#Present Perfect Continuous Timelines | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

onaswife · 7 days ago

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The winner takes it all

Couple: Barça Femení x reader

Au! Omegaverse, Alpha x Omega

Note: This will be a complete orgy, reader will be occupied as a competition for the alphas, lots of smut but a fluff ending. If there is any mistake, please let me know.

The first member of the team you met was Aitana. You were in your fourth year of your English teaching degree, and as part of your professional practice, you had started giving personalized and private lessons in addition to the hours you were required to work at a student residence.

She had found you through a mutual friend. According to what she had told you the first time you met to discuss these lessons, she wanted to learn more English so she could do better in interviews, speak better with her foreign teammates, and overcome her fear of English. Aitana was a very calm, gentle Alpha. She always listened attentively to what you were teaching her and was very eager to learn everything you taught her.

As soon as Aitana was able to schedule the first study session with you, she refurbished one of her spare rooms. She painted it creamy red and bought the necessary supplies. A notebook for her, a small whiteboard so you could write down important things she needed to write, pencils, and markers. It was a study room, filled with books in Spanish and books in English that you had recommended.

You found it very endearing to see how focused she was on learning English. You still remember that time she was excited to be able to formulate a sentence correctly in the past tense.

"So, since we've already taken the placement test, we'll start talking about verb tenses. I suppose you know the main verb, right, Aitana?" You placed a printed piece of paper in front of her on the table, while she looked at you with Bambi-like eyes, quite confused by what you had just said.

"I…" She lowered her gaze as she seemed to stare at the sheet of paper as if it were the most important thing in the world, as if it were going to give her all the universal answers and open another door to the universe. You, on the other hand, laughed tenderly; she reminded you of a little Bambi.

"Okay, we'll start by reviewing that, and then the first thing we'll look at is the Present Tense." She had given you a small board, but you could write on it. "The main verb is the verb "to be." We covered that at the end of last class. I think you wrote it down. So, there are three tenses. Do you know what they are?" She shook her head slowly, and you smiled in understanding. You'd met many children who felt self-conscious because it was a different language, but who actually knew a lot.

"They're the present, the past, and the future," she nodded quickly, beginning to write in a notebook. Apparently, she wasn't very different from the children you taught in the mornings.

"Those moments are divided into four," you saw her raise an eyebrow and decided to continue. "There's the simple, the continuous, the perfect, and the perfect continuous." You gave her a few minutes to write and then continued making a timeline listing the four moments. You slowly explained the four and gave her an example of each, so that she understood the information.

"Now that we've covered the four, I'm going to pass this on to you." You held up a worksheet where she would first have to see which present tense it belonged to, find the mistake, and, lastly, write an example for each one. You gave her 15 minutes; you knew it would be difficult for her, so you gave her the time she needed.

You organized some of your things, putting the ones you didn't need in your bag, the rest in your pencil case, and leaving the essentials outside. You began to look around Aitana's house, trying not to look at her so she wouldn't get nervous. It gave off a great vibe, a warm light, minimalist arrangement, and light gray and white walls. There were many photos of her family and herself throughout her career hanging on the gray walls, each one framing an important moment.

After the 15 minutes were up, she timidly extended the sheet of paper toward you, anxiously awaiting feedback.

You silently reviewed them for yourself, then smiled broadly.

"Okay, shall we begin the feedback?"

"Yes, please," she sounded tired. "I didn't ask how your work went today. You're very tired, Aitana," you began as you wrote things down on the whiteboard. You looked up and saw her nod slowly. "Sorry if I was too nosy. I guess it's a teacher's way of worrying about students like that," you commented jokingly, trying to get her to let go of the day's stress. You heard her laugh at your words and felt a strange warmth in your chest.

"Okay, let's begin."

Aitana had done almost everything right, with small mistakes despite it being her first time seeing the topic. Until the final part. She became nervous and started bouncing her leg, waiting for you to tell her everything was wrong.

"I must say, I think you're the fastest learner in my classes." You smiled. "You had all good ones, Aitana. Congratulations. You're one step closer to speaking English better." You congratulated her on her new achievement, giving her a big smile that was reciprocated with emotion.

"Did I really have all good ones? Are you sure? Completely sure?" she asked, already getting up from her seat and almost jumping for joy.

"Yes, Aitana, I'm sure you had all good ones."

You saw her celebrate as if she had won the World Cup, jumping up to hug you.

That day will remain in your memory; you had never seen her so full of energy so close up.

Then came the day you met her teammates.

Aitana had forgotten to tell you that that Thursday, like every Thursday, they wouldn't be able to have tutoring because her teammates would be attending the traditional team meeting held every three weeks at one of the girls' houses.

You arrived and knew immediately that something wasn't right. When you stood outside her apartment door, you smelled a lot of different odors, all of them alphas. At first, you thought it might be the neighbors, but when a completely different person than Aitana opened the door, your suspicions were confirmed.

It wasn't that you weren't a soccer connoisseur; your best friend was a soccer fanatic, along with his father and yours, so it was a big surprise when none other than Alexia Putellas opened the door to your student's apartment.

"Do you want something? I think you've got the wrong apartment." Her voice was soft, though you knew she wasn't happy with your presence.

"I'm looking for Aitana… we had a class today." Your voice sounded weaker than usual. Her presence was imposing, and her scent even more so, making your omega feel very weak, ready to be marked or taken by that alpha. She raised an eyebrow, and when she was about to ask again, she was stopped by the hostess.

"Y/N? God forgive me. I forgot to tell you that we couldn't have class today." Aitana looked very embarrassed, while Alexia's gaze flicked between you and her companion.

"Do you want to come in? I'm sorry you had to come all the way here and we can't have class because I forgot to tell you." You could sense the change in Aitana's scent, while an apologetic look crossed her face.

"It's okay, Aitana. I don't mind going home,"you tried to dismiss her guilt as a soft, but tired smile appeared on your face.

"No, no, come on in." She brought her hand to your wrist, where she gently took it and pulled you into the apartment. You felt Alexia's gaze on you and heard her close the door behind you.

You felt like you'd just walked into the lion's den.

You were surrounded by very beautiful female athletes, all alphas. You felt a little uncomfortable being the only omega there, so you stayed close to the only person you knew, Aitana.

She introduced you to all her teammates, while they greeted you cordially. You noticed how every time she introduced you to someone, they looked you up and down. Some were more adept at hiding it, others not, and bit their lip while giving you flirtatious glances. You felt your blush grow every time that happened.

There was a moment in the night, which had been filled with meaningless conversations with the older alphas who were also showing interest in learning English, while the younger ones were more interested in flirting with you. You had decided to go out to Aitana's balcony to get some fresh air, and also to look over some things the university had sent you.

You went out with your bag to sit on the beanbag Aitana had on the balcony. You took out your computer and placed it on your lap, turning it on and logging into the university website. You put on headphones so you could hear the material better.

You were so focused on your computer that you didn't notice when someone came out onto the balcony as well. It wasn't until she sat down next to you that you realized, jumping in your seat and placing a hand on your heart, while sighing, feeling your heartbeat a thousand times an hour. "God, that was scary," you heard her laugh as she looked up at the sky.

"Sorry for scaring you. I didn't mean to. I just wanted to get some fresh air. I didn't think you'd be here… We thought you were gone. The others were starting to feel sad."

You felt embarrassed when you heard her words. Even though everyone else had made it clear they had other intentions, they always respected each other's boundaries.

Ona settled in next to you, brushing her arm against yours, but not making eye contact. A few minutes later, another person joined them, Jana. You'd noticed that she, like the other younger ones, was quite talkative and energetic. So it seemed strange to you when she sat on your other side in silence, simply looking at what you were doing on your computer and asking you questions about words she didn't know, and you happily explained everything to her. Ona, who was on your other side, was resting her head on your bicep, her eyes closed, and she seemed content with the scent of you enveloping her.

A few minutes later, you had two alphas sleeping on your sides, their heads resting on your shoulders. Aitana called out to you, but you were determined not to move so as not to wake them.

Weeks later (after exchanging numbers with most of them under the guise of planning a tutoring session), you'd been invited to a party to celebrate a big victory.

You couldn't refuse; you really needed it. You were a few weeks away from finishing your semester, and that meant a lot of stress.

You put on comfortable but nice clothes; you never know, maybe you'd find a hot alpha or something to spend the night with.

You arrived and could see how the girls seemed to be enjoying the atmosphere. Ona was dancing close to Jana, Cata was dancing close to Pina's back, and Patri was filming them. You saw Alexia standing face to face with Ingrid, while Mapi sat drinking with a smile on her face.

You approached them, greeted by their greetings and a beer. "I don't know if you'd like it, but if not, I'll tell Aitana to order something for you, little one," Kika spoke, giving you a flirtatious smile, typical of her. You sat next to Ellie, accepting the beer they'd given you. You quickly fell into a conversation with the English girl, her hand resting on your shoulders, caressing them, and your hand occasionally resting on her knee. There was a moment where she stopped hugging you to lean over to drink her drink. When she sat back down, she placed her hand on your thigh, squeezing and caressing there. It felt so good to feel her caresses on your sensitive skin.

A while later, you went to the dance floor, where you danced with all the Alphas, unaware that you had left them aroused and with a plan in mind.

That day, like the previous ones, you had gone to class with Aitana, although this time you encountered a new surprise. All of Aitana's teammates were in her apartment, apparently waiting for you as well.

You entered, greeting everyone present politely and heading to the table where they usually held classes. You took out your books, your computer, and the markers for the board, waiting for Aitana to join you. You were in the weeks leading up to exams, so you were more sensitive and stressed than usual. It was noticeable in your scent; it was less sweet, almost imperceptible, which had worried the other girls.

Ingrid had entered the small area where you felt comfortable teaching. She sat down next to you and put her arm around your shoulders.

You inertia nestled against her, inhaling her scent and relaxing slightly. She placed a kiss on your hair, beginning to caress your arm with her fingertips, sending shivers down your spine.

Then Mapi joined her. She was more active, unlike Ingrid; she started talking.

"Oh my God, baby, are you okay?" She helped you get up from the chair and, without asking, made you sit on Ingrid's lap, so you could bury your face in the Norwegian's neck. Mapi sat next to Ingrid. "I'm worried about not smelling your scent. Are you okay? I don't know if that's normal for Omegas, but if not, we should take you to the hospital for a checkup. You can't lose your scent… I really like the way you smell, love." You opened your eyes slightly and saw the exact moment a pout formed on her lips, making you feel extremely tender.

"I'm fine… it usually happens to me when I'm really stressed… It's the last few weeks of exams and I need to pass them. I don't want to waste a year and have to repeat it."

Ingrid's hands were all over your back, trying to help you relax. While Mapi seemed to have the mission of filling the space with her scent. You felt lips on your temple, making you open your eyes again, connecting with Ingrid's green ones.

"How can we help you, Kjære?" Ingrid's hands rested on your lower back, over the end of your shirt.

You felt dizzy from the attention they were both giving you; it was very difficult for you to think straight when there were two alphas marking you with their scent, trying to relieve your stress.

Mapi's lips landed on your shoulder, followed by a small bite that made you shudder completely, making you gasp slightly.

You hid your face closer to Ingrid's neck, listening to both of them laugh softly at your reaction. "It's okay, Cari." Mapi's hands rested on your waist, pressing against your side. They stayed like that for about 10 more minutes, and you were already going crazy. You were enveloped in both of their scents and could feel their cocks unconsciously rubbing against your body or pressing against yours.

You emerged from your hiding place on Ingrid's neck, sharing a look with her, which she then undressed toward her lips. She seemed to get the hint, as she slowly leaned toward you to touch her lips to yours. It began as a shy, innocent brush of lips, her hands resting on your knee, leaving small caresses with her fingertips.

But it quickly transformed into a quicker, more lustful kiss. Her hands softly and slowly moved to your waist, where she gently tugged to adjust you so that your back was to Mapi, who was standing in front of Ingrid.

As soon as she finished positioning you on her lap, you could feel the prominent erection already growing through Ingrid's pants, making you gasp and moan when you touched there. Mapi was already sitting in front of you, her hand positioning her member and also trying to calm the uncomfortable erection that was growing as she watched you rub and kiss her girlfriend with such need. Her head fell back as she now squeezed her member. When she turned her gaze towards you, she saw both of you staring at her intently.

"Mapi, we need to help our girl here. Then we can help you, right, baby?" Ingrid asked the last thing to you while she rubbed her nose against your neck, while you couldn't tear your gaze away from Maria's erection; it was almost hypnotizing.

