talk in growing up. Someone finally understands what she’s saying. It’s nostalgic. But at this point, Melissa just likes hearing your voice. She likes to see that dumb smirk that you give her as you reveal that you know exactly what she was calling you, before it melts away into that bright smile of yours. Melissa Schemmenti realizes that she just might have some feelings for you.

Once she has that revelation though, she doesn’t change what she does. If anything, she lays them on a little thicker, challenging you to fight her back or tell her she’s gone too far with a few of her insults. But of course, you’re a champion and you can only laugh at some of the insanely creative insults she comes up with in a foreign language.

“You have quite the imagination when it comes to what you choose to say,” you chuckle as she hurls one at you while picking her students up. “I am indeed not… that, but thank you.”

She’s about to say something else while her students wait for her at the corner of the hall, but then Barbara is coming down with her students, and you’re forced to turn your brain back on to work with kindergarteners.

“Well, Miss Schemmenti,” you smirk. “I can’t wait to see what you come up with next.”

“Neither can I, Cagacazzo.” The redhead chuckles.

“Not that either,” you playfully roll your eyes before turning to the kindergarten teacher. “Why, hello Mrs. Howard!”

“Hello dear,” Barbara greets you warmly, a hand stretching out to gently squeeze your arm. “How are you today?”

“I’m wonderful,” you smile. “But I think my day is about to get better, now that I have your kiddos.”

“I do hope they behave for you,” Barb tells you, although she gives a few of her more rowdy students a pointed look.

“They always do,” you assure her sweetly. Only then do you realize that Melissa is still standing there. “Miss Schemmenti? You there?” you tease.

The redhead begins to flounder for words, but Barbara steps in to save her. “Melissa and I were going to chat on our ways back to the classrooms, dear. Don’t mind her.”

In all truth, the second grade teacher just loves how your voice sounds. It’s amazing the way that you can switch from a lower register in your vocals while teasing her and bantering with her before raising your pitch and sounding like an angel to speak with Barbara and her students.

The two head off once you explain to the small class what they’re to do upon entering your classroom and ushering them in. 

The pair is a few paces away when Barbara leans in and quietly whispers, “Girl, you have it bad for Y/N.”

“I do not,” Melissa grumbles her denial as she gestures for her students to continue on down the hallway.

“Don’t act like you don’t,” the kindergarten teacher hums. “I see the way you look at her, mmm, yes.”

“You’re crazy.”

“Not as crazy as you are if you don’t notice that you want to court the music teacher,” Barbara chuckles lowly as she turns into her own classroom.

“Barb!” Melissa rolls her eyes. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, this ain’t Bridgerton!”

“It may not be,” the kindergarten teacher quips. “But I know what my eyes see!”

“Sei pazza,” Melissa calls back as she too enters her room. “Crazy!”

Barbara Howard is a lot of things, but crazy isn’t one of them. And both veteran teachers at the school know it. 

A few weeks pass, and the routine that you find yourself in with the redhead continues on as usual. The routines that you find yourself in with the others soldiers on. Melissa is snarky and hard to read, often times brushing you off. You still allow her to insult you with a smile and a laugh, refuting every name that she calls you. You settle into easy conversation with the others at lunch, always excited to hear what they’re doing in their classrooms that week, or to just converse about whatever could be going on in their minds at that moment.

You find that you quite enjoy having this odd little group as your work family. You’re not quite sure how you managed to weasel yourself into their very tight knit group, but you aren’t complaining. It makes working at Abbott a lot easier than when you were working in a school where homeroom teachers essentially told you that you weren’t a real teacher. How they could treat you like that baffled you then, and it baffles you to this day. You’re just thankful you got out of there and are now being appreciated at your new place of employment.

“Have a nice weekend,” you tell your colleagues as you go to leave the staff room. You smile brightly and wave at them before smirking. “And no, Melissa, I am not whatever you were going to call me this time.”

“Damn, taking my fun away,” the redhead grumbles. “I’ll just save it for when you’re on your walk later.”

You actually don’t see the redhead pulling in while you’re on your daily after school walk to decompress. Her car isn’t in the driveway either, so you know she isn’t home. It’s odd, sure, but once you’ve passed, you don’t think much else of it.

The weekend is here, and you thank goodness for that. The kids have been amped up what with the holiday season about to kick off with Halloween before leading into November and December. 

Once you return from your walk, you’re showered and changed into sweatpants, takeout is ordered and eaten; you’ve allowed yourself to indulge after the hectic week. You have no plans other than to curl up with a glass of wine and a good book. If you drink enough, you may just end up at the keyboard that you have set up, or perhaps you’ll bring out the guitar that sits in the corner of your living room. But you know one thing for sure: you are not leaving the comfort of your own home.

You’re about two-thirds of the way through your small bottle of wine and getting a bit restless laying on the couch with your book. You sigh softly as you put your bookmark in place and stand to head for the keyboard when your phone lights up.

Melissa Schemmenti is calling you? It’s… you glance at the clock on your wall. It’s nearing eleven. Why is she calling you?

“Melissa?” you answer, clearly confused.

“I- I don’t know why I called. Sorry. Have a good night,” the redhead’s voice crackles through the phone. And even though you aren’t with her, and you really have no idea why she’s calling this late at night, you can sense that there’s something off with her. She doesn’t have the same bit that she usually does- she almost sounds… scared?

But before you can react, the call disconnects. You shoot her a text asking if everything is alright, and when five minutes go by without a reply, you run a tired hand over your face before pulling your shoes on.

You’ve never really noticed how eery the area that you reside in is at night. You’re rarely out this late, and when you are, you aren’t walking the streets. Still, you head in the direction of the redhead’s house. It doesn’t take you long. Once you’re at her front door, you take a fortifying breath before knocking gently.

You shouldn’t be shocked when she opens the door wielding a weapon: her precious baseball bat.

“Seriously?” you ask. “I knocked so gently, how could you think someone was trying to hurt you?”

“I never know,” Melissa answers. “I bet you’re an idiota who answers the door without a bat, aren’t you?”

You chuckle softly. “I am not an idiot, but I can say with confidence that I don’t have a baseball bat with me when I open the door.”

“Well, you should,” the redhead counters. “Why are you here?”

“Melissa, you called me at eleven at night sounding terrified and then didn’t answer my text. I do care about you. you know. I wanted to make sure you were okay,” you tell her as she sets down her baseball bat.

Your coworker hums gently. “I thought you were barely tolerating me this whole time. I mean, I’ve seen how you are with the others- and I’m not like that. I can’t be like that, even if I wanted to.”

“I know,” you smile softly. “You’re not easy to know, and you make it hard to like you sometimes. But I’ve always liked a challenge, and sometimes you have to meet people at their own pace.”

“But I didn’t expect you to come all the way out here. I wasn’t thinking; I just woke up scared and calling you was the first thing I could do. You didn’t need to check up on me.” Melissa welcomes you into her house.

“No,” you sigh as you make your way into her house. “But I wanted to. Thank you for letting me in.”

“You’re thanking me for letting you into my house?” the redhead quirks a brow.

You chuckle. “Well, that. But also for letting me in and past your rough exterior. You’re finally starting to meet me halfway.”

The redhead just rolls her eyes. “Just because I called you in a moment of weakness doesn’t mean I don’t still think you’re a barbone.”

“I can’t be a bum,” you smile cheekily. “I have a job, a house, and I came all this way to check on you in the middle of the night.”

“Only an idiota would venture out at eleven at night without a baseball bat,” Melissa counters. “You know I ain’t letting you walk home alone now. So, how about a glass of wine, and maybe a movie before I shove you in my guest room for the night?”

It only occurs to you after you wake up the next morning (on the couch, with Melissa using your chest for a pillow), that she could’ve just driven you home.

Tags

 (and let me know if you want to be included!): @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @sweetcheeksschemmenti @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights @emilynissangtr @squinnchy @dopenightmaretyphoon @emeraldoceansstuff @shinyfaerielights  @blkmxrvel @marvelwomenrule @sarahjohannson @casualfoxwitch @babytakeittothehead @schemmentits

[redeemingvillains]

the new girl (pt.2) - mattheo riddle

summary: you come to find that keeping your situationship with mattheo a secret is harder than you anticipated.

word count: 1.5k

warnings: suggestive content, 18+, please read responsibly my dears.

a/n: dedicated to the brilliant person who thought mattheo should be italian. i am kissing you.

ˋ°•*⁀➷ part one here

Mattheo’s lips glided over your neck, alternating in a pattern of kissing and sucking that had your eyes fluttering closed as his hands wandered over your body.

“How long are we going to keep this a secret, bella?” he murmured against you without ceasing.

“Mmm, why? Aren’t you having fun?” you responded coyly, your own hands moving to untuck his shirt, to run your fingers over the firmness of his abs.

His body was electric for you and his mind wiped completely at the sensation of your touch as he pulled back to take in the vision of you, pinned against the wall, the way your heavily lidded eyes met his, unwavering, and the way you subtly pouted at the loss of contact, if only for a second before he kissed you hungrily.

“F’course I’m having fun” he mumbled against you. “But I wouldn’t mind taking you to my room every once and awhile, as nice as these accommodations are” he said, referring to the broom closet you were squeezed into.

“I got here three weeks ago and I’ve spent nearly every day since like… this” you said breathlessly as his hands wound into your hair, kissing you deeper.

“So?” he said, in the briefest pause.

“So I don’t want people to draw conclusions… I don’t want to get a reputation.”

“And what reputation would that be cara mia, hmm?” he asked as his hands wound down your body.

“That you have good taste?” he prompted, his fingers dancing over the waistline of your skirt.

“That you like a bad boy?” he continued, his voice huskier as his hand slipped beneath your skirt and you could feel the cool metal of his ringed fingers against the inside of your thigh.

Your body shuddered in response. I don’t want people to think I’m…easy you thought, even though you knew you’d never done anything like this with anyone else, but there was something about Mattheo was simply irresistible, eclipsing your every waking thought and you had a sneaking suspicion he felt the same way.

“Maybe we wait—” you started as his fingers brushed against you, exactly where you wanted them and your breath hitched “—a little while longer” you whispered.”

“Whatever you say, principessa” he said before losing himself in you.

Mattheo was so fucking smitten with you he didn’t know what to do with himself.