You felt Ingrid's hands assault your backside, leaving a firm grip. You moaned, turning your gaze forward, watching as she shifted to remove your shirt and, in passing, your bra. She paid attention to your breasts, first taking one of them to her warm mouth and running her tongue over your already hard nipples. Her hands roamed over your abdomen and thighs, feeling your skin react to her touches.

"Ingrid…" you moaned as you moved your hips against her cock. "God… yes, please." Your hands gripped his hair, tugging as you felt her teeth press against your sensitive nipples. You could still feel Mapi's scent filling the space, though it was stronger now.

Ingrid brought her hands to your butt, kneading it as she began to bite near your collarbones, leaving small marks. You began to move up and down, pressing Ingrid's cock in the right place, feeling that familiar sensation of pleasure rush through your body.

Ingrid threw her head back, feeling you move against her, her hands still on your butt. She looked over your shoulder for a second, watching Mapi stare at your butt and touch her cock, now free of her pants and looking pleased. She instantly decided you should see it too.

She lifted you from her lap, and as soon as you stood up, she placed a kiss on your abdomen while slowly unbuttoning your pants, followed by soft, fluttering kisses, trying to show care and affection.

When she had your shorts off, caressing and kissing in between, she made you sit down, this time with your back to her, so you could look at Mapi, who was standing with her cock wrapped in her hand, looking at you shyly and with a blush on her face. You felt yourself getting even wetter at the sight, if possible, feeling even more in need of a cock, while Ingrid took her time kissing your body.

"Ingrid," you moaned, staring at Mapi, who had once again begun to stroke herself, this time slower but with deeper movements. She stroked from the tip to the base of her penis, while you watched the precum begin to flow out.

Ingrid pulled her pants down enough to free her member. First, she stroked it for a few seconds, then helped you align it. As soon as it entered, you could feel a small release of pleasure. It ran through your entire body, from the tips of your toes to your head.

You took a few minutes to get used to its size and thickness, then you began to ride it with her help. Her hands were firmly gripped on your hips, while her own moved upward, penetrating you deeper. In the moment when you could keep your eyes open, you were able to see the exact moment Mapi had her orgasm.

First, you saw her face, constricted with pleasure and red from the heat that had been building in the room. Then, you looked down, observing how her nipples were erect and her abs were defined by the continued tension, making you gasp as thoughts began to flood your mind, mostly about what it would be like to cum on her abdomen. Finally, your eyes reached her cock, which was at its peak in her hand.

It was wet and rumbling as she moved her hand along its length. It was a sound similar to the one Ingrid's cock made inside you. You saw how she began to move her hand faster, and her moans intensified. It didn't take more than five minutes for her to reach her orgasm. It was addictive to watch her neck tense and her veins pop out, while the same thing happened on her tattooed arms, which were then splashed with the whitish liquid that flowed from her cock. It took about 15 seconds for the semen to flow from Mapi's big cock, while she moaned with pleasure and tried to breathe normally again.

Ingrid was also close, and you were the one who was almost cumming. The familiar tugging began to appear, and your thighs were already trembling. You brought your hands to your tits to knead and play with your nipples, pulling them, giving yourself more pleasure. You lasted no more than 10 minutes with these movements before you came on top of Ingrid, satisfied. She moved against you as she came, and you tried to come down from the cloud of pleasure and ecstasy you'd been lifted to.

While you were in that state, Mapi approached Ingrid and handed her a marker. She took it and leaned you forward, making you hug her abdomen while you wiped the tears there.

She wrote on your lower back, before reaching your buttocks: "Ingrid: 1."

Mapi smiled at her, watching her write with a satisfied smile on her face. All the alphas had planned such an encounter, and they had also talked about writing down how many orgasms they could give you.

"Does that also count as an orgasm caused by me?" Mapi asked as she ran her hand through your hair, leaving soft, tender caresses.

"Do you think so?"

"She watched me masturbate for her, it turned her on and helped her cum," she murmured, feeling triumphant. Ingrid handed her the marker so she could write it down, then pulled you towards her chest as she hugged you and placed small kisses on your shoulders and neck. Mapi leaned down and wrote her name with a 1 below your right collarbone.

She smiled contentedly, watching you draped over Ingrid, her cock still resting inside you.

"There's still a lot of night ahead, baby, so come on. We all want to make you feel less stressed and better. Are you ready for the night?" Ingrid whispered against your ear, as she began rubbing your clit, making your legs tremble slightly and you moan her name.

"Can you answer me?" A long gasp left your chest as you opened your eyes again, looking at a smiling Mapi in front of you.

"Yes, God, yes. Please." You brought your hand to Ingrid's, gently squeezing her wrist. You both looked at each other and shared a knowing smile, already knowing what was coming next.

#woso x reader #woso omegaverse #barca femeni #claudia pina x reader #mapi leon x reader #fridolina rolfo x reader #ingrid engen x reader #cata coll x reader #ellie roebuck x reader #alexia putellas x reader #aitana bonmati x reader #kika nazareth x reader

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its-avalon-08 · 1 year ago

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hi !! can you do headcanons max verstappen X senna’s daugther!reader?

thank uuuu

hii !!! if i were to imagine senna's daughter!reader she would be so talented. she isn't a driver because of her built up trauma. (im fully aware that the timelines don't add up, don't add logic into it <3) she is an aerodynamic engineer, mainly responsible for making the car. she is secretly in love with speed and racing.

max and y/n met when they were just kids. max was a menace on track and y/n was terrified of racing. she saw speeding cars as a reminder of her father's passing. being good friends, y/n has a tradition of kissing max's helmet as a feeble attempt to keep him safe.

they started dating in 2019, and have been together ever since. y/n being the absolute genius she is, continues to work in redbull and delivers top of the line car designs leading to the dominance as seen on track.

max leaves a single, perfect red tulip on y/n's desk every race weekend, a silent promise to return safely.

y/n hides little notes in max's helmet before qualifying, each one a technical insight phrased like a love letter.

max, despite his aversion to early mornings, wakes up before y/n on important presentations to make her breakfast, his way of calming her pre-work jitters.

y/n, who finds airplanes stressful, uses a calming app max downloaded for her whenever they travel together.

max, after a particularly grueling race weekend, finds y/n curled up on the couch with a book about aerodynamics. he joins her, listening intently as she explains a new concept she's been working on, his full attention the sweetest victory lap.

max knows how deeply the lack of a father figure affected her, causing under-confidence and a constant need of validation. max knows this and never stops giving her words of affirmations.

everyone of the grid adores y/n. they see her spirit and her beautiful face reflect senna's in so many ways. max is fiercely protective of y/n, often defending her from questions about her father and his death.

y/n hates jos verstappen from the bottom of her heart. she is not scared of yelling at him when he berates max. she whispers affirmations into max's ears after a bad race (which was rare but not impossible)

when max crashes, y/n is the first to suffer from the highest intensity of a panic attack. she shivers and trembles until max gets out safely. after the crash in 2021 with hamilton which caused max to fall over in the medical center, y/n angirly stormed towards the cheerful hamilton, shouting angrily.

here's what happened ↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓

the smile evaporated as y/n marched towards him. it wasn't a walk, it was a storm surge. "congratulations? you call pushing max off the track at 200 mph congratulations?" her voice, usually calm and collected, was a tightly leashed fury. lewis blinked, his smile morphing into something defensive. "it was a racing incident, y/n. we both went for the corner." her voice cracked. "racing incident? you call leaving him stranded on the gravel, risking his life, a racing incident? do you have any idea what it's like to watch someone you love walk away from a fireball?" the room held its breath. lewis's face paled. "y/n, i…" "no, you don't," she cut him off, her voice thick with emotion. "you don't get to pretend you know what it's like to see your dreams vanish in a cloud of smoke. you don't get to understand the terror of every single corner, every single race because you haven't lost anyone on this damn track!" tears welled up in her eyes, blurring the accusing stare she fixed on him. "max is more than a rival, lewis. he's a friend, a teammate, a human being. and today, you gambled with his life for a trophy." the silence stretched, suffocating. finally, lewis spoke, his voice devoid of its usual bravado. "y/n, i… i didn't…" "you didn't think," she finished the sentence for him, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. "just like some people never think about the consequences of their actions." turning on her heel, she stormed out of the room, leaving behind a stunned silence and a champion stripped of his celebratory air. as y/n reached the red bull garage, she found max emerging from the medical center, a sheepish grin on his face. relief washed over her, so strong it brought her to her knees. max rushed to her side, his concern a warm balm on her raw emotions. he held her close, whispering reassurances into her hair.

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

well i hope you liked it! thank you for sending in your request and do send more <3 happy reading!

leave a like! leave a note!

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

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animasola86 · 5 months ago

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LOST & FOUND 🫂 CH4

After agreeing to become their little girl, you are woken up by Mommy, who has special plans to ease you into your first day of your new life.

soft!Daddy!dom x Mommy!domme x little girl!reader

WARNINGS: F!Reader insert. Explicit sexual content. Mommy/Daddy kink. Dd/Md/lg dynamics. Pet names. Dom/sub undertones. Shared shower. Nudity. Vaginal fingering/assisted masturbation. “Self” care/makeover/waxing. Angst/humiliation. Hurt/comfort. (More notes under the cut!)

WORDS: 8k 🔷️ READ ON AO3 🔷️ 1–2–3–4–5–6 7–8–9–10–11–12

A/N: This chapter is a direct continuation of Chapter 2 and keeps focusing on Reader's new life as the Little Girl of Mommy and Daddy. All following chapters (unless stated otherwise) will follow the past-timeline and show how Reader ended up like she did in chapters 1 and 3. (For more info on Reader, check out the Notes in Chapter 1.) ❗ Please read THIS if you're confused about the tags I listed this under!

Chapter 3 🔷️ Chapter 4 🔷️ Chapter 5

Several months earlier

You woke up after that first night, completely knocked out and overwhelmed, to someone gently shaking you, lips pressing to your pillow-wrinkled cheek, a soft voice cooing for you to wake up. Mommy was there, and while your first instinct was to groan and turn back around and ask for five more minutes, not quite realizing where you were, she basically dragged you out of bed and into the bathroom.

While she certainly meant well, you felt very uncomfortable as she helped you out of the clothes you slept in and into the shower. You wanted to protest, against the fact that you were naked in front of a stranger, and also, didn't you just shower last night? With your mind still hazy with sleep, you wondered if rich people did it like this, showering every night and every morning, possibly several times a day? They definitely didn't have to worry about too much water consumption, apparently. But then the strangest thing happened: the woman you were supposed to call Mommy stripped down as well and stepped in after you, and your muddled mind was silenced immediately.

You were so surprised and more than taken aback by it that you just stood there, with your back to her, not even daring to take another look at her beautiful body. She was a bit taller than you and had all the right curves in all the right places, perfect skin, not a single hair anywhere on her body, except for her long black locks that she wore in a messy bun atop her head, and when she stepped behind you, her hands found your shoulders before she wrapped your unruly tresses around her fingers and brought them up in the same fashion, then slipped a hair tie over the mess to keep it in place.

Then she leaned past you (her perfect breasts pressing against your shoulder blades) and turned the shower on, and while you expected to be hit by either ice cold or scorching hot water, the temperature was perfect right away. That alone was a luxury you'd never experienced before. She angled the shower head to spray down below your chin to keep your head and hair dry.

You were still just standing there, baffled and embarrassed to be this close to such a gorgeous woman (though your main concern was how you felt like a literal child whose Mommy had to help them showering, but you figured that was part of her wanting to take care of you). As you woke up more and more, you became more and more aware and self-conscious of your neglected body. For months, self-care hadn't been an option for you, too much hassle, and for what? But now you wished you could have prepared yourself for this experience in some way, shaved maybe? Made yourself more presentable?

The question remained: what did this woman see in you to treat you like this?

Your anxiety spiked when you felt her soap-covered hands on your body, first on your arms, then she went straight to your breasts, cupping them, squeezing them lightly, rubbing the suds into your skin. You froze, holding your breath, clenching your hands into fists. It was such an intimate gesture, you weren't ready for it. A little sob escaped you, and you felt her pausing, before she leaned closer again, pressing her body against your backside.

“Are you okay, honey?” she asked directly into your ear, her velvety voice causing you to shiver deeply. “You gotta tell me if you don't like what I do, okay? This is for you. If you don't want it, I'll stop.”

You took a shuddering breath. “N-no,” you urged out. “I... I mean... it's okay... it's just... all so new...”

Her laugh echoed through the steam-filled room. “Never been touched by a woman before, sweet girl?”

“N-never had somebody... take care of me like this...” you whispered breathlessly, the thick air and her closeness making you dizzy.

You felt her lips on your cheek, the touch lingering as she spoke softly: “You better get used to this. We have so much love and care to give, you have no idea.”

It could have sounded like a threat, but you closed your eyes and nodded, leaning against her when she continued the gentle groping of your boobs. She chuckled again, bringing her lips down to your shoulder. Her hands moved lower eventually, rubbing over your stomach and down your hips, and you still couldn't move, you just endured (or silently enjoyed it?), but when you could feel her stepping around you, one of her hands slipping down your front while the other curved around your rear, you flinched badly.

Your feet squeaked on the tiled floor, and you almost lost your footing, but instead of getting away from her, she grabbed you a little harder, her hands on your waist, pulling you back, gently but firmly. Your chest was rising and falling faster, your heart nearly exploding behind your ribs. She shushed you, kissing along your neck as she returned her hands where she initially wanted to bring them.

“It's okay, sweetheart, let Mommy see, yes?” she cooed into your ear, and you stiffened, inhaling deeply and holding your breath as her hand brushed down your tense belly and directly between your legs.

You felt so embarrassed. You were not as spotless as she was, some would say natural, and while you let everything grow because you couldn't care about it anymore in the months of your slow downfall, you wished you could go back to not caring now. But you cared, you didn't want this woman to touch you in places nobody had touched in a very long time, yourself included, at least not this intimately.

You tried to squirm away, but she grabbed your ass in response, holding you in place. You let out a quiet yelp. “It's alright,” she said calmly, her lips back at your ear, the touch scorching hot. “I will not hurt you. I will not judge you. You are a beautiful girl, sweetheart, and nothing will ever hide that.” As she spoke, she started rubbing her fingers along your slit, a gentle touch, just a caress, every stroke of her hand accentuated by more soothing words. “You deserve to be loved, my sweet thing. Loved and touched and pampered. Do not be shy, do not be embarrassed. There's no need. You are beautiful. So beautiful...”

Her voice lulled you, made you relax into her ministrations, and as she finished her soothing pep talk, her fingers dipped between your labia, a little gasp escaped you, your lips parting, and before you knew it, she had caught it by pressing her mouth to yours, kissing you softly as she rubbed her fingertip slowly up and down until it prodded your entrance, and while her tongue pushed into your mouth, her digit pushed into your clenching cunt.

Your moan was swallowed by her own little inhale. Her other hand slid up your back until her palm was pressed to your neck, holding you steady as she continued to kiss and finger you, and all you could do was melt into her caresses, meeting her tongue with your own, gliding your lips against hers, even grinding your hips into her hand. Your head was spinning, breathless and overwhelmed as you were, and the more she touched you, the less vulnerable you felt.

The way she moved her fingers (she seemed to have added another one) inside you, slow and careful, pressing as deep as her knuckles allowed, fingernails scraping gently along your tight walls, it all felt very good very quickly. Your eyes fluttered shut, your breaths rasping out of you, new air barely able to reach your lungs as she kept plunging her tongue into your mouth. You felt like floating, surrounded by warm water and even warmer steam, pressed against a soft body, her hand closing around your nape, and all those touches sent more tingles down your spine, shivers and shudders, that all gathered low in your stomach, and lower, making your clit throb.

And it was when she suddenly pressed her thumb against that sensitive bundle of nerves that you yelped against her mouth, eyes flying open, a strange assortment of white and black spots dancing at the edge of your vision. Your legs trembled badly the more she rubbed at your clit, her fingers still plunging in and out, a little curl to them now, hitting different spots deep inside you. You stared at her, or tried to, she looked blurry, and you tried to blink your eyes back into focus, but instead a loud moan was ripped from your throat when she moved her fingers and her thumb in a clawing motion, pressing directly against your clit and g-spot.

You shook, your limbs twitching, and your hands found her waist for support as you gasped for air like a fish out of water, your eyes rolling back, your head reeling, and for a moment you felt as if you'd left your own body, floating away, without a care in the world...

You came back when she pulled her fingers out and kept caressing your sensitive labia, and every brush against your hood gave you another deep shudder. You clung to her, your forehead resting on her shoulder, your breaths labored and raw, your heart thundering in your chest. She rubbed your back with her free hand, soothing you with words you couldn't understand. The first that did make it through the cotton in your head, dug themselves deep into your soul:

“Good girl.”

A smile appeared on your trembling lips, the praise like an additional caress down your spine. You found yourself hugging the woman you barely knew and somehow trusted a lot more now, your arms snaking around her waist as you pressed yourself into her. She embraced you gently, holding you as the water sprayed against your shoulder. You felt her lips on your forehead, her exhale warm against your skin.

The rest of the shower was a blur. She kept washing you, rubbing her hands over your warm skin, and she even nudged you to touch her as well, which was yet another overwhelming experience as you weighed her big breasts in your small hands.

She continued to be gentle and patient with you, giving you time when you needed it, but also pushed you a little to get you out of your old habits. As embarrassing as it should have been, it was also refreshing and comforting to know that even if you might fall back into your dark hole whenever new and old doubts would resurface, Mommy was there to pull you back out.

By the time you were out of the shower and wrapped in a large, fluffy towel, a knock sounded on the door. You froze, but the other woman just huffed a sigh and walked to open it, still as naked as before, no shame whatsoever. Your eyes widened when you saw the tall man appearing in the door frame, his eyes first grazing the woman before they wandered to you. He smiled softly.

“Good morning,” Daddy said, his smile widening when he saw you blushing deeply, pulling the towel tighter around your body. He looked back at Mommy then, raising an eyebrow. “You beat me to it, huh?” he mused.

The woman laughed, nudging his bearded chin with her index finger. “Gotta be faster, old man,” she teased with a soft laugh.

You watched the two silently, frozen to the spot, acutely aware of just wearing a towel, your exposed skin warming up badly as your eyes wandered from Mommy's naked backside to Daddy's tall frame behind her. He wasn't wearing a suit today, but a tight shirt and formfitting sweatpants, and his hair was tousled, cheeks a little flushed. Had he been running? Probably, with a body like that –

“How are you feeling today, darling?” he addressed you, ripping you from your thoughts. Your face heated up even more.

“Really good,” you whispered shyly, chewing on your bottom lip as you met his gaze.

“I'm glad,” he replied, tilting his head slightly, his eyes crinkling.

“And she'll feel even better today. I'm taking her to the salon,” Mommy interrupted the moment by pressing a hand to Daddy's chest. “You can have her tomorrow.”

He sighed, bringing his gaze back to the woman in front of him. “Don't do anything she doesn't want to do, okay?” he told her quietly. “Don't scare her away on her first day...”

She laughed, turning back to you. Your heart skipped a beat. “Don't worry, we already established our bond, didn't we, honey?”

You lowered your eyes, your blush spreading all over your shoulders. “Yes, Mommy,” you whispered. It still felt a little weird to call her that, but seeing her reaction to it made up for the awkwardness. She mewled softly and turned around fully, extending her arms until she could pull you into a tight hug.

“My sweet girl,” she cooed, kissing your hairline. You leaned against her warm body, meeting Daddy's curious gaze over her shoulder.

“You'll be okay,” he told you with a gentle smile. “But remember: you can say no, we will not force you to do anything you don't feel comfortable with. Won't we?” he added pointedly, making Mommy turn her head to him. She gave him a smirk and a wink, and he sighed.

She let go of you then, taking a step back to him. “Go take your own shower now,” she told him, poking his chest. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her a little closer, eyeing her darkly.

“Don't tell me what to do,” he whispered.

“Make me,” she replied with a chuckle.

You watched them with growing curiosity, still wondering what kind of relationship these two actually had. For a moment they just stared at each other, before Mommy leaned up on her toes and pressed her full lips against his.

“Let us have our Girls Day, okay, papito?”

“Fine,” he said with an exhale, his other hand moving along her bare shoulders up to her nape before he grabbed the messy bun on top of her head and pulled her back a little. “But I mean it: I still want to recognize her later.”

Her turn to sigh. “Of course, don't worry,” she replied, putting her hand on his cheek, giving it a soft pat. “Unless she wants a complete makeover. This is about her,” she added, turning her head back to you. “Isn't it, sweet thing?”

You blushed when the attention was back on you.

“We'll do whatever makes you happy, okay, honey?”

“Okay,” you mouthed a little breathlessly. Your eyes wandered between the two adults (the longer you stood watching them, the smaller and younger you felt, no matter the fact that you were technically an adult yourself). You weren't used to all this attention, but it grew on you. It made you feel warm and seen (even if you'd prefer to wear more clothes while being looked at).

Daddy let go of Mommy then, taking a half-step into the bathroom. “Can I get a hug before I leave you in Mommy's care, sweetheart?” he asked quietly, extending a hand towards you.

Your body's immediate reaction was a sudden jerk, a clear indication that you wanted to sink into his strong arms and never emerge from them again, but your mind was still a little timid, and then there was Mommy, stepping between you and the tall man.

“Get away, you're all gross and sweaty. I just cleaned her!” she said, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

He lowered his hand slowly, his eyes still on you. There was a darkness within them, a strange look that made your stomach twist in a weird way, warm and tense, like a throb, a clench, an itch. “I... I don't mind,” you heard yourself stammering. Before you knew it, you took a step forward, your bare feet padding on the tiles, and when his smile widened, you extended a hand to put it onto his big palm. At the same time as he pulled you closer, you heard Mommy sighing. She stepped away, and you hoped she wouldn't be too mad, but you couldn't resist him – and the urge growing inside your own body.

He wrapped his big arms around your shoulders, and you found yourself pressed to his chest. It was warm, his scent filling your nostrils, filling your head, a mixture of body wash and sweat, a masculine smell that made you dizzy, but in a good way. You carefully snaked your arms around his waist and held onto him, closing your eyes for a moment.

“My sweet girl,” he whispered, pressing his lips to the top of your head. “Have a good time today, okay?”

“Okay, Daddy,” you murmured into him.

He squeezed you a little more at that, his inhale loud and almost surprised. As he embraced you, you suddenly felt another presence behind you. Mommy's arms joined yours in encircling the tall man as she pressed herself into you. His arms loosened, leaving you, pulling her closer against your back. You gasped a little as they hugged you tightly, and you would have never expected to feel this comfortable in a Mommy-and-Daddy-sandwich.

It was certainly strange to go from nobody caring about you, to having these two people taking such an interest in you. And they weren't lying. They had a lot of love and care to give, you could feel it in the way they held you and spoke to you. And you'd only met them yesterday! How was this possible?

But you didn't want to question it, you just wanted to melt into their warmth and strength, enjoy the moment, neither look back nor ahead. It felt good. Good enough to bring tears into your eyes. A little sob escaped you, and you buried your face firmer into Daddy's chest. Mommy let go first, and before you knew it, Daddy's hands were on your shoulders, leaning you back a little.

Looking up, you realized your vision was blurry. As you tried to blink your eyes into focus, you felt his fingers wiping at your wet cheeks, a concerned look on his handsome face.

“I... I'm fine,” you murmured quickly, sniffling quietly. “These are... happy tears...”

His relieved exhale hit your forehead before he leaned in and pressed his lips to the corner of your mouth. Meeting his gaze, you couldn't help it, you turned your head a little bit and used his closeness to brush your lips fully against his. His hands held you still for a moment, the kiss, if you could call it that, a lingering press, before he leaned back with a deep sigh.

“Sorry, darling, today's Mommy's day,” he whispered, giving you a wink. “We can expand on this tomorrow, okay?” As his fingers curled around your ear, his thumb rubbed over your bottom lip. “Trust me, I can't wait...”

You gave him a shy smile, your face properly burning now. He eventually let go of you fully and stepped back. Mommy put her hands on your shoulders. “See you later, Daddy,” she cooed.

“Bye, ladies, have fun,” he said with a little wave, his eyes fixed on you.

“Bye, Daddy,” you whispered, watching how his eyes sparkled when he winked at you, before he turned around and left the room.

You were still buzzing, basically floating, so when Mommy told you to wash your face and brush your teeth and use the toilet, you did as she told you, ignoring how degrading this should have felt, being told to do the most basic things, things a person your age should be able to do on her own. But it also felt good, having someone push you to do so, and she didn't sound condescending or mocking, but caring and sweet now that you were alone again.

Once you were all ready for the day, you stood, still in your towel, in the middle of the room (your room) while she pulled out various clothes, watching you as she did so, assessing your build and size, and in the end she chose a pair of pink panties for you and a matching bra that was a little loose but she assured you to buy better fitting things for you soon. You wondered then who all those clothes belonged to, they looked too girly to have been hers, and the wide array of different sizes also made you curious.

She looked at you as she held a knee-length pink dress to your chest. “We bought these for our old subs,” she said nonchalantly as if reading your mind. “I told you we've been looking for the right girl for a while. And we tried, tested a few, but none of them would really fit our needs, you know? You, however,” she added, putting the dress down to place her hands on your shoulders as she looked down at you with a soft smile, “you are what we're looking for. I can already tell. You belong here, and soon we'll fill this closet with your own things, and only yours, okay?”