He loved the thrill of your current… arrangement… how exhilarating it was trying to rile you up and keep you quiet at the same time as you snuck into broom closets, abandoned bathrooms and the deepest corner of the restricted section of the library to be together. You swore to him over and over again that this was totally out of character for you, that you never did anything like this before, and that drove him even crazier, knowing that he brought out a side of you that simply couldn’t get enough of him, especially because he felt the same way.

But despite the heady cloud of lust and adoration that seemed to carry him throughout his day, he couldn’t forget the words his friends had said about you that occasionally echoed in his subconscious.

 “She’s all anyone can talk about”

“I would take a bludger straight to the head for just a taste of that”

His palms curled into fists at the memory until he flexed and released them. His friends knew better than to run their mouths like that now, but he was quickly finding that only left him with the rest of the school to deal with.

In potions he could hear Cedric Diggory and Michael Corner talking about you, how hot you were, debating again if it was true that you had dated professional quidditch players, a question that kept resurfacing in a way that was beginning to bother him. He turned around to glare at them but when they caught his eye, he realized he had nothing to say and no reason to stop them, so instead he had to sit through the rest of the class nearly shaking with fury at their comments.

Then it was his teammates in the locker room before quidditch practice, placing bets on who would be the lucky guy to get with you first. He slammed his locker closed and stormed onto the field.

But it all came to a head when he passed you in the corridor, you breezed by each other, each surrounded by your group of friends and enough students that the burning gaze you exchanged with one another went completely unnoticed, even though he picked up the way you subtly bit your bottom lip at him, a tell he’d come to know as you being incredibly turned on. It took every ounce of his willpower not to throw you over his shoulder right there as you passed by but then a voice reverberated in the hall.

“YN! YN!” it shouted and he turned to see Seamus Finnegan yell at you as you passed him by.

“Want to see my wand, beautiful? It’s solid oak and 12 inches long!” His comment was met with a host of laughs and jeers from other Gryffindors and you rolled your eyes in a way that made it seem like this sort of thing happened to you all the time. Mattheo’s blood was boiling and he realized he was creating a commotion all his own by the way he was standing still and staring at you in the crowded thruway, his face grimaced and the tic on his jaw evident. Your cheeks flushed at the look of fury on his face until one of your girlfriends pulled you away.

That night in the library, you traced your fingers over the ridges of his bruised and battered knuckles before your eyes flickered to his, doe-like and innocent as you batted your eyelashes at him.

“What happened?” you whispered.

“S’nothing” he said, gently pulling his hand from your grasp and moving to cup your face, desperate to touch you, to kiss you.

“Doesn’t look like nothing” you pressed.  

He shook his head, blowing the comment off and moving closer to you until you said, “And what might Mr. Finnegan look like at the moment?”

“Like he’s taking a good, long, fucking nap in the infirmary with a pair of black eyes” Mattheo said, his voice low and rough.

And before you could comment, he added, “And I don’t want to spend another minute with you hearing another bloke’s name on those lips” as he kissed you firmly, seductively and grasped your face in his hands.

And then you were awash with him again, adrift in the sensation you’d come to crave from him, dripping with an air of possessiveness that had you coming apart faster than you had any time before.

You rode the high of Mattheo knocking someone out in your honor for days. The perfect combination of the way he lavished you and equally had such a capacity for violence excited you, thrilled you.

Your mind was drifting in and out of thoughts of him as you re-applied your lipgloss in the bathroom when you heard Pansy Parkinson and Astoria Greengrass chatting a few sinks over.

“Are Nicole and Mattheo still hooking up?” Astoria asked, catching your attention.

“She said he’s been ghosting her” Pansy replied. “Why, you want in on that?” she joked.

“Can’t say I haven’t thought about it, haven’t you? You heard what she said about him.”

“Gods yes” Pansy agreed. “Maybe send him a little pic, you know he can’t resist that.”

They brushed by you and you realized your hands were shaking as you gripped the sink in front of you so tightly your knuckles were white.

That night Mattheo noticed something decidedly different about you, the way you twirled your tongue with his, the way you ran your fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck and sent shivers up his spine, like you were trying to tell him something without words, until finally your hands were on his belt and you pulled back from his lips for just a moment.

“Maybe this doesn’t have to be a secret anymore?” you said quietly.

His heart leapt in his chest, whether at the precarious position of your fingers at the present moment or the words you’d said, he wasn’t entirely sure.

“I’m not complaining, but why the sudden change of heart?” he asked.

You pouted and fidgeted and he realized there was no facial expression you could make that didn’t make him want to do absolutely sinful things to you as he kissed your pouted lips, turning them into a smile.

“Hang on. This doesn’t have anything to do with Nicole and Astoria getting expelled today, does it?" he said, a smirk blossoming on his lips in revelation. "I heard they had a bag of weed and a load of enchanted quills in their rooms.”   

Your eyes glinted as they flickered to his and you tugged him closer to you by his belt, softly biting your bottom lip as you shrugged halfheartedly, daring him to say more.

I fucking love this girl he thought clearly.

“If me spending every night on my knees for you wasn’t clear, cara mia, I am absolutely mental over you. And I’d love nothing more than for every girl in this school to know it, to know that I’m yours. Va bene?”

“Molto bene” you said, drawing the words out against his lips as you enveloped them, the sound of his native language coming from you demolishing him as he pulled you tightly against his chest.

@kenjikishimotoswifey @mattiesgf @sleepiibunniiii @darlingshecried @girllblogging777 @foivetimesacharm @clar2aa @broadwaybaby123 @slytherinscreamqueen @chelawrites @elsie-bells @hisparentsgallerryy @the-sylver-dragon @r-a-c-h-e-l @noodleboyluke @slutfordpr

[the-otherspace]

1/ Which category of alterhumanity do you belong to?

Plural, otherkin, and otherhearted (possibly.)

2/ What/who is/are your type(s)? (if you have any)

Dragon. Not sure what kind. And dromaeosaur.

3/ Do you experience shifts? If so, can you tell us your most common shifts and your strangest cameo shift (if you've ever had a cameo shift)?

Usually I experience a shift that results in a tail, wings, or ears. Ears are very common and I use them to listen to things around me or to emote. My tail is a stim thing and when I'm relaxed in bed for the night, I can usually feel my tail and stim my thumping it lightly on the mattress or swishing the tip back and forth.

4/ How do you experience your alterhumanity in everyday life?

Since I'm a system, I'm typically piloting this hunk of meat with another person. We communicate a lot. She can't front by herself but she's almost always there nowadays.

As for being a dragon, it has a subtlety in my day-to-day life outside of the house. But at home, I feel more comfortable and vulnerable, so that's when I experience the most shifts.

5/ What do you think of the community?

I love it! I've learned a lot from other people and I hope people can also learn from me.

6/ What are the things that make you most comfortable and euphoric in your alterhumanity?

Being able to draw my experiences, whether it's drawing interactions with my headmate(s) or drawing myself entirely as a dragon. It's nice to see a visual representation of myself and what I experience.

7/ Are you experiencing species dysphoria?

I don't experience any species dysphoria, actually!

8/ What advice would you like to say to a young alterhuman who has just awakened?

Your own experiences matter more than the "rules" other people try to put in place to limit what you call yourself. TikTok is not a resource. Tumblr is... fine as a resource. But listen to people's lived experiences, especially older alterhumans (like me. Hi. Hello. I'm 35 in a month.)

9/ Do you have/want to have gears?

I would love a partial fursuit, like just a head, hands, and maybe tail. That would be really cool. I don't have any gear though, but I'm not too bummed out about it.

10/ Do you know/have any theories about the origin of your alterhumanity? If so, tell us! (all beliefs are legitimate)

My system originates from trauma for sure. As for my dragonkinity and dromaeosaur-heartedness? No idea. I don't have a past life that I know of. But I've always tied my spirituality in with my otherkin identity. Maybe it's spiritual in origin.

11/ Tag someone/a creature to answer these questions!

The one blogger I would have tagged apparently already answered a while ago. I also get a lot of anxiety tagging people in stuff like this, so I simply invite others to answer these if they feel like it!

If you are a alterhuman, reblog and answer these questions!

(don't be afraid to write a lot, do what you want ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯)

1/ Which category of alterhumanity do you belong to?

2/ What/who is/are your type(s)? (if you have any)

3/ Do you experience shifts? If so, can you tell us your most common shifts and your strangest cameo shift (if you've ever had a cameo shift)?

4/ How do you experience your alterhumanity in everyday life?

5/ What do you think of the community?

6/ What are the things that make you most comfortable and euphoric in your alterhumanity?

7/ Are you experiencing species dysphoria?

8/ What advice would you like to say to a young alterhuman who has just awakened?

9/ Do you have/want to have gears?

10/ Do you know/have any theories about the origin of your alterhumanity? If so, tell us! (all beliefs are legitimate)

11/ Tag someone/a creature to answer these questions!ㅤᵕ̈

[cressidagrey]

Such A Mystery - Part 6

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Colette Leclerc (Original Character)

Summary:

Max Verstappen fell in love at the ripe old age of 12 and never looked back.

Colette Leclerc really regrets posting that particular Taylor Swift Lyric to her private Instagram account, because it made George Russell go insane.  

The rest of the world has absolutely no idea that the Dutch Lion and Charles Leclerc’s twin sister have been a couple for 15 years and are expecting a baby. 

Warnings: 

Pregnancy, Mention of multiple miscarriages, Pregnancy complications, George Russell Bashing (he's probably really nice in real life but in this, he's the bad guy, sorry), Jos Verstappen

Author Notes: Huge thanks to @llirawolf for holding my hand through this. Happy New Year! Chapter count is continuing to go up, because I need to halve this chapter after hitting 6k. Should be 10 parts. Hopefully.

Colette woke up slowly, for a moment disoriented and confused, before she remembered what had happened the day before.

It was dark in the room still, the sun not yet up, and the house was eerily quiet. She groaned quietly and slowly got to her feet, shuffling across the room to the bathroom. She closed the door behind her softly, switched on the light and turned on the faucet to wash her face.

The water stung at her eyes, but she relished the cold, biting pain.

By then Sassy and Jimmy were both demanding to be fed as well, and she padded out of the bedroom into the kitchen. The house was still dark and quiet, and the cats were both weaving around her legs, meowing and demanding food.

She flicked on the lights in the kitchen, blinking against the brightness, and then bent down to feed the two screeching cats.

Screeching cats and back pain, like somebody pushed a hot knife right into her lower back. What wasn’t there to love?  