You stared at her, your throat tight. Knowing that other girls had spent their time in this room, with these people, with your Mommy and Daddy, made you feel strangely small and insignificant. Like one of many. And you wondered when they would realize that you might not fit their needs either so they could move to the next girl. But you still hoped beyond hope that what she said was true. “So... so you won't... send me away again?”

“Oh, sweet thing, of course not, unless you want to leave, but I really hope you'll stay with us. We can give you anything you need, and you'd make us so happy too!” She pulled you against her bare chest (she still hadn't bothered putting on any clothes and you really envied her confidence), her arms tight around your shoulders as you gingerly hugged her back, feeling the soft slope of her spine under your clammy palms.

She kissed your forehead and let go again, smiling down at you. You felt the need to reassure her. “I'll... stay, I want to stay,” you whispered, biting your lip as a little smile played around the corner of your mouth.

Her hands found your face. “I'm glad,” she breathed, her lips brushing against yours, and then she really kissed you, a hard press, a confident lick against the seam of your mouth before you indulged her and kissed her back, timidly moving your tongue and lips against hers. “You taste so sweet,” she muttered, sighing deeply as she moved her lips down your jaw to your neck, giving your pulse a little suck that made you flinch a little. “I can't wait to taste more of you...”

Her words sent another deep shudder down your spine that ultimately gathered right in your throbbing clit. You had no idea what it was about this woman, about this whole situation, but anything she did to you, any touch, any word, made you feel like you never felt before. It was all warm and cozy, but it could turn hot and overwhelming in the blink of an eye. You slipped from feeling comfortable to completely aroused, back and forth, and it should be weird, but it wasn't. It felt right.

Mommy gave you another press of her lips to your neck before she leaned away, letting go of you to pick up the pink dress. “Alright, let's get ready for our Girls Day, shall we?” she said happily, shoving the dress into your hands. “Get dressed, I'll do the same, and I'll meet you here soon, okay?”

“Yes, Mommy,” you whispered, enduring/savoring another tight hug and a squeal from her, before she did what she told you and left the room, as naked as she was, her hips swaying as she went.

Later, you sat next to her in the back of the car again. She had put on a dark blue blouse and wide-legged pants, the pointy tips of her high heels poking out from the wide hem as she crossed her legs and leaned back into her seat, her hand on your thigh as she smiled at you. You smiled back shyly, feeling rather small next to her, in your soft pink dress, your magenta tights and those white little sneakers she gave you.

You had never cared much about being girly or wearing bright colors before, but it felt okay when somebody else told you to do so. The way she looked at you, so proud and happy, made it all worth it, even if you didn't quite feel like yourself anymore. But that was the point of this, wasn't it? To get you out of your old habits and show you something new, a new side of yourself. It could only get better from here, right?

Well.

Before it got better, it got a lot worse when you found yourself in a small room with a woman telling you to strip for her. Mommy was there too, but the stranger made you feel very uncomfortable. You were in one of those beauty salons you'd never seen the inside of. The woman seemed nice enough, or rather passive more likely, because it was her job to groom and take care of other people and she probably saw many different kinds of women each day, but you couldn't shake the feeling of a deep-rooted shame as you pulled your dress over your head, exposing yourself, feeling vulnerable and embarrassed and very insecure to show this stranger your neglected body.

Mommy helped you, her eager hands pulling down your tights (and panties) in one swift move, and you gasped and squirmed, trying to cover yourself, but she shushed you quietly. “It's okay, no need to be shy. I'm right here, you can do this.” You inhaled sharply, trying to focus on her as you stepped out of your tights, watching her put your clothes onto a nearby chair before she snaked her hands around your torso and unclasped your bra, adding it to the pile.

“Sit down please,” the other woman told you. When you looked at her, you noticed her almost bored looking gaze, as if she indeed did this several times a day. Nevertheless, you didn't, never had done this before, and when you scooted up on the reclined chair covered in a soft towel, you felt close to tears.

Clamping your thighs together, you put your hands on your breasts (wondering why you had to expose them in the first place when this was about trimming your body hair), when you felt Mommy's hands on yours as she leaned over you from behind. “Relax, baby girl,” she told you, turning her head to kiss your cheek. “Just relax. Lean back, close your eyes, and let the nice lady do her job, okay?”

And you tried. She kept her hands on your chest to ground you, giving your boobs gentle squeezes whenever you flinched or winced or squirmed as the nice lady began working on you. She started on your legs, and while you thought she might shave them as you would have done, she waxed them, and it felt strange when she applied the warm wax, but even worse when she suddenly ripped the sheets she pressed down onto your leg away again, causing you to squeak and almost kick her in the face.

Mommy kept close to you, hugging you, soothing you, her fingers drawing distracting circles around your nipples. You turned your head to her, your face flushed, watching her soft smile, the twinkle in her eyes, and somehow you made it through the torture of having your legs waxed. But then you felt a nudge against your thigh.

Looking back to the woman, you noticed her adding something to the chair you were resting on. Some sort of stirrups, and you realized you'd have to spread your legs and put them on there, because she –

– was about to wax your sex next. Oh dear God.

A whimper escaped you, your thighs pressing even tighter together, and you looked back at Mommy, pleading with her. She shook her head and caressed your cheek. “It's okay, honey, it won't hurt for long.” But it will hurt, you wanted to tell her, your eyes widening. “You're a big girl, aren't you? You can take it.”

And somehow her well-meant words made you feel even worse. Shame flooded your entire body, your blush spreading down to your chest. Your legs were still burning and irritated, the skin tight, and to imagine the same procedure between your thighs? But being treated like a little girl in front of this stranger gave you a weird boost of confidence, reverse-psychology-style. Because you were not a little girl, you were a grown ass woman, you should be able to deal with this! Clenching your jaw, you inhaled deeply, looking up at the ceiling as you lifted your legs and put them into the contraptions of the chair.

You forced yourself to ignore the cold breeze against your pussy lips, the way the woman stepped closer, the way her gloved fingers applied the wax over the coarse hairs of your mound. Your own hands clamped down on the edge of the seat, your breaths labored as you waited for the inevitable pain to shoot through your body. But when it came, you still jerked, a scream escaping your tight throat that was quickly silenced as you felt Mommy's hands on your face, making you look at her.

You felt tears burning in your eyes, the throbbing pain between your legs only part of the sudden waterworks. Her gaze was stern and hard, and you couldn't look away. You kept chewing on your bottom lip, wondering if you'd disappointed her by being so squeamish about this. If she'd change her mind about you being the perfect one. As the first tear rolled down your cheek, her gaze softened, her thumb tracing the path it took to your jaw.

She leaned in then, pressing her lips against your forehead, while another jolt of pain ripped through you as more of your hair was pulled out. You flinched, but you also forced yourself not to scream again. You did bite your tongue and tasted blood, but you didn't want to show her how much you suffered. She had brought you here, probably spent quite a sum to give you this treatment (and you were in dire need of it too, even if you couldn't really handle the pain and shame it brought with it), and you knew you should be grateful. And you were, you would be, afterwards, when the pain was gone and your skin smooth again, but right now all you could do was cry quietly and endure.

You felt dizzy by the end of it, barely able to move your limbs. So you let the woman arrange you how she needed you, noticing that Mommy had shifted behind the chair, looking down at you, holding your hands above your head as your arms were being lifted, more wax came down and more pain throbbed through you, your armpits burning like they'd never done before. Through bleary eyes you watched her, squeezing her hands back, feeling lightheaded and disoriented.

And then it was over, finally. Someone pulled you off the chair and onto trembling legs, Mommy helped you get dressed again. Your skin was warm and tight, but as smooth as it had ever been. The shame of the procedure was just a little flame in the back of your mind now, somehow you felt too numb to care anymore.

Once you were in your tights and dress again, you were guided into another room, onto another chair, and while Mommy sat down on a stool next to you, grabbing your hand and holding it tightly, you felt a new pair of hands on your head, fingers loosening the messy bun on top before slipping through the wild strands. You inhaled deeply and leaned into the chair, letting them do their thing. It hurt when they brushed through the unruly mess that was your hair, it hurt when they plugged your eyebrows into shape, it hurt and stung and the shame flared up from time to time, but you tried to focus on Mommy and her beautiful face, as she watched you closely, never not paying attention to you.

That might have been the weirdest thing. The way she always watched you, so attentively. Nobody had ever looked at you like this, not even your own mother, who had always been busy with other things, your siblings, one of her husbands, her phone, the TV, anything else, while you tried to tell her about that drawing you made in preschool that day. You remember that you eventually gave up telling her anything, and the older you got, the more you distanced yourself from her, because it wasn't worth it anymore. She just didn't seem to care, and she did a very bad job at hiding it also.

But this woman, the one you met yesterday, looked at you with so much care in her pretty eyes, held your hand between hers, warm and gentle but firm, showing you she was there. She cared, she barely knew you, but she cared, and it brought another tear into your eye that you quickly wiped with your free hand, before giving her a brave smile as your head was jerked back a little again. And because she cared, you cared too, you wanted to show her that you were indeed a big girl, that this didn't hurt, that it wasn't uncomfortable, that you could endure.

This was for your own good anyway (even if it felt like torture). She was trying to make you your own person again, bring you back into the world that had spat you out so ruthlessly.

Eventually, you relaxed into whatever was happening around you. Your eyes fluttered closed, your hand gave hers the occasional squeeze, and you just lay there, thinking about your new life, thinking back to the tall man waiting his turn back home (your home... what a twist), and you wondered how he would spend the day with you. Would he do Dad-things with you? Take you to some sports event? Watch TV with you? Go fishing, maybe? You realized you had no idea what a father would even do with his kid, because neither your biological father nor any of your various step-fathers had ever shown any interest in you.

Then again, maybe you shouldn't focus on the Dad-things, but the Daddy-things. Because quite frankly, you didn't want this man to be your father, you wanted him to be there for you, hold you and kiss you, be something more to you, you wanted to sit on his lap again, lean against him, feel his warmth and strength, and his hands all over you...

A little gasp escaped you as you felt your core clenching around nothing, a little throb, then a little drip into your underwear. It had been a long while since you were attracted to anyone in any way, and somehow, after just a few moments with that man you knew practically nothing about, you felt your heart beating faster just thinking about him. But when you opened your eyes, coming back from your mind to notice the woman still holding your hand, you realized it wasn't just him.

You also liked her, the way she touched you, kissed you, how confident she was, how she made you feel both small and comfortable at the same time. You had never questioned your sexuality, never really considered yourself one or the other or anything else for that matter (you had a boyfriend in high school, and girlfriends you'd play around with, but it was never as intense and eye-opening as whatever you were experiencing right now).

It was all new and exciting, and knowing you had the attention of a beautiful woman and a handsome man was just mind-boggling to you. It felt like a dream, and not even the throbbing pain still coursing through your body seemed to be able to wake you up from it.

At the end of it all, you sat in the car again, next to Mommy, who still held your hand. After getting a new haircut (only a little trim), she'd taken you to the nail salon, and together you chose a subtle pink for your nails. They remained short and natural, but it felt so much better knowing they added to the overall transformation of your once neglected body. You did feel like a new person, a new girl, a young woman, ready to begin a new chapter of her life.

The trunk of the car was full of bags, filled with dresses and skirts, blouses and shirts, sweaters and cardigans, socks and tights and a variety of shoes, all of it girly, elegant, but also comfortable and chic, a whole closet full of things that only fit you. Buying underwear was another ordeal with Mommy, but in the end she found you beautiful pieces, ranging from cute and modest to really extravagant and barely covering anything.

And you felt good seeing yourself in them, confident despite all those areas you didn't particularly like – because apparently there was underwear that didn't have to be too loose or too tight, like the ones you'd bought before, the cheap ones. These new ones hugged your body like a second skin, accentuated the good parts and hid the bad ones, making you feel so much better about yourself.

During your shopping trip, Mommy bought you lunch and later a milkshake, walking with her hand around yours. While she did most of the talking, small talk mostly that you appreciated very much, you felt more and more at ease with her. Yesterday she'd been a stranger, and now, she was your Mommy, someone who took care of you, who laughed with you, who made you feel comfortable.

When the car returned to the mansion, the adventures of the day weighed you down more than you thought. You were tired, still a little sore from the waxing, but overall you were happier than you'd been in ages. Mommy helped you out of the car and pulled you towards the entrance door, while the driver started carrying all those bags into the house. In the kitchen, you were met by a delicious smell, and a large frame that made your heart beat faster.

“You've returned,” Daddy greeted you (looking so incredibly handsome in a white button-up with the sleeves rolled up over his strong forearms), putting down a dish towel before he approached you. Mommy let go of your hand and gave you a gentle nudge that you didn't really need, because in the next second you had fallen against the tall man's chest, your arms tight around his waist. “Aww, did you miss Daddy, baby girl?” he cooed, embracing you just as tightly.

You mumbled your confirmation against him, closing your eyes as you just leaned into him, no longer wondering why it felt so easy to be this close to these people. It just felt right. The way they looked at you, treated you, paid attention to you, all the trouble they went through for you. It was special, and you embraced it by embracing them, knowing how easy it was to please them with just a few words and a few simple displays of affection.

Eventually, he leaned you back by holding your shoulders, his eyes wandering over your flushed face and your bouncy new hair. His fingers stroked along your tresses, twirling the ends playfully. “Looks really good on you,” he told you, and you smiled shyly. “You're even more beautiful now, sweet girl,” he added quietly as he bent down to press his lips against your cheek.

You squirmed away with a soft giggle when he nuzzled your jaw, his hands roaming down your body to tease at your ribs. You fell into a full-on laughing fit when he continued tickling you, digging his fingers into your sides, while his teeth grazed along your pulse, your own hands grasping helplessly at his forearms.

“What a sweet sound,” he breathed against you before he stopped and grabbed your waist, lifting you effortlessly until his arms rested just beneath your rear, holding you up. You put your hands on his shoulders, looking down at him with your cheeks aflame and tears burning in your eyes, still smiling at him. “My sweet little pumpkin.”

You scrunched your nose at the nickname, making him grin even wider at you.

“Can I call you pumpkin, sweet girl?” he asked quietly, shifting you on his arms.

You considered it, wondering how he even got to calling you that, but then couldn't find a reason for him not to call you so. It did sound rather nice. “You can call me anything you want, Daddy,” you whispered breathlessly, your heart beating even faster.

“Yeah?”

You nodded, biting your lip. He turned you both around then and sat you down on the counter, leaning on his arms as he caged you in. His face was inches away from yours, his hot breath ghosting your lips. You watched him with growing anticipation, that tension in your stomach intensifying with every rapid heartbeat. He leaned closer, his nose brushing against yours, his eyes boring into your own, so intense, so hungry, and he tilted his head, your lips parted in preparation –

“So what's for dinner?” cut Mommy's voice through your special moment.

Daddy closed his eyes and leaned back slowly, exhaling loudly. You watched him, still holding your breath, your hands curled tight around the edge of the counter, your knees pressed together so hard your legs were trembling. He brushed his hands over your thighs, fingers teasing between them only for a second before he was gone, stepping away to the other side of the kitchen island, while Mommy took his place in front of you.

You saw them exchanging a long gaze, something dark glinting in Mommy's eyes. Her hands found your knees, and without looking at you, she forced them apart with a strength you hadn't expected from her. Gasping softly, you stared at her, and when her hands disappeared under the skirt of your dress, you stiffened. She looked back at you then, her eyes as intense as Daddy's had been.

“Girls Day isn't over yet, sweetheart,” she whispered, tilting her head before she leaned closer, brushing her full lips against yours. Her fingers moved around your rear before they slipped under the waistband of your tights. Your heart skipped several beats as she started pulling them down, and you squirmed on the counter, struggling between allowing her the motion and fighting it.

“You should give her a break,” sounded Daddy's voice from behind her, and when you looked past her as she lowered her head with a deep sigh, you saw concern and something else in his dark eyes.

“Don't tell me what to do,” Mommy whispered quietly, slowly turning around enough to look at him. Her hands were still halfway down your tights, her body wedged between your spread legs.

He stared at her, narrowing his eyes. “It's her first day, babe,” he said, the muscle in his jaw twitching.

She gritted her teeth, looking away until her suddenly cold eyes found yours. Your breath hitched in your throat. “But Mommy's hungry,” she muttered, licking her upper lip. You swallowed thickly, watching the exchange with bated breath, not quite understanding what was going on.

“Have dinner then,” he replied from behind her. “Greta made ravioli.”

Slowly, she slipped her hands from inside your tights and grabbed the waistband, shifting you back into them with a jerk. You gasped softly, scooting back on the counter. Then she gripped your chin and made you look at her. “Fine,” she said quietly. “Let's have dinner. I'll have you for dessert then, hm, sweet cheeks?”

She pulled you closer to her and smashed her lips against yours, inhaling deeply before leaning back again, letting go of you abruptly and stepping away, her heels clicking over the hardwood floor. And you sat there, on the counter, with your lips parted and trembling, confusion washing over you as you followed her with wide eyes.

Daddy extended a hand to you and, once you grabbed it hesitantly, helped you off the counter. Still holding your hand, he bent down to whisper softly: “Don't mind her, she gets cranky when she's hungry.” He winked at you then, squeezing your fingers.

You blinked up at him in even bigger confusion, but eventually you let it slide and let him pull you through the kitchen and into the dining room.

“By the way, I haven't asked before, so I told our chef to make something vegan. Do you eat meat, pumpkin? Do you have any allergies?” Daddy asked quietly as he pulled out a chair and motioned you to sit down.

“I, uh, I do, eat meat, I mean. And no allergies I know of,” you replied with a stammer, your legs still shaking a little.

“Good, that's perfect,” he mused and walked around you, sitting down at the head of the long table, while Mommy sat across from you, studying her nails.

Between you was a large plate covered by one of those fancy metal hoods, and when Daddy lifted it, a heavenly smell distracted you from the strange tension around you. There were three different types of handmade ravioli, big ones, not those tiny ones you'd eat straight out of the can, they looked so fancy and professional and delicious of all things, and when you listened to his explanation of which was which, you couldn't decide which one to choose, so you took one of each, earning you a little laugh from Daddy.

“That's a good appetite,” he praised, taking one for himself before he held out the prongs to Mommy. She turned her head to him, her eyes narrowed, and when she closed her fingers around his, you could see her knuckles blanching.

“Shopping makes hungry, you know?” she said pointedly, snatching the prongs out of his grip to put two ravioli onto her own plate.

He just sighed and lifted his fork. “Well, dig in, and again, welcome to your new home, pumpkin,” he added with a nod towards you.

You smiled shyly, nodding back. “Thank you,” you mumbled timidly, before you inhaled deeply, looking over the table to Mommy who seemed to poke at her food with quite the disinterest. “Really, thank you for everything, Mommy,” you said a little louder. “I had a great time today.”

She looked up then, her hard gaze softening immediately. Her hand reached across the table to brush against yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Me too, cariño,” she whispered, a small smile grazing her lips.

Seeing her relax again made your heart beat a little faster.

“Aren't you two the sweetest,” Daddy mused, his fork halfway up to his mouth. “Eat up now before it gets cold.”

Mommy pulled her hand away and focused back on her plate, ignoring Daddy's comment. You looked at him, feeling your cheeks burning up when he gave you another wink, before you turned back to your food as well.

Your mind was reeling from all the impressions of this single day. It was still something of a blur, a dreamlike experience, and occasionally a few doubts would poke through the cotton in your head, making you wonder when you'd wake up again. But you didn't. It seemed real enough. A real dinner, with real food, and real people. People who watched you, who offered you more, who reached out to scrape sauce off your cheek.

It had been twenty-four hours, and yet it felt as if you'd known these people way longer. The way they cared for you made it all so much easier. It was a dream, but a dream come true. And somehow you knew that there was a lot more on the horizon.

Chapter 3 🔷️ Chapter 4 🔷️ Chapter 5

End notes: Probably should have mentioned it earlier, but the whole waxing/makeover scene is only to show how Reader's depression made it impossible for her to take care of herself, it's not to shame anyone choosing to have body hair, because that is of course a choice. Please do not take offense in Mommy's ideals, she just wants to make Reader feel pretty in her own, slightly controlling way (that could be considered a bit dubcon if you squint, but really, Reader just isn't in a state of mind where she knows what she wants yet, so this is all some good-natured nudging).

Thank you for reading! New chapter every Saturday!

Up next: You are back in Daddy's arms, and he has his own special plans for you...

MASTERLIST 🔷️ AO3 🔷️ ORIGINAL WORKS

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bad-system · 3 months ago

Text

who and where? — let's talk KCD3

disclaimer: this post is a continuation of my previous KCD3 posts on speculation of the events and lore that i'd like to see explored in the next installment(s) of the KCD story. these are only speculations born of my own biased narrative and hopeful bastardizations of real events. this is not representative of ALL the real historical persons and events as there is either info missing on them, they were altered by WH for the sake of the game or i'm plain wrong. PS: i am not a historian. i just like history.

PART: 1 2 3 4 5

_____________________

the part i've been looking forward to the most!

in this post, i'll be going over the most likely locations that will appear in KCD3 according to the real historical timeline and i'll be supporting these speculations with things that were hinted at in KCD2. and we'll be using some real historical maps!

the who:

the main antagonists i believe we will be seeing in KCD3 are the following:

Heinrich III von Rosenberg

Sigismund of Luxembourg (again)

Albrecht IV of Austria (?)

Erik

the new allies we might meet are the following:

Jan Sokol of Lamberg

Matěj Vůdce (Matthew the Leader)

King Wenceslaus IV

the where

the main locations i believe were most hinted at in KCD2 were the following:

Podiebrad

Kolin

Znojmo (Znojmo castle)

Prague (partial?)

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so let's start with the who!

so far in the story, king Wenceslaus IV has merely been a name without a face, unlike Sigismund who not only got screen time in KCD1 & KCD2, but also a significant role in the main quest (and in the credits). meanwhile, Wenceslaus has been pushed off screen as we fight for the very same king. which, i guess, was an authentic experience for the people of Bohemia at the time as well.

however, it was in november of 1403. that king Wenceslaus was freed from Vienna with help from none other than our John II of Liechtenstein. i believe that this might be a cutscene we will be seeing likely in the prologue of KCD3 rather than a playable quest due to the fact that Vienna is so far. i believe that if they choose to make this a non-playable cutscene then it would allow the game to advance onto 1404. and its relevant events.

now, i fully believe that we will be seeing Dry Devil, aka Hynek of Kunštát again if the game will indeed be playable in 1404. the reason for that is that there is a relevant event that occurs in the town of Znojmo, or more precisely, Znojmo castle. in 1404. king Sigismund along with Albrecht IV of Austria lead a siege against Hynek and Jan Sokol of Lamberg in Znojmo castle, during which Albrecht was allegedly poisoned and died of dysentery which spread throughout the camp, and even Sigismund was apparently at the death's door.

anyone else see a perfect chance for the involvement of our professional bastard meddler? not only that, but the geography of the area looks very fun. i also believe this would be a convenient event to cover in the game as it's historically pretty vague which would allow WH to have more liberty while writing it.

the next person on our list is Heinrich III von Rosenberg. yes, those Rosenbergs. that name has been present ever since KCD1, if you remember the knight Ulrich of Passau sent to investigate the forging of silver coins in Sasau monastery on behalf of the Rosenbergs.

in the next installment, in KCD2 Rosenbergs get mentioned again. they were the most powerful members of the League of Lords (and one of the founders) and the biggest opposition to then king Wenceslaus IV.

in fact, there is a Sigismund affiliated person in his camp called Ditrich Katz who is wearing prominently designed couters bearing the coat of arms of what i believe are Rosenbergs. i also couldn't find a real person bearing that name anywhere, so it is likely that he was created by WH as an original character, who is perhaps representing Rosenberg's interests within the army (which wouldn't be far-fetched at all considering Heinrich's position as the royal military burgrave of Prague).

i believe the Rosenberg crest is etched into the inner elbow of Ditrich's* couters. there is a possibility that the design bears similarities to that of the lords of Hradec, but i believe this one to be more likely Rosenberg related due to Katz's distinctly red colour scheme. source: KDC2

so why is he so important to the sequel(s)?

besides the fact that he was one of king Wenceslaus' biggest enemies, we can also see his banner flying among Sigismund's army during the sacking of Skalitz.

i very kindly circled the banners for you. source: KCD1

you'd honestly think Henry would have a bigger incentive to go after this guy rather than Von Bergow.

there is also an unconfirmed but still very interesting theory that Jan Žižka served Rosenbergs under a false name during a brief period, which makes his efforts of destroying Rosenberg assets starting in 1406.* very funny. i say 1406. only because that was the first time he started appearing in the Rosenberg's black book (acta negra maleficorum) of the Rosenberg estate as an accused bandit. this means his hostilities against Rosenbergs could have started as early as 1404. for the sake of the narrative convenience (wink wink nudge nudge WH?). jokes aside, the lands surrounding Trocnov, Žižka's home, were often under pressure from Rosenberg estates, so i could see his incentives against Rosenbergs easily starting before 1406. because of that regardless of the convenience of the narrative.

whew!

and if you recall the scene where Istvan Toth is sending Erik on his merry way to Malešov, you can hear him mentioning Senitz (Senice).

source: KCD2

i was briefly debating which Senitz/Senice he was talking about, but i took the liberty of visualizing the route from Trosky to Malešov for your viewing pleasure and found one Senice along the route.