Colette groaned slightly, wincing as the pain in her lower back flared, and carefully straightened back up again. She ran a hand over her back with a grimace, trying to soothe the ache.

The cats behaved like Colette had let them starve for days and she rolled her eyes at their usual behaviour as she reached for her phone that laid on the kitchen island. Somebody, she was quite sure that it probably had been Lorenzo, had simply deleted every single social media app from her phone.

That was also a solution, she reflected drily. She checked the time, finding it shortly after six. Which meant that she could probably catch Max before he was stuck in pre race preparations.

Her heart sped up slightly the mere thought of him, and a small smile tugged at the corner of Colette’s mouth. Without giving herself time to second guess herself, she pressed his contact and hit the call button.

He picked up immediately. Not that she had expected any differently from him. 

"Mon Coeur," she greeted him softly. "Good luck."

"Liefje," his voice was groggy but warm, and Colette could hear by his rough tone that he hadn’t been awake for long. There was shuffling on the other end of the line, and a low yawn, as he probably sat up in bed.

"Did you sleep well?" she asked him.

"No. I missed you horribly," he answered and she knew he was saying the truth.

"Well, you'll be back soon enough and I'll go back to torturing you with my icy feet," she teased him. And hog all the covers, because Max always ran hot at night and sleeping next to him was like having her own personal furnace. 

"I can't wait," Max said, his voice low and soft, and she could hear the smile in his voice. But there was something else...something else in his voice that she couldn't quite place.

"How are you feeling?" he asked her. "How is bébé?"

"Kicking a lot..." she answered softly. "I have some backpain, but nothing major."

"Keep resting, alright?" Max requested.

His voice was warm, normal…but she couldn’t help it…she couldn’t help but hear that something was wrong. She would have sworn on nearly everything that something was wrong. 

So she asked him. "What's wrong?" Colette asked. "What aren't you telling me, Maxie?"

Silence. For a long moment on the other side of the line, before Max sighed quietly, sounding a little guilty. "If I tell you that it's nothing that you need to know, nothing you need to worry about...will you let it go?"

Colette was quiet for a moment, trying to process this.

Whatever it was, Max didn't want her to worry about it. He was probably trying to protect her. She swallowed, before slowly saying. "I will...if you make me a promise."

"Which is...?" Max's voice was hesitant.

Colette took a deep, somewhat shaky breath. "Promise me that you're okay," she said firmly. "Promise me that...that there's no reason for me to be upset." She hated not knowing, hated that he was keeping things from her. But as long as she knew that he was okay...then she would let the matter go.

Max was quiet on the other end of the line, for what seemed far too long. He was hesitating, and that worried her.

But eventually, he answered her.

"I promise, liefje," he promised her. "Talking with you makes everything better."

The tension, that had slowly built up in her stomach started to dissolve, and she released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

"Okay," Colette whispered into the phone, and hoped she sounded more confident than she actually felt. "Keep your secrets. We'll talk when you are home," she promised him. And then he would tell her what was actually going on. 

"We will," he agreed. "I can't wait. Did you get the flowers?"

"You sent me flowers?" Colette asked, her voice soft. "You didn't need to do that. And no, not yet,” she said with a smile. “But I bet they will be beautiful.”

"Not as beautiful as you," Max told her simply. "Now, go eat breakfast, and take it easy, alright?"

"See you soon," Colette said softly. "Go drive around in circles." She could hear him laugh, a soft sound.

"Take care of you and bébé," Max told her before he hung up.

She lowered her phone to her lap and let out a sigh, a mixture of relief and worry still coursing through her veins.

He was okay. He had promised her, and Max never lied. He probably just didn't want her to worry about anything.

The ring of the doorbell, made her pull on a dressing gown, and going to open the door, to get the flowers Max had bought her.

But when Colette did open the door...the bouquet of light pink tulips wasn't the best part of what was waiting for her: 

"Surprise!"

Colette's head shot up, and her eyes widened in shock as she stared at the person on the other end of the threshold.

There, in a pair of torn jeans and a hoodie, a travel bag thrown over her shoulder...and holding an enormous bouquet of pink tulips...was Victoria. 

Max's Sister.

"Vic!?!" Colette blurted out, taken completely off guard. "What are you doing here!?!"

"I thought you could use the company," Victoria answered simply, hugging her tightly, and Colette was already holding back the tears. "You know, while you deal with all this bullshit," Victoria said darkly. 

Colette quickly nodded in agreement, feeling her eyes water as she clung onto Max's sister. The tears starting to well despite her best efforts, and her emotions starting to overwhelm her yet again.

"You've -... You've no idea how good this is, to see you," she tried to say past the tears, and Victoria pulled her into a tighter hug.

"I know, I figured as much," Victoria said brightly. "Can I get in, or are you going to make me to stand on your threshold for the rest of eternity?" she teased.

She looked down at Colette and at her baby bump with a grin. "How is my niece doing?"

"You don't know that it's a girl!" Colette complained, wiping away tears as Victoria entered their apartment.

"Max seemed quite certain a few weeks ago," Victoria teased her.

Colette rolled her eyes, but she was smiling through her tears. She closed the door behind them, and turned to look at her friend, and the enormous bouquet of tulips.

"I guess we're going to need a vase," she said pointedly, at the massive arrangement.

"The poor doormen gave that to me, got delivered this morning for you," Victoria told her. "I also got you that Acai bowl you like from the bakery own the street and croissants!"

Colette looked at the tulips, taking in their pastel colours and delicate petals. Max really could be sappy sometimes, and it warmed her heart immensely.

"Pink tulips," she said out loud. "Of course he goes all in the pink.”

"You two really are kind of adorable," Victoria teased her, and Colette felt her cheeks heat up.

"Sometimes we are," she relented, taking all the tulips into the kitchen and reaching for a vase underneath the sink.

As she filled up the vase with water, she asked, "You didn't come all the way from Belgium just to visit me, right? I feel bad, taking you from Tom and the kids."

Victoria huffed a little bit, and leant against the counter before answering.

"Oh, shut up," she said fondly. "I wanted to come here… Mama is helping Tom with the kids and Tom knows I've been worried about you, besides they are fine on their own for a few days.”

"I'm fine -.." Colette started to protest, but Victoria fixed her with such a look that she fell quiet.

"Please, you've been going through hell," Victoria said firmly. "Don’t try to pretend you're fine when you aren't."

Colette exhaled slowly, staring at the flowers in the vase.

"I'm not going to deny that things have been hard," she said quietly. "But I'm trying to take it easy...for bébé's sake at least."

"How are you feeling about it?" Victoria asked her curiously. "About it all...getting out there?"

Colette paused for a moment, her hands absently fiddling with the tulips in the vase.

"Honestly..." she admitted after a moment. "I...hate it," she admitted weakly. "We kept it secret for so long...that's all I ever knew, Vic. Like that's the benchmark. Max comes back home to me...and here...right here, we are just us. Everybody important does know, but we have our privacy...we have...nobody gives us a second glance. And now it's out there. And everybody talks about it...and judges us...and makes up this picture in their head that has nothing to do with us."

She paused for a moment, shaking her head and then exhaling slowly to try and keep the tears that were threatening to spill under control. Victoria stayed silent, watching her closely.

"It's...weird," Colette said then, her voice sounding as shaken as she felt. "I know...a part of it is the stupid hormones…Some of it was my own fault, because I really should have thought twice before being bitchy on instagram,” she said with a snort, making Victoria laugh. “But all the people on social media…all these articles…the journalists…None of them know anything about us. Yet they judge us and speculate, and write whole articles about us and how fucked up our relationship is,” she said darkly.   "I don't like it," she said flatly, fighting back the sob that was threatening to rise up in her throat. "They act like they own a piece of us...like they know anything...it just...it makes me sick. "

She fell quiet, her hand shaking slightly as she fiddled with the tulips. The flowers were beautiful, but she was struggling to take pleasure in them, when her emotions was feeling like a storm in her chest.

Victoria was quiet for a long moment, and then she walked over to her and put her hand over top of hers to stop her from fiddling with the tulips. Instead, she gently pulled her into a loose embrace.

"It doesn't matter what some person on the internet says about you," Victoria said simply. "let them write their idiotic comments. It doesn't matter."

Colette rested her head of Victoria's shoulder, and exhaled slowly.

"I know it doesn't really," she admitted after a moment. "But it still hurts, in a way."

"People are stupid," Victoria said bluntly. "They make drama to fill their miserable lives, and write bullshit on social media, because they think they're entitled to everything. And that their opinion is somehow relevant. Don't listen to anything they say," Victoria continued. "They know nothing about your life. They know nothing about your and Maxie. They don’t know how fantastic you are. And they don’t know a thing about your  happy home, the little baby on the way, and an the amazing, loyal and insanely talented man who loves you beyond all rhyme and reason."

"So let them eat their hearts out, and let's get you some decent breakfast. An I'll stay with you as long as you need me to, okay?" Victoria said, pulling back and gently grasping her shoulders. 

Colette sniffed and nodded softly.

Victoria was just like Max. They didn't sugar cost, she cut it straight to the heart of every issue, and didn't let her bullshit herself.

"That sounds good," she agreed softly. 

It did sound amazing. Better than anything else. 

The Acai Bowl from the Bakery/cafe down the street was as amazing as always and so was the Croissant that Vic had brought with her. 

“You can finally show me the nursery!“ Vic said brightly.

"You're a little bit too excited," Colette scolded her with no real force behind her words. "We are only talking about I think four pieces of furniture, Vic. And some animal themed decor,” she said with a snort. 

Victoria gave her a dry look, and raised a perfectly arched brow. "You are underestimating me if you think I would not be interested in how my niece's rooms will look," she said with a scoff. “Besides I brought you some hand me downs from Hailey! We can put them in the closet!”

“Or nephew!” Colette pointed out, making Victoria laugh.

“How are you doing with names?” Vic asked her curiously. 

“We have an agreement,” Colette said drily. “Max got to name the cats and the baby gets his surname, so first names are my choice.”

"You're not giving my niece 6 names like yourself, are you?" Victoria teased her. "Please don't give me a hard time to pronounce my own niece's name if you can avoid it."

Colette rolled her eyes. “ I only have four names,” she gave back drily.

"Four names is still two too many," Victoria said bluntly. "One is enough. Two is more than enough. You're not a French noble woman from the eighteen hundreds."

“You mean I shouldn’t name our son Perceval Verstappen?” Colette gasped, wide eyed, making Victoria stare at her.

"...Oh my god...no, you absolutely can't!" Victoria exclaimed in horror, before bursting into a peal of laughter.

“Excuse me, I happen to think Colette Marie Eugénie Veronique Leclerc sounds great,” Colette deadpanned before growing serious. “No, I am thinking only one middle name,” she told Vic with a shrug. “If it’s a boy I was thinking Emilian Hervé. After Max and my father.”

Victoria's face softened at that. “That’s so sweet,” Vic gushed. "Hervé is a nice middle name, and Emilian is beautiful as well. But what if it's a girl?"

Colette huffed and shrugged. "I...don't know yet," she admitted honestly. "But I have a few ideas. I figured I would see what feel right once they are here...but I do really think it will be a boy..."

"You know it's only a fifty/fifty chance, right?" Victoria teased her. Colette rolled her eyes.

"Of course I know that," she huffed. "I just…I just feel it, y'know?"

"You're just really hoping it's a boy so you can dress him in cute little race overalls that match Maxie’s," Victoria said with a smirk.

"That would be adorable! How can you fault me for that?!" Colette protested immediately. 

Victoria laughed and gently squeezed her shoulders. "You have terrible taste," she teased Colette. "But I gotta say the baby will be cute, no matter the gender….though you do realize the chances are, if you get a mini Max, it will be a chaotic little hell raiser, right?"

Colette sighed. “I knooooooow,” she muttered. “He woul make me go gray before even reaching pre-school…”

“Besides Mini Colette would be just as cute,” Victoria teased her. “Max would be melting.”

"Max would absolutely melt," Colette admitted, a soft smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "He would be completely wrapped around her tiny finger and spoil her rotten."

"And she would be an absolute angel," Victoria continued with a smirk. "She'll be a daddy's girl and have him do her every bidding. She'll get away with murder."

Colette could only laugh at that description. 

“What do your brothers think it will be?” Victoria asked curiously.

“Max has gotten to them,” Colette said darkly. “All think it’s a girl. Hasn’t stopped Charles from buying enough Ferrari onesies to dress a dozen babies though.”

Victoria guffawed, and covered her mouth with her hand.

"Charles bought an entire Ferrari-themed wardrobe?" She asked between giggles.

“Which then made Max decide that the kid also needed Red Bull merch,” she said with a sigh. “I thought I woul get at least one closet in the house that does not have these damn Polo Shirts in it, but nooooo…”

"Of course it did," Victoria said, sniggering again. "You really are in a family with more red bull merchandise than common sense..."

“I don’t care if it’s a boy or a girl, I just hope the baby is healthy,” Colette said seriously. Regardless if it was a boy or a girl…she didn’t actually care…she just thought it would be a boy.

Victoria nodded, her expression softening.

"I know," she said quietly. "Everything else, like boy or girl, eye colour, hair colour...who cares? All we need is a healthy baby."

[formulamar]

CONTROVERSIALLY YOUNG GF | PROLOGUE

max verstappen x femalereader

680 words

➛ disclaimer ➛

seven year age gap. please do not read if it makes you uncomfortable!!! completely fictional.

When you began to go out with Max Verstappen you anticipated for the news to make the celebrity gossip pages and cause an uproar among his fans. Afterall, it was Max Verstappen – four time world champion - you could hardly believe it yourself!

Miraculously, you and Max dated for six months without any interference from the media. It's not like your relationship was a secret or anything. Like any other couple you went out to the movies and dinned at nice restaurants. But early on in your relationship you discovered Max was a homebody, like you! So as you grew closer most of your time together consisted of hanging out at his apartment or yours watching movies or talking for hours. Still, everyone in your inner circle was astounded at how long you were able to maintain your relationship out of the media's radar.

Once you hit the six-month mark and it became clear to both you and Max that your relationship was serious you had a discussion about how outside discourse from the media would affect your relationship. Although you had only been with Max for six months you had witnessed how invasive fans and the media could be. You constantly saw articles discussing Max's private relationships with his family and his team. Every word, every action, every glance was examined and scrutinized. Max often joked that the more interviews he did the more he wished to move somewhere isolated and live out the rest of his days with you far from the judgment of anyone else. But you knew he loved driving too much to retire so early on in his career even with all of his success.

As always Max was direct, "The media is going to be annoying. They're going to make up the most ridiculous stories you've ever heard. Honestly, the best thing we can do is try ignore them as much as we can." You both agreed, the smartest decision was to take control of the narrative instead of running the risk of having your relationship leaked. So you decided to attend a beginning of the season Redbull event with Max. It was a well documented event and important media figures and photographers would be present. The timing was a bonus. Everyone was focused on the upcoming season and most of their curiosity was concentrated on the new car rather than the personal lives of the drivers. It was a perfect way to debut your relationship to the media.

That night approached quickly, and it would be a lie to say it wasn't one of the most nerve-racking nights of your life. As someone who wasn't famous it was intimidating to be exposed to that world. Luckily, your boyfriend saved you from overthinking. Max was reassuring and attentive the entire night. On the car ride to the event, he made sure to hold your hand and make casual conversation as if it were any other night. He also organized for you guys to enter through the back, away from the paparazzi. Throughout the whole night he barely left your side and when he did he made sure you were comfortable. These small details helped you stay grounded.

Overall, it was a good night. It was nice to finally meet members of the team who had such close bonds with Max. You loved hearing all the stories about Max's victories and his race weekend habits. It was obvious that his team adored him and that only confirmed what you had felt in your heart since the day you first met him -- he was a keeper. You and Max went home confident that you had beaten the media. What could they even say? Max was in a new relationship and he was happy. There was nothing else to it.

Except you made the mistake of glossing over a detail the media would never forget. Before you, Max had only dated women older than him. And you were six years younger than Max.

The next morning you woke up with a new identity. Max Verstappen's controversially young girlfriend.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌a/n: happy 2025 everyone 🫧 i had this idea… so i decided to go through with posting the first part. i’m thinking writing + social media posts! what do we think??? i’m open to suggestions so don’t be afraid to comment or inbox me!

[kyri45]

Hello! I absolutely ADORE your Shadowpeach AU comic and can't wait for the next part! It's always nice to see an author who's just as invested in their story as their readers are. Anyway, I wanted to ask, have you ever thought of writing a Sonadow AU comic? I think I've read around you're in the Sonic fandom a little and I was wondering. I personally find quite a few parallels between Shadowpeach and Sonadow so this came up ^^ Thanks for getting around to answering this and I hope you have a lovely day/night 🐵

Helluu. I DO have literally only ONE story/2shot that one day I would like to write. But it's like a pre-relationship thing. My min issue with Sonadow fics is that there's no fixed timeline. Every media also treats sonadow in a slightly different way. So it's really hard to either choose one or make content for one. That's why so many fics or medias are pretty general, or are tied to just one media. I'm someone who needs a clear canonical structure to base my stories on.

I REALLY don't like making up stuff on my own, not because i can't, but because my main goal when making fanfiction is making something that is as CLOSELY to the original canon as possible, because the fact that is so similar to the canon is what in a way, tricks my brain that IS canon, and that makes me aplreciate it more than others.

[itsjustpolyester312]

THIS IS SO SWEET IM GONNA CRY

thanks so much for tagging me, rust!!! I love seeing your posts pop up on my dash and would really love to get to get know you better <3

@traveleroffarawayplaces - thank you for being so nice and kind and honestly just such a good friend!! I love reading your fanfic so much <3

@idonoiyo - thank you for helping me step outside of my little box!! I literally would never have made more mutual without you and you're just such a lovely person to be around <3

@jaycer - thank you for being there for me when no one else was. you're someone i know i can always rely on and you can always rely on me <3

@thebutterflypoetess - thank you for everything. this new year is going to be particularly hard without you <3

and thank you to all my other mutuals. seeing your posts on my dash always makes my day <3

@animated-scribble @y0ur-f4vor1te-crypt1d @kartsstuffig @44-mr-midnight-44 @silver-eater @free-slug-cat @my-mom-named-me-duck @softenedsunbeams @ccosmicentity @starsofthestorm @jaime-in-chaos @ the person who sent me this (i cant remember your url so sorry man) @ UHM UHM I FORGOT URLS

[justluxy]

Hot Roommate Extended

Hot Roommate x Bottom Male Reader

Tw: Mentions of Sex, Alcohol, reader is a bit immature, dub-con (i think since reader is drunk and can't think straight?)

Word count: 1.7k

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ 1:35 ───ㅇ───── 3:47

You recently moved to an apartment in a new city, but who would have thought it was so expensive to live there? You couldn’t afford to pay for the apartment and groceries. So, you decided to look for a roommate! You had two rooms so it wouldn’t be that bad. You made a post and someone answered, he seemed nice so you agreed to share with him, his name was Owen Palacios but damn… he was hot… I mean really hot…

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ 1:35 ───ㅇ───── 3:47

The first thought that came to your mind Owen was damn… how can a man be so hot? Literally he looked like a fucking model! He was muscular and tall. Even his personality was hot, he was nice, kind, and living with him was NOT easy for you I mean, he always walked around in just shorts! You could even see his dick through the shorts and man… that made you pop a boner a couple of times

“Heeey [name]!~” Owen said with his usual sweet tone while grabbing your waist with his big, manly hands and resting his head on your shoulder

“What do you want?” You said coldly, you sometimes hated the way he acted with you because he was so flirty like he liked you but at the same time didn’t! He was playing with your feelings and you hated it

“Sooo I have something to tell you!” He said with the same tone, “I’m having a girl over tonight so I was asking for your permission and thank you!” He said before leaving the apartment and he didn’t even let you answer… What a jerk!

“Son of a bitch” You said before going to your room and started studying for college, usual boring activities but you didn’t complain, you actually liked having a normal, boring life

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ 1:35 ───ㅇ───── 3:47

Fuck… you hated this. You could hear a loud, annoying girl moaning from Owen’s room and you hated it! That girl was so fucking loud and annoying you could not even sleep! You hated the annoying girl and you hated Owen… but lowkey you wanted to be the girl… I mean what?

You couldn’t handle it anymore so you went to the living room and turned the tv on and try to ignore the girl. That was becoming common for Owen, always bringing girls over and being loud… you really needed to talk to him about it

Finally you saw the girl leaving, her legs shaking like jelly and you just sighed and then Owen got out of the room, his clothes and hair messy and with a blush and dumb smile

“Well that was fun…” He said with his dumb smile and sat next to you at the couch while trying to fix his hair since it was all messy from the previous event with the random girl

“I don’t wanna hear about it” You said annoyed and it was true, you didn't want to hear your hot roommate talking about his sexual life in front of you!