(note: this is a modern route using modern roads as per google maps info because i do not have access to a more detailed map of 1400s central Bohemia. it is only an approximate of Erik's route at the time but i think it still gives you a good sense of his path. 90km/56mi.)

so that was another Rosenberg mention. i think it's safe to say that we will be encountering Heinrich III von Rosenberg in the next game.

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and now the allies!

i believe Dry Devil and John II of Liechstenstein will be making an appearance again, and alongside them most likely Jan Sokol of Lamberg.

there hasn't been much proof that suggests we will be seeing him in a sequel, but i don't believe his KCD codex entry mentioning Znojmo in 1404. is a coincidence.

and again, there is the mention of Rosenbergs. i believe that KCD3 will either include the events of 1404. OR it will contain the events of 1404. and timeskip into 1409. because that was when Jan Sokol of Lamberg, Matěj Vůdce and Racek Kobyla waged a guerilla campaign against the Rosenberg family on behalf of king Wenceslaus IV. two pretty relevant periods, i'd say.

as for Matěj Vůdce, aka Matthew the Leader; people have been speculating that the Matthew we encounter as Henry while recruiting Dry Devil's old band is the Matthew. or just another Matthew. i couldn't find the exact year when Jan Žižka met Matthew before the more commonly cited 1409. so i can't say for sure. (however, i'd like to think that a figure that important wouldn't be an easily killable NPC.)

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and now let's go into the where's!

i promise this section will be shorter and more illustrated than the previous one. reminder of the locations i listed;

Podiebrad

Kolín

Znojmo (Znojmo castle)

Prague (partial?)

i obviously listed Podiebrad (Poděbrady) as that is the location mentioned multiple times in KCD2. Rosa Ruthard mentions her and her family (Ruthards) travelling there at the end of KCD2, and i believe this is where Hans Capon's wedding will be held as well considering Podiebrad was an estate given to the Kunstadts (by Charles IV, Wenceslaus' father), and considering the fact that Botschek and of course Jitka are of Kunstadt, it makes sense.

i also believe Kolín will be there, probably less important but as a potential place where we will be able to meet Samuel again. historically, Sigismund did indeed order an attack on Jews of Kuttenberg and they did settle in Kolin.

the distance between Podiebrad and Kolin is also quite short.

as for Znojmo, it is located some 170km (105mi) away from Rattay which might seem like too far, but here's a reminder on how far Trosky is from Rattay in comparison!

the distance between Rattay and Trosky is 103km (64 mi)

and finally, here is the distance between Rattay and Podiebrad + Kolin.

when you compare it to Trosky and its surrounding area, Podiebrad and Kolin are a lot closer in comparison. i even speculate that Hans' wedding might happen on his way back from Trosky to Rattay, hence why Hanush was so insistent on hurrying Hans up and why Hans was so insistent on staying in the Devil's Den longer with Henry.

and lastly; Prague.

i am still very much on the fence about Prague, mainly because trying to recreate a city of that size in-game would be a Herculean task. not impossible, but very hard. i mention Prague because after stopping in Kuttenberg, that is where king Wenceslaus IV returns to once he escapes Vienna in 1403.

and there could be a lot said about Kuttenberg and that arc in itself (like Hans, Henry and co. meeting the king in Kuttenberg while they're still chilling in the Devil's Den) but i thought i'd rather talk about Prague.

Prague, even in 1403./1404. was already approx. 5-6 times bigger than Kutternberg. which is a Lot. I've already linked this map in a previous post, but here's a reminder on what a reconstructed map of Prague in 1419. looks like;

my frankenprague map. source from this lovely website!

on the other hand it's an insane project that would be lauded for decades if executed successfully because who the hell wouldn't want a walkable map of 1419. Prague ?!

thus i believe that Prague might also become only a cutscene or only a very small part of it would be playable for reasons yet unknown to me.

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okay, that's all for now. i had to cut this post down in size, can you believe it. but i really wanted to make a sort of an Everything post for the possible directions KCD3 might take because i was seeing way, way too many people guessing that the next KCD game will be set in 1419. my brothers and sisters in christ, there are so many important events to cover just from 1404. to 1416., i cannot imagine going straight into the Hussite wars without establishing Henry as a radical on the side of the people through various banditry related events and addressing the collective harem of Bohemian revolutionaries accumulated throughout both of the game's story first. i know a lot of us are here for the tragedy of Hansry in 1419., but i promise you there are many happy years between now and then in the meantime. enjoy them! (and learn more about 15th century Bohemia!)

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spiderfunkz · 6 months ago

Text

THE APARTMENT WE WON'T SHARE

peter parker x reader

cw: post-nwh, angst no comfort, in this universe everyone forgets tasm!peter, everyone including his own partner. inspired by the song of the title.

it's peter's first christmas alone. he's undoubtedly sad, it would be heartbreaking for you to see him like this, thankfully you will never get the chance to. that's what peter thinks, he's grateful for that. that you will never have to see him in the condition he's always in ever again.

a part of him wants to meet again. to suddenly bump into each other on the subway, to accidentally grab the same book in the library— he hopes to feel the spark again. to see your eyes flicker in familiarity. a sense of déjà vu. as if in another timeline, you were meant to be.

it was supposed to be this timeline. he's supposed to be in your arms right now, opening presents together. he's supposed to give you a gift he's been saving for all year. a perfect present. now it sits, collecting dust on the corner of his room.

he's tried his best to come to terms with it. but gosh, it hurts. he's been on a new date, a couple dates, actually. but he stopped after the third one. he realized that he was trying to find you in every person he meets. nobody can compete, he couldn't find the spark. no eyes shined like yours, no personality was as big as yours, no lashes fluttered like yours. no one was you. he wanted you, not someone like you.

he came close though. to you.

in a café, it was you and peter's spot. he believes that you were there because an essence of him still lingers. that's what he tells himself. you were in your favorite sweater, your hair was beautiful, neat like always. you held your usual order. before peter leaves he saw something, something that reassured him this was for the best.

you were with someone else.

he was hoping to catch you glance at him, or for you to notice him, even if it meant just for a second. but you didn't. your smile was so wide, you laughed at a joke. a joke peter thought he would make. and then you left. stepping out of the café and out of his life. to make it worse. with someone new.

every time he patrols he always hopes to see you. he thinks this is just pure madness, obsession. but he also thinks that this is him genuinely missing you, not being able to move on from someone who is perfect. his life was near perfection with you. his heart is unable to do continue without you, he's trying.

and on christmas, today, he saw you. in apartment building, the moonlight highlighted you, as if it was a cruel reminder from the universe that he will never see that light in his life ever again. he was so focused he tripped on the edge of rooftop.

as he caught his feet, he thought this was a christmas miracle, but then he realized,

it was the same apartment building you two toured together. you gave an idea to peter that the two of you should share an apartment. to have a place of your own, you've always wanted that. peter wanted to, but you were the most excited about it. to have a roommate that is also your boyfriend.

now you stayed there. with no peter. he speculated that you gave the same idea, just to another person. the christmas tree was glowing, the lights were sparkly, you exchanged gifts, and peter finally accepts the fact that he was never really in your life.

the dates you two went; the rooftop parties, the bookstore-reading days, movie nights, the trips to europe that never happened— all never truly existed. maybe not to you, but only to peter. the promises, his photographs, all poof! gone.

it's been a year. it feels so empty. colder than usual.

you seemed warm. he knows it. now you sit, at the apartment you will never share with peter. he swings away, the mask is suffocating. he comes back to his apartment. it's cold, unfurnished. only a simple bed, table, and a chair. he was never good at interior work. however you were. you were great.

what lies on his table is cold takeaway, one fork— he doesn't know where the spoon went, coffee he left untouched, and one single polaroid of you, a clear one, where you were still very seen. the one he took when he fought his old enemies with his brothers. the rest were gone, well.. not really. it was just oddly faded. a silhouette of you is there, but it was just the presence of your absence.

peter kept everything. how unfortunate. he wanted to call, to reach out first, but never did. he shouldn't. there was no one to talk about this to, no one. he thinks that before reaching out, he should come to terms with it. fully.

he wishes you a merry christmas. he hopes you get the message. heart to heart. he hopes there's still a small chance.

a/n: should i make this a mini series?

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jubilee40 · 1 year ago

Note

Can you please do relationship HCs for the jjk men? Ups and downs of being their partner lol

The Pros & Cons of Dating JJK Men ~ Gojo, Nanami, Geto, Toji, Sukuna, and Choso

📿📿📿📿📿📿📿📿📿📿📿📿📿📿

Characters: Satoru Gojo, Kento Nanami, Suguru Geto, Toji Fushiguro, Ryomen Sukuna, and Choso

Warnings: Small Angst(?)

📿📿📿📿📿📿📿📿📿📿📿📿📿📿📿📿

Satoru Gojo

Pros:

Satoru’s love language is touch, whether it's holding hands, grabbing your butt, or a kiss, Saturo can't help but have the need to touch and hold you when you are near.

Will always hype you up with anything you are doing, whether you're going out for a girl’s night or have an important work presentation, Saturo is here for you.

Satoru is committed to your relationship once the two of you are official, you are his number 1 priority besides his students.

Sexy time with your Satoru always leaves you overstimulated and exhausted. Becomes completely pussy-drunk as soon as he sees your glistening pussy.

Cons:

I personally don't see a lot of cons with being Satoru except that he can be an attention whore & has a flirty personality in general.

He may see himself as a loyal person who is 1000% dedicated to his S/O but you don't sometimes which feeds into your insecurities and causes unnecessary distance between the two of you.

Kento Nanami

Pros:

Kento is a true gentleman when it comes to his romantic partner. He's serious about respecting your boundaries and not doing anything intimate you aren't comfortable with.

He doesn't think of himself as a romantic but his actions say otherwise. Private dinners at high-class restaurants or a quiet picnic in the park, Kento will make sure everything is perfect.

Kento isn’t with you just for you to stay his girlfriend, he sees you as his future wife to whom he plans to propose to after 2 years of being together.

In bed, Kento Nanami is surprisingly (not) very expressive in the bedroom. He isn't afraid to slap or degrade you after he has your consent naturally.

Cons:

Kento has a set timeline of what he plans his romantic life to be life, which leaves you feeling a bit of pressure to follow it and weirded out that he has this planned out.

He can be too focused on working to take care of his future with you that he ends up leaving you feeling neglected as times.

Suguru Geto

Pros:

Suguru spoils you with praise and affirmations of his love. Enjoys seeing your cheeks redden with each confession of his love he gives you.

He’s protective, not possessive with you. Suguru understands that you need freedom but that doesn't stop him from wrapping his arms around you after seeing a pathetic male ogle you.

Suguru is completely secure with your relationship and knows you are too.

Sex with him is either gentle and poetic or downright nasty and sweaty.

Cons:

A major relationship con I can see with Suguru Geto is his arrogance. He would think he knows more than you do and believes you should just shut up and listen.

His sarcasm can also be something that you struggle with. Even though he doesn't mean to hurt your feelings you can't help but feel upset at his tone and response.

Toji Fushiguro

Pros:

Your relationship with Toji started off as friends-with-benefits that turned into the two of you dating without ever making it official.

Toji loves to grab your ass or tit randomly, leaving a blushing mess and telling him to stop.

He isn't great at communicating how he cares about you so he ends up buying you food and clothes (mostly lingerie) thinking you'll understand his intentions.

Since you and Toji were fwb first he knows what parts of your body to pay attention to have you creaming around his cock. Was a selfish lover at first but now loves seeing the tears run down your face from continuous overstimulation.

Cons:

Let's be real there are more cons to being in a relationship with Toji Fushigoro than pros, but I still love him.

He's horrible with money and will spend all his money on a boat race if he has a “lucky feeling”.

Toji may be committed and love you that doesn't stop him from knowingly flirting with other women, not to the point of cheating but just enough to boost his ego.

Ryomen Sukuna

Pros:

A pro to dating Ryomen is that if he's committed to you, he's COMMITTED to you. Wanna break up/divorce? Too bad.

Ryomen is extremely protective and possessive, not controlling but will have everyone know you're his girl.

Not really into PDA, besides having an arm around you or having his hand resting on your inner thigh. But when the two are you are home Ryomen is leaving hickeys and bite marks all over you.