“Aww why? You’re jealous?” He said teasing you with his usual smirk that you secretly loved but would never tell him

“Ew never” You said annoyed before going to your room while Owen only chuckled

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ 1:35 ───ㅇ───── 3:47

It was the next day and both you and Owen were in the apartment, the tv was on and you were scrolling through your phone while he was cooking, his food was perfect as always, was there something that man was bad at!?

“Heey [Name] I have a question!” He said while turning the stove off

“What” You said not interested while scrolling through your phone

“My friend is hosting a party and I’m invited so I was wondering if you want to go with me?” He said smiling and sitting next to you on the couch

“Why would I want to go? I don't like getting drunk and loud people” You said still scrolling through your phone but then you felt his big hand around your shoulder 

“C’mon [nameee]! It will be fun! There will be a lot of girls there! And I promise if you go, I won't bring a girl tonight!” He said with his face terribly close to yours

“You promise?” You said with your eyebrow raised and he nodded happily, “fine i’ll go with you” you said before sighing

“Yay! Let’s go!” He said before grabbing your hand and practically running to the door and then his car, “Hey I didn't change my clothes!” You said annoyed, “It doesn't matter, it’s a casual party and we are a bit late anyway” He said before turning the car on and driving to the party… you just hoped nothing crazy happened… oh how wrong you were

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ 1:35 ───ㅇ───── 3:47

You didn't like it, no, YOU HATED IT! You were seeing your semi-crush dancing with every single girl in the party! You were… jealous? Why would you be jealous of the annoying guy… right?

You wanted to kill him and the girl! They were so annoying! You didn't want to see them anymore so you went and grabbed some drinks to try and forget him

After three drinks you were ALREADY super drunk and you couldn't even speak properly or think properly so you went and talked to Owen and the annoying girl he was dancing with

“Oh hey [na-”, he said before you cut him off, “Be… q-quiet and let’s go home!”, you said trying to speak properly but it was hard, even walking up to them was hard 

“But-” He tried to protest, “Now!” You said creating a scene where every single guest looked at you two, “Sorry cutie, i have to leave okay? Ciao~” He said to the girl as you clung on Owen and giving the girl a mean glance 

“Okay let’s go my boy…” He said while carrying you in bridal style to his car and placed and buckled your seat belt and started driving to the apartment, every few minutes Owen looked at you to see if you were okay

Then when you guys got home, and, he carried you to your room and placed you in your bed. He was about to leave when you grabbed his arm with your hand and pulled him down your bed so he was on top of you

“D-Don’t leave…” You said, still drunk and not thinking straight. Then you grabbed him and mare him lay on the bed while you got on top of him while he looked at you surprised

“What are y-” He said but you put your finger on his lips, preventing him from speaking. “You said you’re not bringing any girl tonight… let me satisfy you tonight” you said moving your hips on his crotch, still a bit drunk and not thinking straight

“Mmm… it’s finally happening then~” He said with a smirk as he took off your pants and underwear as you moaned as you felt his hands on your ass

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ 1:35 ───ㅇ───── 3:47

You woke up feeling sore… now you remember why you stopped drinking and going to parties. You looked around and you realized you were in your room but wait… your pillow felt hard and it moved, god did you sleep with someone?

You looked up and you saw… OWEN!? Did you have sex with him? No no this was not good! So you pushed him out of your bed

“What the hell Owen!?” You screamed as you threw a pillow at him

“Shit…” He said rubbing his eye and standing up

“PUT SOME CLOTHES ON!” You said as you threw another pillow at him while he tried to put his boxers on

“I can't believe we had sex!” You said while you covered your face of embarrassment with your hands

“If it makes you feel better, it was amazing! Did you know you’re pretty intense at sex?” He said happily but stopped smiling when you gave him a mad look

“Get out of my room!” You said as you tried to walk up to him but failed as your legs felt like jelly and you fell

“Are you okay?” He asked worriedly but when he got close to you, you punched his balls, “Ahh!” He yelled before sitting on the bed while holding his balls with his hands with a pain expression 

“Get out!” You said and he ran away, not wanting to get punched by you again

This was bad… really bad. You felt good that you finally slept with him but you felt bad and sad that you were drunk and that he will probably forget it and act like nothing happened when it meant a lot to him… you didn't want to be just a fuck buddy

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ 1:35 ───ㅇ───── 3:47

Finally when you calmed down you decided to talk to Owen and finally get this over with. He was sitting on the couch doing nothing when you sat down next to him

“We need to talk…” You said seriously while looking at him

“Yeah… listen… I’m sorry okay? I know I messed up… I should not have done that… I knew you were drunk and I still did it… and I understand if you’re mad…” he said with a sincere tone

“It’s just… I like you a lot… but I don't want to just forget it and pretend it didn't happen…” you said looking at him

“You like me? Actually? Wow… I like you too, you know?” He said with a surprised tone

“Actually?” You said surprised too, “Then why the hell you bring girls every single night!?” You asked

“Hehe just to tease you” he said with his usual smirk, “So… [Name] do you wanna be my boyfriend?” He asked while holding your much smaller hand

“Tsk fine…” you said embarrassed and looking away with a blush all over your face

“Then… now you will be the only one making noises at night… no more girls” he said smirking while you could only blush and hide your face in your hands

[peachesandscreem]

Retribution

Despite his best efforts, you've been a brat all day and Nanami is sick of it.

NSFW below the cut.

Modern AU.

Dom!nanami x sub!afab reader

CW: anal play, impact play, brief mentions of choking, afab reader, dom/sub dynamics, bondage, daddy kink, p in v intercourse.

Kento Nanami loves you.

Truly, he does.

He loves everything about you. Your sweet and caring personality. Your quick-witted humor. He loves the way you dress, the way you walk, the way you breathe.

But one thing he can't stand is your ability to get under his skin.

Kento Nanami loves almost everything about you.

It had been a nearly perfect day. An overcast Saturday. A lazy morning at the farmers market picking up fresh baked treats for the week and new soaps to try. Breakfast pastries and lattés from your favorite café. A late picnic lunch by the river downtown that Nanami had taken the time to pack for the both of you, complete with your favorite sandwich and beverage. Ice cream for dessert. It had been a day filled with all of the things you loved.

So why did you insist on being such a brat all day?

It started when you were getting ready for the day. A reminder of the time and an inquiry on your status of getting dressed had earned him your scorn.

'I'm coming, Ken' you had snipped, cutting your eyes at him briefly while pulling off the third sweater you had tried on and tossing it to the floor, searching your closet for another one. He chalked it up to you being tired. It wasn't unusual for you to be a little grumpy in the morning. He let that one slide.

Your next transgression came in the form of you refusing to stay by his side while you traversed the streets. The city you lived in was safe enough, but you knew he didn't like letting you out of his sight when you were out. Everytime he looked up from a produce stand or turned to ask you what you thought about an item he picked up, you were gone. He had to track you down no less than 10 times by the time you left the market.

Apparently holding his hand was out of the question as well, with the way you wrigled out of his grasp any time he tried, pulling your hand back with a huff and an indignant stare.

The final crack to his thinning patience was when you began blatantly ignoring him. Any questions he asked you were met with silence or a response unrelated to the topic at hand.

'Did you have a nice day?'

'Sure,' you shrugged in response, staring out the window of his sedan at nothing in particular on your way back home.

'Are you okay? You seem off today.'

'Your car is kind of dirty, Kento. When's the last time you cleaned it out?'

Nanami had had it.

And so you found yourself here, laid completely bare on your shared bed. A silver jeweled plug nestled prettily in your ass, chains connecting it to a cuff on each ankle and your hands bound to your thighs with soft pink rope. All while Nanami dealt sharp slaps to your throbbing pussy.

You'd last track of the time, unable to tell how long you'd been like this. Minutes? Hours? Your knees ached from being bent to your chest, your wrists raw from pulling at the ropes that bound them, and your sex swollen and tender from your relentless punishment. Sobs hiccuped from your throat and sparkling tears streamed down your cheeks as you looked into your lover's eyes, his expression severe.

Another wet slap seared into your sensitive flesh had you crying out in pain until Nanami slipped two long digits into your slick heat, curling them right into that sensitive spot inside you, causing you to choke out a watery moan.

"You're soaked," he scoffed. "This is supposed to be punishment." As if he was faring any better. The wet patch on the front of his briefs was growing larger by the second as pre-cum leaked from his tip like he was a fucking virgin. He'd be ashamed if he wasn't so enthralled.

A strong fist wound its way into your hair, bringing you closer to him. Warm breath fanned across your flushed and tear-streaked face as he took in your debauched expression. Eyes nearly crossing from the intense pleasure of his assault on your spongy g-spot, drool threatening to drip from the corner of your mouth. You were a vision, even when you were being ruined.

"You really pissed me off today" he seethed, finger-fucking you while you struggled to maintain eye contact.

He released his tight grip on your hair in favor of cupping your cheek and slipped his other hand up to draw slow circles on your swollen clit.

"Maybe I've been too lenient with you lately" he mused. You nuzzled your face into his large, warm palm and looked up at him, trying to convey how apologetic you were with your teary eyes. Sometimes that worked to make him go easier on you.

This wasn't one of those times.

A sudden sensation had you gasping he stopped his ministrations on your clit and began toying with your plug. Gently pulling, pushing and tapping on the metal, your chains clinking with the movement.

"We're going to put this behind us with the expectation that there won't be a repeat of your actions today. Are we clear?"

You nodded quickly, "y-yeah!"

His hand drew back without warning and dealt a firm slap to your ass, "manners."

"Yes, Sir," you whimpered.

"Better. However, " he rubbed his hand soothingly across the sore, reddened skin, "I have yet to hear those two important words I've been waiting for," he chided.

"M'sorry," you slurred

Another harsh slap to the opposite side of your ass had your back arching sharply off the bed as a cry ripped from your chest.

"You can do better than that" he scolded.

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, Sir! I'll be good! Promise!" You pleaded, feeling fresh tears well up in your eyes.

"That's what I like to hear," he growled as he dipped his middle finger between your folds and circled your clit in quick circles, drawing moans and whimpers from you, your legs shaking with the strain of being held in an uncomfortable position for so long.

More tears escaped your glistening eyes, your make up that you had painstakingly applied this morning now smeared around your lids. Nanami thought you had never looked prettier.

His cock throbbed, hard and heavy, pounding against the zipper of his slacks. He knew you were almost at your breaking point. He wasn't sure how much more he could take.

Your chest heaved with each shuddering breath you drew into your lungs. Your eyes slipped closed momentarily as he angled your face to slot his mouth against yours in a breathless kiss. Tongues melded together in your mouth, the faint memory of coffee and ice cream at the back of your throat.

He swallowed your soft moans and whimpers whole. Kissed away the remaining tears on your face. His resolve finally snapping when he drew back and you looked up at him with those pretty eyes, batted your lashes at him slowly, and went in for the kill.

"Daddy. Please." You whispered, your cloying voice sending a shudder down his spine and straight to his cock. Goddammit. You knew what that did to him.

He groaned, deep and loud and you knew you had him wrapped around your finger. Bound and submissive but still in control in the end. You swallowed your smirk and feigned innocence.

Shucking off his pants, Nanami came to kneel in front of you, his member lying on your mound, tip resting above your pubic bone as he dripped sticky pre-spend onto your skin. He grasped himself and gave his cock a few quick pumps while lining himself up with your entrance.

Looking down at you, your eyes wide with anticipation and breath caught in your throat. You were beautiful. He was so lucky.

"Love you so much, angel" he breathed as he finally pushed into your snug, drenched core. You moaned in unison, pleasure mixing with pain at the stretch as he worked his way into you inch by inch, eventually bottoming out with his heavy balls pressed against your ass.

"Love y'too, daddy" you slurred, already drunk on his cock. You rolled your hips to the best of your ability, your signal to him to move.

In tune with your body, he knew what you needed. Drawing back until only his tip remained in you and thrusting back in quickly, all the way down.

"You drive me crazy, you know that? Being such a damn brat all day." He began a steady pace, hips humping into you harshly and his tip brushing your cervix with every deep stroke.

"It's okay though. Can't stay mad at you for long." He grabbed your calf with one hand and slipped his other between your bodies and began working your clit again, moving with skilled precision. "You're daddy's good girl after all, right? Tell me." He pleaded while his hips worked faster, fucking into you relentlessly.

"M'your good girl daddy! Always-hah- always yours!"

"Yeah-fuck. Fucking mine" he growled. The hand on your calf moved to grasp your throat, thumb and pointer finger pressing against your blood vessels, making you feel lightheaded and euphoric.

You felt the warm, creeping sensation of your orgasm building in your stomach. Your body tingled, goosebumps erupting across your skin.

"Can I cum daddy, please? D-don't think I can hold it" you whined, voice shaking with his harsh thrusts into your sopping heat.

Nanami struggled to keep his rhythm, hips stuttering and his hand on your clit erratic.

"Yeah, baby" he gasped "cum for me all over this cock. Need to feel you. Now." He hoped he sounded commanding and authoritative and that you couldn't tell he was actually begging.

A few more deep thrusts and tight circles on your sensitive bud and you were gushing onto his pulsating member, clenching and throbbing as he brought you to ecstasy. You cried out some broken version of his name, titles and formalities forgotten as you fell apart for him.

He watched you, enraptured with your release. No one made pleasure look as good as you. Face flushed, eyes rolled back, back arched, jaw dropped open and letting free the prettiest sounds he'd ever heard.

It drove him over the edge after you, thick ropes of cum painting your insides and filling you to overflow. His own moans raising in octave as he buried his face into your neck, biting down on the flesh of your shoulder to subdue his gasps and whimpers as he tiptoed into overstimulation. Hips jerking uncontrollably in the aftershocks of his release.

He stilled and breathed deeply into your chest, planting soft kisses against your breasts, before he reluctantly pulled himself out of you.

Pulling out your plug, he undid the cuffs on your ankles, kissing and rubbing the skin under the restraints as he went. He untied your wrists, giving your thighs and wrists similar treatment, praising you as he worked in a hushed voice. You closed your eyes, regulating your breathing back to a normal level as you relaxed into the plush duvet, aching joints relaxing for the first time in what felt like days.

You felt his weight disappear from the bed and return a moment later, jumping when he pushed a cold bottle of water into your hand as he gathered you into his arms and held your back against his chest. He moved your sweaty hair behind your ear and kissed his way down your neck and shoulder.

"Let's get you cleaned up" he hummed as he picked you up and carried you into your shared bathroom.

Nanami loves everything about you. Even when you get under his skin.

[fenharel-babe]

Hehehe finally getting to answering it >:))). I would LOVE to see YOUR ROOK🫵 @emmg AND EVERYONE ELSE TAGGED!!!

🌻 How old is your Rook? How do they feel about celebrating their birthday? What gift has meant the most to them?

My Rook is Raven Mercar, and she is 30 (if I’m doing the math right from DAO—>DATV). Rook is pretty neutral about celebrating her birthday. She likes it but if people don’t remember she doesn’t make it a big deal. She does feel very loved and overly happy when people DO remember it. It will make her cry the first time.

Lucanis made her a childhood meal of hers that her parents used to make before they died from the Blight. He surprised her with it one evening for dinner and she sobbed. It was very important to her because it proved that he actually paid attention to what she said and remembered something so small about her. He remembered a MEAL her parents made, and she mentioned it in an off hand comment. It was a very emotional dinner, and she couldn’t have wished for anything else.

🪻 What is the most painful injury your Rook has received? How has it affected them once it healed/scarred?

Raven was a slave during her early 20s (it’s a LOONG story) and her masters were…decent. They got her a tutor for her magic, gave her nice clothes, kept her healthy, but their guests were not the same. They were assholes and her masters never truly did anything. They scolded them, but never truly stopped them.

One day, Raven was weak from training so hard with her tutor the previous night. She was tired of having her tutor hit her knuckles with a ruler when she didn’t meet expectations so she pushed herself hard one night, and the next day a party was held. Raven was exhausted on her feet and felt a little sick, and the demands and how fast she has to work with other slaves was NOT good for her. At one point, she ran into one of the guests and ended up tripping and dropping a glass tray she had in her hands filled with items. Everything, as expected, broke and to make matters worse, Raven fell onto it face first. The glass stabbed and slashed her neck, but didn’t hit anything vital. The guest (and a few others around her) were demeaning her and saying how useless she was, and none helped her up or even called for a healer. She had to get up on her own, holding a hand to her neck, and rushed towards a healer that stayed in the home. It left scars on her neck and shoulder, long slashes is what they look like.

It wasn’t necessarily the most painful, but it was painful emotionally. She never felt so helpless and uncared for until that moment. No one helped her up or even cared if she was okay. She realized that night she had to get out or she would end up dead one day and no one would care.

🌹 What’s the first genuine fight Rook got in with their love interest about? How was it resolved?

Raven and Lucanis rarely fight to be honest. The only thing that makes them angry at each other is when they lie about their feelings or aren’t honest. Both have been through shit, too scared to talk about it and ruin what they have, so they lie and say things along the lines of “I’m fine.” Lucanis gets upset/worried about Raven’s occasional people pleasing attitude and how she sometimes says “yes” too many times. She denies that she’s doing that at all, not wanting to realize she’s falling back to her slave habits, and it irritates Lucanis because babe. You don’t need to please people all the damn time. You’re your own person!!

The way their arguments/unsaid arguments are resolved when they sit down and talk. Sounds cliche and too simple, but it’s true. They sit down and talk about how they feel and why they do the things they do. They both say what they’ll do better, or will try to, and they try to give solutions to the problem to help them be better. They just wanna help each other be good and happy.

Raven may also have a bit or a problem with Lucanis just killing people easily (given how she only kills when necessary) but she doesn’t think much about it.

🌸 Does your Rook have any siblings or close friends they see as such? Where are they during the events of Veilguard?

Raven used to be good friends with Bloom Lavellan and Joseph Lavellan, who were the INQUISITORS!! She was born in Kirkwall and was there during some events of DA2. Bloom and Joseph were there (long story) and Bloom found Raven on the streets. Raven’s parents had died because of the blight and she couldn’t afford the house anymore, so she was forced out onto the streets. Bloom found her and helped her with her magic, basically being a teacher to her, and was all motherly to her. Until she was taken by slavers one night who also kidnapped Bloom. However, Bloom had gotten away and didn’t have time to save Raven or else they would both be caught…so she ran.

Raven felt betrayed and lost that connection to both of them. It’s how she becomes a slave in the first place. It comes back during DATV.

🌾 If there was a demon trying to trap/take over Rook, what kind would be the most successful? What would break their hold?

It would be difficult for them to do it, BUT if one was ever to win in some universe, it would definitely be Fear. Raven is scared of being alone, being forced into slavery again, losing everyone she loves, and it’s why during the Fade Prison scene, she was so scared and almost willing to give up. She felt like everyone was gone…so why should she try anymore? Fear of being abandoned and not being loved is her biggest ones, so a demon making her feel that way or threatening her with that would definitely win.

🌱 Was Rook involved romantically with anyone before Veilguard? What was their partner like? How did the relationship end?

Raven was never romantically involved with anyone before Lucanis. She lived in Kirkwall with her parents, lived on the streets once they died of blight, had a teacher and lived okay for awhile, was taken by slavers and sold to live as a slave, and once she escaped her masters’ she lived on the streets of Minrathous and barely survived. She worried about what she would eat next, not some pretty boy she saw and spoke a few words to. It’s why she was very awkward with Lucanis and didn’t know how to flirt or truly know what Love was. It’s why it takes awhile for them to get together, but they make it work. Their matching awkwardness makes them fall for each other lol.

🌼 If someone was to ask Spite what Rook smells like, what would he say?

Like flour or something sweet since she LOVES pastries such as donuts, and a mix of coffee. She smells like a bakery honestly.

🌷If Rook needed to get away from their responsibilities for a moment, where would they go? Where is their safe space outside the Lighthouse?

She would’ve gone to the Shadow Dragons hideout. These people saved her from the streets (literally barely surviving) and helped her mentally and emotionally and physically and any other way they can help. It feels safe there, at least until it was destroyed. Now she doesn’t know where to go and just hides in her room in the Lighthouse. If she was forced out of the lighthouse, she would go to that little fisher guy Neve brought her to once to buy food. He was sweet and she loved the sound of his voice and the food. Maybe if she ate and spoke to him about simple things she would feel better….

🥀 What figure from Rook’s personal past would be added to the regret prison?