Ryomen Sukuna is merciless in bed. You have 3 safe words letting him know if it's okay to keep going or if you need a break.

Cons:

Arrogance. At first, you didn't mind his arrogant attitude but now it pisses you off.

Ryomen loves teasing and “bullying” you, what you see is him being an ass, he sees it as flirting.

He sees you as his woman and his property who should bend to his will.

Choso

Pros:

Being Choso’s S/O has you feeling adored and appreciated. He truly falls hard for you.

Is a cuddle monster when the two of you are home. Your embrace is a true comfort for him.

100% loyal to you, Choso barely socializes with anyone besides you and his little brother.

In my opinion, I see Choso as a sub or switch. He prefers to be pegged and taken care of since he always looked after his younger brothers.

Cons:

You are not at the top of his list, his last living younger brother is his number one concern.

Since he isn't a big extrovert, Choso is fine with staying home which can be tiring after the fifth date in a row is a at home movie night.

~Taglist~

@samanthathesonicfan @pradaandlucifer @gojo-enthusiast @breely1284 @fiona782 @mrsgangorca @myfireangel09 @missroro @ohgosh0777 @Miss-Uzumaki @straymoon96 @melody13522 @itzgabz22 @jaselynorwhatever @savantsoulfinders @qtahmark @roseqzpd @innerghiblisoul @lovingsecret @0lissa0 @ike-bana @nycvalntyne @im-the-music-whore @kristaline2dmensimp @moonlittle03 @kurookinnie @renster05 @ifu-sayso

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iamthemess · 1 year ago

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Wanna know what else I'm obsessed with?

It's Natsume. Lots of people forget about him or never even really noticed him. but I did and he is honestly the most unsettling character to me.

He is constantly around Dazai, watching throughout 15 and dark era and he spies on the agency/Dazai? in the present timeline too.

He appears around PM Dazai all the time unless he is with Mori or Chuuya but not Odasaku. He watched the lupin trio.

It's not just the watching, it's the interfering. He gave Oda that book, that book that made Oda who he is and in turn made Dazai who he is.

Was Mori really the only one who made the decisions about Oda dying? Why was there no other choice unless it was a part of a bigger plan?

He put Mori in a prime position where he would be called upon to treat the old mafia boss, where he could learn and understand that the city was falling apart. For a lot of that time the person giving him orders was Natsume.

Natsume was the one who hired Fukuzawa to be Mori's body guard.

Natsume was the one who made the detective agency a possibility.

He is the one who put Mori and Fukuzawa in charge of opposite organisations. What else did he do?

How did Mori find Yosano? Where did Dazai come from? How did the guild know about Atsushi?

Time and time again Natsume shows up to create a chain of events leading up to creating a perfect pair who could cause devastation and/or save the city.

He started with Mori and Fukuzawa, Mori who would continue this line of succession by creating soukoku, Dazai and Chuuya. Mori even quotes something Natsume told him. "only diamonds can polish diamonds."

Dazai, with Natsume possibly guiding him, goes on to find his own diamonds to be polished and creates Shin soukoku.

Everything that has happened can stem from Natsume, a character we rarely see and isn't outwardly stated as important. What is he hiding?

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reversedpineapple · 13 days ago

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─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── 𝕐𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕖 ℙ𝕣𝕠𝕗𝕚𝕝𝕖: 𝔻𝕣. ℝ𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠 ── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Here to spread my Dr. Ratio propaganda. (≖⩊≖) This is beta read but I also wrote and looked over this in the middle of the night.

∘•·····•∘ Yan! Dr. Ratio x Nameless! Reader ∘•·····•∘

(Reader is not Trailblazer)

TWs: Stalking, obsessive behaviour, toxic relationship, manipulation, delusional behaviour

Comments, likes and reblogs are always appreciated. :D

ٜ۪ꥇ໋۬ Word count: 1.4k ٜ۪ꥇ໋۬

By continuing to read beyond this point, you have agreed to the trigger warnings and to be at least of the age of 18. The author does not hold any responsibility whatsoever for your actions.

This man is a menace and you don’t even know about it most of the time.

Since you are a Nameless, he can’t just do with you whatever he wants. Your name is far too well known in the universe for his actions to not have unnecessary repercussions.

To his luck (and your demise) are the adventures of the Trailblaze highly sought after, the media reporting on what your group had been up to if there is even a hint of action from you. So imagine the surprise of Veritas colleagues when they see him listening to a gossip channel on the radio. One time, another professor approached him just to catch the esteemed Doctor Ratio reading an article of a boulevard magazine. There was no reason at all why he was even more adamant to wear that plaster head for the rest of the day (if that was even possible). No reason at all!

Everything you do, even if you are on the other side of the universe, is catalogued by the Doctor, a carefully cultivated timeline decorating his bedroom walls. In that regard, he is a complete hypocrite. Veritas claims that the first necessity to overcome idiocy is to know thyself, yet he doesn’t even realise his own unhealthy behavior. To him, this is no different than someone painting their wall in a colour. His favorite just happens to be you. And he is so careful with it too. Don’t even dare to imagine hurriedly scribbled notes with a pencil, by the Archons, no. He paints the whole thing carefully like how an artist would paint their muse with acrylic paint.

Veritas has a plaster head of you. Of course he has, what did you expect? But he does not dare to wear it. Instead, it’s presented in a glass case and to ensure it does not feel lonely he also has a perfect marble replica of you. Veritas also has the nasty little habit of talking to them like you were actually standing in the room, telling it about a certain student not doing as well as they could if they would only focus.

This man knows your likes and dislikes in and out. How? Remember him reading magazines and listening to entertainment he would deem as waste if they were not reporting about the latest gossip about you? Yes, that. He rewatches even the smallest snippets he sees about you in visible media. There was that one time you tried a dish on the Xianzhou and despite you smiling, he could tell by subtle body language you were lying. By the way, that clip was three seconds long.

If he meets you in person though? He behaves totally normal. Well, as normal as the Doctor Ratio usually behaves. However, he talks slightly less down on you than he does to others. Don’t misunderstand him though, he still sees himself as the superior one between the two of you. His behaviour stems less from a position of equality and more like how a human views a small kitten. Don’t get him wrong, he thinks you are unlike most not stupid, dare I say he respects you even a little bit but in the end, his view on humans is a spectrum. On one side, there are idiots who he oh so desperately tries to educate and on the other, there are geniuses (which are in his opinion sadly way too rare). You sit right in the middle between the two of them.

Congratulations, most don’t even come close to the halfway point of the middle.

The plaster head is glued on in your presence. Reason for that is the heat blooming across his face. Ratio is your most avid fan, your most loyal cheerleader. To him, you are someone with great potential. Veritas also has hope in his students but what he feels for you isn’t just hope, he knows you have the making of someone of true intellect and he would be damned if he were to not attentively take note of that.

If you want to see the good doctor flustered, do small acts of services. Prepare him a dinner, ask him how his day was, arrange his clothing back into place should they ever fall out of place. Veritas is often seen as someone untouchable, a perfect cold statue so the human part of him gets often forgotten. This does not bother him one bit but you acting like this strokes some part of him that would make him, if he had less self control, squeal like a schoolgirl and roll on the ground… metaphorically speaking.

Should you ever express romantic interest in him though… oh boy. The plaster head would still stay for a while. Ratio needs to practice. Like an athlete prepares themselves for a tournament day after day, he himself prepares himself for your affection. If he is sure he won’t turn into a solanum lycopersicum, he will start to remove it more often around you. No, Veritas Ratio isn’t all suave and cool headed like he presents himself, he is just way too prepared for everything in this relationship. If he messes up, it’s on purpose. You dislike that? Then he will do this better the next time. Of course he knew that beforehand but everyone would get suspicious if their relationship was nothing but smooth sailing.

On those rare occasions you stay over, he will prepare. The plaster head and statue will be moved to his bedroom. The man is most likely rich enough to own a place with a guest bedroom he will present as his own. Ratio understands very well that you seeing this would be the end of your relationship, especially if you are still in the earlier stages. Like already mentioned, he does not see how toxic his behavior is because he thinks that everything he feels and thinks about himself is undeniably true. It usually is and because he is wrong in this one instance, he is unable to see the problem with his actions. He is, in simpler terms, acting like someone who says their opinion on something but deep down disagrees with it without realising that.

If you are in a relationship and currently traveling, he will miss you and he will catch himself spacing out from time to time. Such a thing was unthinkable for him before all of this. Veritas is not against that, though. He understands that humans have such reactions to emotions and suppressing those would lead to negative consequences. He does try to keep it under control whilst being in public though. On the other hand, one thing he is ashamed about is the shirt he stole from you. It’s not a smell thing, he would never let used, dirty laundry get close to him but rather a thing of possession. It just hangs neatly in his dresser, waiting for the owner to return. The best assumption he can make about his own actions is, that he just likes to have something materialistic from you. He also has a lock of your hair hidden somewhere on his person. Where though is a mystery only he knows the answer to.

Somewhere along the relationship he has gifted you a headpiece like his own. In his eyes it’s a lot less glaringly obvious than a ring. You don’t have the heart to tell him that it is indeed a lot more obvious so you just wear it happily. What you don’t know though is that every time your partner sees you wearing it, whether that be on a photo or a video, there is a part of himself satisfied that he has laid claim to you. If you let him do as he wants, you might as well soon look like you are from Amphoreus and believe me when I tell you, you do not want that.

If you don’t draw clear lines, Ratio will make you emotionally dependent on him. He knows how humans work, he knows how to manipulate you just right so you still have your dazzling personality, yet can’t go on without him for too long. The good news is, your partner is a patient man. You can drag this on for a very long time. The bad news, it is not a question if but rather when this happens. When you finally learn about all the unsavoury things Veritas does, it is already way too late. By then you are dependent on him and nevermind the questions. Ratio also is a well known person so should you even think about distancing yourself, you will have to answer to a horde of reporters and I don’t think I need to tell you about how intense they can get when they think they got a scoop.

Do not copy, translate or use my work without my permission. All rights belong to the author.

#honkai star rail x reader #yandere hsr #yandere hsr x reader #dr ratio x reader #yandere dr ratio #Yandere dr ratio x reader #hsr dr ratio #gn reader #revpinewriting

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kai-uh-arcadian · 11 months ago

Text

I feel like I know you

synopsis: you relentlessly have dreams of a woman you can never remember the moment you wake up

cw: soulmate! AU, angsty-(?), minor cursing, briefly suggestive, alcohol, brief mentions of death/killing

word count: 7.5K

notes! hi hi (: it’s lowkey inspired by the movie ‘Your Name’ but with Tzuyu! (obv) Italics indicate dreams/other timelines. I really enjoyed writing this— although I’m inexperienced I hope you enjoy! Let me know how you feel about it or if you’d just like to chat! Love youuu (:

You were at the bookstore when you first heard it.

Bells.

Clear and unmistakable, the sound cut through the quiet hum of the store. It was as if the world paused for a moment, just long enough for the chime to echo between you both.

You were walking through the narrow aisle, lost in thought, when your shoulder brushed against hers. The contact was brief, almost incidental, but the timing was perfect—right as the bell rang. Both of you stopped, caught off guard, and turned to face each other. Her eyes were wide with the same bewilderment you felt. For a split second, it was as if the world shrank to just the two of you, suspended in that peculiar moment.

“Oh-! I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath– trying to assuage the awkwardness that was in the air. She nodded, offering a small smile before you both continued on your way, the moment slipping into the background like a passing breeze.

You finished your browsing, paid for your book, and headed back to your studio apartment. The familiar warmth of home welcomed you along with your dog Bread as he was wagging his tail. You set the book down on the table, patted Bread’s head, and moved through the motions of your evening routine—making dinner, washing the dishes, tidying up and showering.

Finally, as the day wound down, you climbed into bed, pulling the covers up to your chin. Your thoughts drifted to the beautiful woman in the bookstore, the sound of the bell, and the strange sense that something had shifted. You decided to shrug it off as a coincidence as maybe someone had opened the door at the exact moment you two brushed against each other(but you swore you only heard it in your head, not from your ears.)

But sleep came quickly, pulling you into its embrace before you could dwell on it any longer.

That’s when it began.

The dreams.

You’ve always had vivid dreams, the kind that feel more like memories than figments of your imagination. But this was different. The clarity, the intensity—it was as though you were slipping into another world entirely.Truly blurring the line between reality and fantasy.

“Jagiya~, let’s go up there! That spot looks perfect!” The voice was ethereal, almost musical, as she led you up a lush, green hill, a wicker picnic basket swinging gently in her free hand.