It would be her parents. Her parents are dead, but she still tries to live up to what they would’ve wanted for her. If she heard them confront her and look at her with disappointment? She would sob, falling to her knees, and would just…be there for awhile. She wants them to be proud of her and still love her from beyond the grave.

If they mentioned how naive she was for trusting him and playing into Solas’s hands, she would sob and feel so much regret for doing anything. She would eventually break out of it, but if she saw them??? It would haunt her.

🪷 Does your Rook have an irrational phobia? (ie spiders or large man-made objects submerged underwater)

She doesn’t really have any big fears other than HUGE bugs or being trapped. Being trapped underwater in any way freaks her out, being trapped in a room freaks her out. She just CAN’T STAND being trapped. She already was when she was a slave, so she fears falling back into that. She needs freedom, not entrapment.

🍀 Has Rook had any near-death experiences? What went through their mind during what they thought was going to be their final moments?

Her only near death experience was when she was 27 and lived on the streets after escaping her previous masters. She had lived on the street for 2 years now, and it was bad. She was sick, her hygiene was terrible, she had gotten hurt from being caught trying to steal food, and she was laying in an alleyway. She believed if she fell asleep, she would never wake up again. She was so sure and just kept thinking of her parents. Would she see them again? Did she even deserve to see them again? Her thoughts weren’t really straight since she was hurt and her health was declining. She was just so tired.

But before she could die, a shadow dragon found her and brought her to the hideout. They got a healer to her immediately and she was saved.

💐 What is the relationship Rook has with their faction mentor? What was the moment they sent Rook away like?

Raven’s relationship was very close. She was dependent on them heavily and cared for them since they cared for her. When she was sent away she was heartbroken, though a part of her understood. It felt like when she was taken away from home in Kirkwall all over again, but she knew it was different. They only sent her away as a last resort, she knew that. She was lonely and scared being on her own again, but the people taught her to be careful and how to be on the street if necessary. She would live to see them again, she would make sure of it.

🌺 Is there an object from Rook’s childhood they look back on fondly? (ie a favorite stuffed animal, book, or food)

Since she was taken from Kirkwall, she didn’t have anything big to look back on. The only thing she had was the memory of a dish her parents made for any celebration. It was her favorite and she remembered the recipe and whenever she was really hungry, she swears she could taste it.

She would help her parents make it and it was always a sweet moment for the whole family. It’s why Lucanis makes it for her once she tells him what it is, because he knows it’s very important to her.

🌿 Does your Rook have any tattoos? What was the moment when they got them like? If they’re a Crow where is their de Riva brand located? What vallaslin do they have/how did they earn it if they’re Dalish?

Raven got a small snake tattoo on her wrist. It’s wrapping around her wrist and all the way to a finger. It’s a simple snake, and its eyes match her eye color and its body is red and black. It is always a constant reminder of the group that saved her and how she will always be a part of it. Even if she doesn’t have the clothes or anything else, she has the tattoo. And it’s enough for her.

The moment she got it was emotional. She knew she had people always with her and would help her if she needed it. She had an organization backing her up, so she wouldn’t truly be alone again. If she wasn’t with them, then she would have this tattoo to always carry them with her.

🍂 What was it like the first time Rook killed someone? How did they react afterwards?

Raven killed someone when she was living on the streets in Minrathous. It was a slave catcher and he was after her. She was trained in magic, yes, but she still had outbursts at times and if she was panicked, the magic would react. She was cornered in an alley, the man had a whip and was so close to getting her, so she cast a spell. She didn’t know what it was till it happened. It was a fireball to him, and it was strong. He burned to death in front of her eyes, and it was terrifying. She felt like a monster, but at the same time she felt a bit of…joy at seeing him dead. He wouldn’t be able to hurt anyone else.

It’s what really scared her. The fact she cared but also didn’t care that he was dead. It still is a battle in her mind whenever she kills someone.

Woe! Rook ask game be upon ye!

🌻 How old is your Rook? How do they feel about celebrating their birthday? What gift has meant the most to them? 🪻 What is the most painful injury your Rook has received? How has it affected them once it healed/scarred? 🌹 What’s the first genuine fight Rook got in with their love interest about? How was it resolved? 🌸 Does your Rook have any siblings or close friends they see as such? Where are they during the events of Veilguard? 🌾 If there was a demon trying to trap/take over Rook, what kind would be the most successful? What would break their hold? 🌱 Was Rook involved romantically with anyone before Veilguard? What was their partner like? How did the relationship end? 🌼 If someone was to ask Spite what Rook smells like, what would he say? 🌷If Rook needed to get away from their responsibilities for a moment, where would they go? Where is their safe space outside the Lighthouse? 🥀 What figure from Rook’s personal past would be added to the regret prison? 🪷 Does your Rook have an irrational phobia? (ie spiders or large man-made objects submerged underwater) 🍀 Has Rook had any near-death experiences? What went through their mind during what they thought was going to be their final moments? 💐 What is the relationship Rook has with their faction mentor? What was the moment they sent Rook away like? 🌺 Is there an object from Rook’s childhood they look back on fondly? (ie a favorite stuffed animal, book, or food) 🌿 Does your Rook have any tattoos? What was the moment when they got them like? If they’re a Crow where is their de Riva brand located? What vallaslin do they have/how did they earn it if they’re Dalish? 🍂 What was it like the first time Rook killed someone? How did they react afterwards?

[synvil]

Interested // VID : 002 » Viewing Pleasure (( Camgirl! Series ))

a/n : ahhh thank you for the love and support ! <3 feel free to leave thoughts, comments or suggestions, either in the comments or my ask box! :3 picture found online.

btw i can’t fucking think of titles for the life of me.

synopsis : things between you and jj get a little tense. meanwhile another person seems to grow infatuated with you and you’re getting a little excited for your next stream?

agh i’m so bad at titles and summaries ;-;

Vid : 001 // Vid : 003

viewing pleasure m.list

“Add to cart~!”

You squeal in excitement, unable to contain your joy as you make your first purchase online after your payment came in from your first stream.

"Haha, I can't believe it. I can even afford to get same-day delivery."

JJ stands at a distance, watching you with his arms crossed and his lips in a thin line. His eyes are unable to leave your form, constantly trailing up and down your body, always finding itself on the round of your ass. He bites his lip, attempting to be discreet as he taps his fist on the surface of the countertop a few times before clearing his throat. "So, I assume it went well."

“You kidding?” You whirl your head towards him with shining eyes. “It went way better than i thought. I’m so relieved.”

JJ gives a bitter smile, his brow twitching slightly. “So you made some decent money then. That means you’re not going to stream anymore?” He says, making his way over, pulling at his shirt to tuck it over his pants in hopes it covers the visible erection.

“Hmm.. no, I might continue.” You say, watching as he takes a seat beside you, and his brows furrow. “What? I thought you made enough money for rent.”

“well, yeah, but I like being able to make so much money.. and I had a lot more viewers for my first stream than expected.” You reason, setting your phone down after making the purchase. “I mean, I don’t have to stress about finding another job that pays me so little, and with streaming, I can work any time, any day.”

JJ sits up straight as he narrows his eyes at your reasoning. Being able to make money fast was nice but it shouldn’t be at the expense of your body online. “[Name], what about all the creeps online? Who knows what kind of weird old perverts were saving videos and pictures of you?”

Your frown becomes evident on your face, but part of you knew he was right. Streaming wasn’t the safest activity and you didn’t want to sound greedy, but having that much money was more important to you right now. You’d only keep going to make enough to save for bills and stuff, while also saving enough for your own miscellaneous purchases. But..

“I know you’re right but i’ll be okay, J. Besides..” a flush overcomes your cheeks as you shyly look away, feeling embarrassed to admit this to your best friend.

“I kinda liked the attention.. It’s nice hearing and reading everyone complimenting me and liking what they saw. I might do more, but I won’t go crazy with it. I’ll only do it until I make enough in savings.”

JJ hitches a breath, his eyes widening when he hears your confession. It wasn’t anything serious but the way his cock twitches and his heart pounds makes him look away. “You..like showing off your body?”

“Y-Yeah..” You nod in confirmation, pink tints on your cheeks as you look away.

The blonde swallows a bit, holding his breath to gain some control as he turns away. “Shit.”

“JJ?”

“I gotta go. Talk to you later.” He abruptly stands and walks off, heading out of your house and to the door, shutting it behind him as he mounts his truck and drives away.

Your taken back and wonder if your confession drove him away, sighing softly and feeling a bit of guilt filling you up as you turn back to your phone and try to distract yourself.

“Who would’ve thought?..”

Rafe found himself repeatedly looking through your photos on your social media, in disbelief that you were on Kildare Island with him. And it pissed him off knowing how close you were with Maybank, seeing the many pictures of the two of you together.

If he didn’t know any better, he would’ve assumed you two were together.

But how has he never seen you before..? He’s practically grown up with JJ yet he can’t seem to recall ever seeing someone like you around.

Surely he’d remember someone so fucking attractive.. his thumb can’t seem to swipe away from your bikini photos.

Before he could admire any more, Topper sends him a text.

‘Bro, were you watching the link I sent you? Holy shit, she’s so hot. What I wouldn’t give to get a chance to fuck her.’

Rafe scoffs at the text as he rolls his eyes. Of course he noticed Topper's user donating money to your stream as well. Topper was really irritating sometimes. It seems all he could care about was sex and money. You definitely seemed like the type of person who was very sweet, innocent and pure.. someone who he could easily destroy and corrupt from how petite you were, as he hovers over you and slowly travels his hands down to your cunt, the same pussy you were rubbing just yesterday and—

“What the fuck?”

Rafe lets out a shaky breath, catching himself and his thoughts, unaware of his hardened cock in his tight jeans, the desperation to be freed evident from how painful it was becoming.

He brings his hand down and palms himself for a moment, doing anything to relieve himself before he grunts and pulls his hand away. There was no way he was going to be jerking off to someone he didn’t even know existed until now.

“Shit, I need some fucking air.” And despite the restricting pain of his jeans against his cock, he swipes his keys off his desk and heads out, taking his bike on a ride.

"Ugh, so damn stubborn." JJ plops down on his couch, dragging a hand over his face as he inhales heavily. He pulls out his phone and finds himself scrolling through social media. The blonde was sitting at home, frustrated at your insistence to keep streaming. Surely you made enough to cover rent for the next month or so, so why did you want to keep streaming for everyone to see?

It fills him to the brim with jealousy. No one should be looking at you in that way. Much less, a particular kook.

Shit, he was so distracted by you that he forgot what happened during your stream. "Fucking Cameron.. the nerve of that bastard." He scowls, conflicted about what to be more annoyed at. You continuing to stream or Rafe Cameron being one of your viewers.

“Delivery!”

Pounding on the door snaps JJ from his thoughts as he looks up from his phone, thumb instinctively shutting off the device to hide the fact that he was sifting through the photos of you two together. “Comin’!”

With a sigh, the blonde runs a hand through his hair as he makes his way out of his room towards the door. He opens the front door to see a familiar man behind the screen and he feigns a smile. “Rich, always a pleasure.”

Growing up on Kildare meant a lot of the residents knew each other, including the delivery man, who had a mutual disliking towards JJ, grimacing at the sight.

But JJ merely just shares a playful grin. “It wouldn’t kill you to smile, y’know. Afraid you’ll get wrinkles?” He jokes and the man rolls his eyes. “Shut it, Maybank. You’re lucky I don’t throw your damn package in the ocean.”

JJ gasps at that, widening his eyes childishly. “Well, that’s not very environmentally friendly!” He laughs as he takes the box from his hands. “But anyway, what the hell is this? I didn’t order anything.”

“Well, it’s not my problem now.” Rich hands over the device and pen for JJ’s signature. JJ fiddles with the box, inspecting it curiously before taking the device to sign. “What is it?”

Grunting in annoyance, the delivery man swipes the device from Jj’s hands. “The fuck should I know? Piss off, Maybank.”

Scoffing at the rudeness, JJ turns around and kicks the door shut with his foot before walking over to the counter in the kitchen. He finally sees the address line on the box and recognizes his house address but the name piques his interest.

“[Name]?” He murmurs, confusion lacing his eyes as he pulls out his phone. “Must’ve forgot to change it from last time..” He taps along the screen before reaching your contact.

« [Nickname] / Princess 😘😍 »

Out of curiosity, as he’s typing away a message, he goes over to a drawer and pulls out a pocket knife before heading back over to the package. It must've been the package you had ordered earlier.

‘Hey, a package came to my house with your name on it. Think it got sent here by mistake. Want me to drop it off?’

Once sent, JJ sets aside his phone and cuts through the top of the box with ease, expecting it to be some clothes or such you bought for yourself.

But the item inside was completely unexpected.

JJ’s mouth becomes dry as he attempts to wet it by swallowing whatever he could as he looks inside.

Inside the box was a remote controlled, vibrating toy.

“D-Did she buy this for her next stream..?” JJ breathily exhales, his jaw clenching at the way his hardening cock twitches at the imagination of you rubbing the vibrating wand over your clit, and the possible lewd noises you’d illicit.

“Fuck..” Maybe another stream couldn’t hurt. He was conflicted. He couldn’t let you do this on camera, but he’d be damned if the thought didn’t excite him. His mind reverts back to your words.

‘“I kinda liked the attention..”

“Y-You liked showing off your body?”

“Yeah..”’

JJ clears his throat as he closes back up the box, finding a roll of tape in his drawer and securing it back up before setting it somewhere else for you.

As he sets it down, his phone buzzes from a text from you.

‘DON’T OPEN IT JJ! I’ll come by and pick it up soon’

JJ grunts at the message and exhales sharply, turning off his phone. “Too late..” He mutters under his breath.

“Thanks, J. I’ll try and stop by later tonight. Need anything while I’m out?” You take the box from his hands, JJ seemingly uncharacteristically avoiding your direct gaze. Regardless, he shakes his head as he clears his throat, leaning against the doorframe as he crosses his arms. “Hey- So, you’re streaming today?”

You carry the box towards your car, visibly relieved to see it untouched and smile lightly before turning to JJ. “Yeah, why? You gonna try and talk me out of it again?”

“No-! No-“ He clears his throat again when he realizes his outburst and awkwardly scratches the back of his head. “Uh, just- good luck, y’know. I’m sure it’ll be great. And hey- we can reschedule tonight if you’re not feeling up to it.”

You set the box on the bottom of your car in the back and furrow your brows at his words. “Thanks. But we’ll see. I should be able to come over on time if I’m not busy, but i’ll let you know.”

“Of course.” The blonde manages a smile, sending you finger guns before he waves you off. “Drive safe.”

Entering your car, you wave goodbye before pulling out and driving towards the Yacht Club, on the border of the Cut and Figure Eight.

“Dude, you should’ve watched til the end of the stream. It was amazing.”

Topper’s voice is heard when Rafe Cameron steps onto the large dock, walking past various other patrons on the benches and tables, and stepping up to the bar where Topper and Kelce stood.

Kelce shakes his head at Topper’s gushing. “Nah, man, streamers aren’t my thing. I mean, why would I spend so much on some girl i don’t even know and won’t even get to touch.” Kelce notices Rafe approaching and nods at him in acknowledgment. “Hey, you agree with me right?”

“Agree with what?” Rafe says as he stands beside them and Topper scoffs lightly. “You watched the link I sent you right? God, she’s so hot. You should’ve seen what she did before she ended her stream. I bet she’s streaming again today.”

Rafe barely manages to hide his eye roll, his hands clenching into fists. If he was holding a glass, he was almost sure he’d crack it. Something in him stirred the more Topper talked about you, and it made him angry. He had to maintain his self control before he punched the shit out of him.

But it made Rafe confused. Why was he so angry every time Topper opened his stupid fucking mouth? He had the exact same thoughts about you.

Was it because another man was talking about you? It wasn’t like you were his. He hardly even knew you. Is it jealousy?

Tch. Rafe Cameron, jealous? He hasn’t felt jealous since years ago, when his then still alive father was always favoring his sister over him. Rafe Cameron was not jealous.

He barely pays attention to Kelce and Topper, and instead catches a familiar voice nearby.

“Thanks, Sofia. It was actually more helpful than I thought, so thanks for telling me about it.”

“No problem, [Name]. I actually watched it last night, you were great.” Her playful wink makes you laugh a bit bashfully and embarrassingly as you wave it off. “I’m still a bit shy but I think what I bought today will help me a little more this time.”

Sofia slides something across the counter for you and you send a grateful smile as you pick it up. “Thanks. Good luck with the rest of your shift. I should be free this weekend if you’re down to hang out.”

“Actually, this weekend was when I was planning to stream.” She says apologetically and you only grin at her. “I’ll be watching you then. I could learn a thing or two.”

You both share giggles with one another before she’s called somewhere else and waves goodbye to you. You wave farewell and take the item off the counter before turning away.

But as soon as you do so, you meet eyes with someone, who’s staring intensely at you with parted lips, almost like they couldn’t believe you were standing before them.

Giving an awkward smile, you pull yourself away from the counter and turn to leave, heading back to your car.

“Time to go.”

a/n : so ima be honest, i didn’t fully watch every episode of obx, so idk how completely accurate the places are and the availability of pogues being able to just enter these establishments, so im changing it up to just being, whoever’s got the money can come in, even though im sure a lot of country clubs and such are invitations only.

anyhoo hoped you all enjoyed! i’m actually tryna figure out how to get more involvement with Rafe and how to get him introduced- like should he walk up to her or dm her orrr ya. any suggestions would be lovely!! <3

spoiler : i have a plan to invite one of them on stream or one to practice off camera ;)

AH SHIT I POSTED WITHOUT THE TAGS CAN PPL SEE THIS PLS

taglist : @haruvalentine4321 @lilithblackkk @sleepiibunniiii @kiiyomei @mariamadison6-blog @livinobx @doesnt-care

unedited nor proofread.

[milaswriting]

Happy New Year! ✨ It was Golden’s four year anniversary a few days ago (my baby is growing!), and that’s completely wild to me. In terms of writing, I personally know this year wasn’t what I wanted it to be, and I feel like a little bit of a let down in that regard.

Yet, you were all still so supportive of me, whether that was following me, leaving nice compliments, sending in asks etc. it all meant the world to me. I can happily promise that story wise, 2025 will have Golden’s rebirth, if you will. And I hope it’ll be a story you enjoy in this coming year and beyond.

Wishing you the best 2025 full of love, positivity and good vibes <3

[kaisaerinlover]

hii what are your thoughts on kaiser as a parent? or what he'd be like with a pregnant significant other

♡♡♡

with pregnant s/o: would probably pressure her into an abortion if it was an unplanned pregnancy (doesn’t feel like he could ever have children because he is secretly scared he would harm his kin the way his father had hurt him as a child)

but also might have gotten her pregnant as a desperate attempt to make her stay in the relationship, but after the child is born it’s hard to say if he would be able to instantly step up as a father or not cause he had a very rough childhood. i feel like after he has a child the realisation would sink in and he would isolate himself a lot and take out his anger on his s/o when he could, he would practice more at soccer, go out later etc to avoid parental duties i feel like. but then eventually, if you treat him properly and keep being nice, he will realise how great it is to be a father, realise how beautiful it is that there’s a little miniature version of him running around your shared house and learn to love the child and realise they can be like his second chance in life. he would remain a bit distant, and be reluctant to discipline, but he would try and give his child the childhood that he never had. and also he would warm up to you, he would hold a bit of resentment at first, cause he had a shit childhood and no mother, but when he sees you being so motherly to your child jit reminds him what an amazing person you are and why he even stays with you anyway; it’s because you and him are total opposites. you are a gem, truly, and as he watches you take care of etc the newest addition to your broken home, he realises that you’re a great mother. he begins to be a bit more vulnerable and soft to you. and honestly i feel like having a child COULD possibly really fix a lot of the issues kaiser have, especially seeing you take on such a loving and caring role. towards a child that is cause you would already be really loving to him. seeing you be what his mother never could be awakens something inside of him, and he realises he shouldn’t be anything like his mother or his father, he should give his child what he could never have. and he tries for the most part, he really would try but i can’t guarantee he’d be perfect. he has a lot of trauma and problems and he gives me the vibes of someone with a very avoidant attachment style so he’d be a bit off on other days, but eventually he would grow very fond and warm inside, seeing the little version of him grow up. and it also gives him a new kind of satisfaction and control over you; seeing you staying at home nurturing your child, seeing you take on such a role, knowing even if you guys break apart you can’t ever go too far because your child loves him a lot and he’s rich beyond means, so it would be pointless to fight him in court. having a child is a secret blessing; he can relive his childhood in a different way through his child and he can exert more control over you!!!