“Yeah! That’s perfect!” you replied, your voice bright with excitement. But even as the words left your lips, it felt odd—as if you were watching a scene play out from a distant memory, detached yet present. Like you were both an actor and observer, following along as if it were scripted, yet not fully in control.

The strangeness lingered.

You were fully conscious, intensely aware of everything around you: the warmth of the sun on your face, the way it cast a golden hue across the landscape; the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze, brushing against your skin like a gentle caress; the intoxicating scent her rose perfume that drifted through the air, delicate and familiar, stirring something deep within you.

“When I used to get homesick, I would come here and make all the same snacks my mom used to make for me when she would take me out for a picnic” her voice entranced you like she was a siren. God.. Her laugh was even more enthralling, “She even let me bring TWO of my stuffed animals to join us” she chuckled

“I haven’t been here in a while though..” she trailed off as if she had more to say but waited for your response.

“Hm~? Why not jagi?” genuine curiosity evident in your voice

Who was this woman? A part of your mind questioned her identity, her presence—so familiar yet unplaceable. The other part of you was overwhelmed by an inexplicable sense of love and happiness, as if every fiber of your being recognized her, longed for her. Your soul knew her.

You could only see her back as she walked ahead—her hair was black and cascaded down her back in soft waves, her frame slender and elegant, her height slightly above average. She moved with a grace that seemed almost otherworldly, her steps light and purposeful as if this hill was a sacred place, meant just for the two of you.

You reached the top of the hill, the world stretching out before you like a painted masterpiece. The woman paused, her back still to you, and you felt your heart quicken. She began to turn, slowly, as if in a movie, and you knew—knew with every part of you—that seeing her face would change everything.

“Well.. Because you’re my home now, y/n”

But just as your eyes were about to meet hers—

You woke up.

The dream slipped away like sand through your fingers, leaving you with a lingering sense of longing, of something lost and yet to be found. Your heart raced as you lay there, the vividness of the experience etched into your mind, leaving you questioning whether it was just a dream or something more—a memory, or perhaps, of a life you couldn’t quite remember.

These dreams persisted for weeks, each one more vivid and consuming than the last. Pages and pages of your journal were filled with each dream with the mysterious woman. You also sketched whatever details of her world you could recall—an outdoor market while she browsed records, a side view of her looking at a bouquet of flowers, and a pair of small dogs, one dark, one light.

Yet, no matter how hard you tried, her face remained elusive. It was always blurred, or worse, you would wake up the moment you were about to see it. The frustration gnawed at you, driving you to spend more time with your journal, hoping that somehow, the next dream would reveal more pieces to complete this impossible puzzle.

After scribbling whatever details you could remember, you sighed, setting your pencil down. You cleaned yourself up, fed Bread, and sent some money to your loyal dog sitter (and neighbor!) Momo.

With Bread content and your mind somewhat at ease, you began to organize your things for work. Once everything was in order, you decided to head to your favorite café, Park’s Perk.

The morning air was crisp as you made your way down the familiar street. As you entered the café, the comforting scent of freshly brewed coffee greeted you, and you spotted your friend from college, Jihyo, preparing for the day ahead.

“Jihyo-unnie, you don’t understand these dreams I’ve been having!” you whined, trailing after her as she moved from table to table, wiping them down in preparation for opening.

She paused, glancing at you with a mix of concern and amusement. “You’re right, I don’t understand, but I can imagine how crazy it must be to experience them. Maybe it’s— Hi, welcome in!”

She was interrupted by the bell above the door jingling as another customer entered. You let out a sigh, flopping down into your usual seat by the window. “ Ugh~ It’s like every time I’m about to see her face, something pulls me out of the dream. I just can’t shake the feeling that she’s important, you know?”

Jihyo finished wiping down the last table and came over to join you, setting a steaming cup of your favorite brew in front of you. You said a quick ‘thank-you’ before she continued “You know, the subconscious mind is weird. Maybe it could be connecting you to a past life or maybe it’s just showing you the type of life you want to live with someone. Did you have a dream last night?”

You took a sip of the coffee before explaining, “Yeah we were..”

You rummaged through the cupboards of your home, carefully selecting your and your wife’s favorite tea cups. They were delicate, with hand-painted patterns you had both made at a pottery class you two took as a date. You gently scooped the tea leaves into the kettle, breathing in the familiar, calming scent as the steam rose. The boiling water poured into the kettle with a soft hiss, and you set it aside to steep

As you moved about the kitchen, you heard your wife’s footsteps in the hallway, the soft padding of her feet growing fainter as she entered the living room. A moment later, the gentle, melodic sound of the guzheng filled the air, the music wrapping around you like a warm embrace. It was a tune she often played, one that had become so familiar that you catch yourself humming it from time to time.

With the tea now steeped, you carefully carried the two cups and the kettle into the living room. Your wife was seated at the low table, her fingers gracefully plucking at the strings of the guzheng, lost in the flow of the music. You placed one of the cups near her, the delicate clink of porcelain barely interrupting her concentration. Leaning down, you pressed a soft kiss to her cheek, and she giggled in response, her fingers briefly faltering on the strings.

“Is Xinyi asleep?” you asked as you began to pour the tea into her cup, the warm liquid swirling gently.

“Yes, it was easy today,” she replied, her voice filled with warmth. “She had so much fun at the park… You’re such a good mom.” She chuckled, reminiscing about the joy on your daughter’s face just a few hours ago.

You smiled, feeling a surge of affection as you hugged her from behind, your arms wrapping around her gently as she knelt at the table. You placed a tender kiss on the nape of her neck, and you felt her shiver in response, a soft sigh escaping her lips. “You’re an even better mom,” you whispered, “and the best wife.”

She leaned into your embrace, her body relaxing against yours as she murmured a contented “Mm~” before her focus shifted back to the instrument. You released her, making your way to the couch and sinking into its familiar comfort. You rested your head on the armrest, watching her play, the music filling the room with a sense of peace and belonging.

“I’m so lucky to have you,” you said, your voice low and filled with emotion. You smiled, feeling your eyelids grow heavy as the music lulled you into a state of deep relaxation. The sound of her playing, her voice humming along, was like a lullaby, soothing and familiar.

When you opened your eyes, everything had changed. The cozy living room with its warm lighting and familiar comforts was gone. Instead, you found yourself lying on a tiny twin mattress in a college dorm, facing a woman whose face was blurry. You could see her black hair cascading over the pillow, her eyes closed in peaceful slumber.

Despite the shift in surroundings, you felt an overwhelming sense of love and contentment. The comforter was pulled up to your chins, but you knew that you were both naked beneath the sheets. You reached out, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Your heart was doing flips–you swore she must’ve heard because she spoke up!

“Mm~ what’s your happiest memory?” she purred, her voice soft as she nuzzled into your hand, her smile evident even with her eyes still closed.

“My happiest memory?” you repeated, considering the out-of-the-blue question. Your hand gently caressed her chin with your thumb as you thought. “I think… I think it’s happening right now.”

She chuckled softly, and the sound was like music to your ears. “Is it because we just fucked?” she teased, playfully slapping your chest. The outlandish accusation made you laugh in disbelief

“No~!” you huffed, trying to keep a straight face, though you couldn’t quite hide your smile. “I’m just so in love with you,” you confessed, pulling her closer onto your bare chest. Your arms wrapped around her, holding her securely as she instinctively nuzzled closer, seeking to melt into you.

“Every moment with you is my favorite memory… It’s…” You paused, searching for the right words to convey the depth of your feelings. “It’s pure bliss,” you finally said, your voice barely more than a whisper as you leaned down to place a gentle kiss on her forehead.

“Wow…” Jihyo sat there, momentarily speechless. Her wide eyes reflected a mix of disbelief and curiosity. “That was your dream?” she asked incredulously.

“Yes!” you exclaimed, leaning forward in your seat. “It was like a dream within a dream. I could feel everything so vividly, and it hurt so much when I woke up, like I’d lost something real.”

Jihyo shook her head in amazement, taking in your words. “No, yeah, that’s crazy! I can barely remember my dreams, and if I do, they’re nothing like that—half the time they don’t even make sense,” she said with a laugh.

You chuckled along, feeling the tension ease as the conversation shifted to lighter topics. The two of you finished your coffee, chatting about the latest gossip, upcoming events at the café, and Jihyo’s plans for the weekend. It was easy to get lost in the rhythm of the conversation.

As you were wrapping up your conversation, Jihyo suddenly glanced at her phone, her eyes widening slightly. “Hey, y/n-ah, don’t you have work soon?” she asked, tilting her head to the side with a playful smirk.

“Oh shit!” you blurted out, quickly checking your watch. Time had slipped away from you in the café. You jumped up from your seat, fumbling for your wallet. After handing Jihyo some money (with a little extra for the excellent company), you grabbed your briefcase and semi-shouted a quick, “Thank you!” to both Jihyo and Dahyun, who was working at the cash register with a knowing smile.

You made your hurried escape, the sound of the café’s lively chatter fading behind you. As you rushed toward the door, you slid past another customer entering the café. Just as you brushed by, bells rang out.

Something about the sound made you pause. You turned your head briefly to glance at the person you had just rushed by, catching a glimpse of her dark hair as she hesitated for a moment, then continued into the café.

“Hi, welcome in!” you heard Dahyun greet her warmly, her voice muffled by the distance.

But you were already moving again, lightly jogging away in a desperate attempt to make it to work on time. Yet, as you hurried down the street, something nagged at the back of your mind. The bells you’d just heard—those weren’t the usual café bells. They had a different tone, a different resonance, almost like the bells you had heard somewhere… before.

You shook your head, trying to focus on the task at hand. There was no time to dwell on it now.

You finished work a bit earlier than usual, it was a rare occurrence. Leaning back in your chair, you loosened your tie, allowing yourself a deep, weary sigh. Between meeting with patients, sending medication forms for approval, and still being in school to pursue your doctorate, free time was a luxury you barely enjoyed. But today, you decided to treat yourself.

You scrolled through a delivery app, finally settling on your favorite dishes. As you added items to the cart, you thought of Momo. She was probably still at your place, taking care of Bread, and you were sure she wouldn't expect you back so early. You added a few of her favorite items to the order

You trudged home with bags of food in hand, you felt the weight of the day slowly lift off your shoulders. The familiarity of home was just what you needed. Finally reaching your apartment, you nudged the door open with your foot.

“I’m home~” you called out, your voice echoing through the hallway. “Momo, I brought food,” you added, setting the takeout bags on the kitchen counter before kicking off your shoes.

Momo’s teasing voice rang out from the living room, “Home early? You get laid off or something?”

You rolled your eyes playfully as you unpacked the food. “Hey, if I get laid off, then you suffer too, Miss Dogsitter,” you shot back with a grin. “Well, whatever, I brought you jokbal.”

Her eyes doubled in size as she peeked into the bags. “You’re the best boss ever,” she declared, her excitement evident as she started unpacking the food.

You knelt down to the ground, your heart warming as Bread hopped over to you, his tail wagging so furiously you were surprised it didn’t fly off. “Hi, baby~~!” you cooed, scratching behind his ears as he licked your face in greeting.

Momo, already impatiently digging into the food, glanced over at you. “You okay? How was work? You kinda look like shit,” she remarked, her voice muffled by a mouthful of food.

“Oh, wow thanks,” you replied, giving her a gentle nudge. “But yeah, I’m good. Just a bit mentally exhausted. I can’t seem to get a good night’s sleep lately.” You sighed, walking over to your living room and settling onto the couch with your food. “Work was fine, though. I actually finished up a bit early, which is why I was able to grab this before the place closed.”

Momo plopped down beside you, still chewing. “Oh! I bought you some beer and soju,” she said, swallowing her food. “I know you’ve been having those dreams, and I heard alcohol affects your REM cycle. Maybe it’ll stop the dreams? It’s not—or shouldn’t be—a permanent fix, but I thought maybe tonight you could use a break and get some better sleep.” She smiled at you, her eyes filled with genuine concern.

You paused, considering her suggestion. “Ah~ that’s not too bad of an idea. It is Friday, after all, so maybe I should try that tonight,” you agreed, digging into your samgyupsal.

After you two finished eating, Momo insisted on cleaning up while you headed to the shower. The hot water cascaded over you, washing away the stress of the day. When you emerged, the scent of food was replaced by the faint aroma of soju and beer. Momo had laid out an impressive selection on the table, and you couldn’t help but smile at her thoughtfulness.

You threw on a hoodie and joined Momo on the couch. She’d put on a random K-drama. The two of you chatted about anything and everything, the conversation flowing easily as the alcohol took the edge off. By the end of the night, you were both pretty drunk, laughter filling the small apartment as you reminisced about old memories and whatever the hell was on your mind.

When the hour grew late, Momo helped you into a makeshift couch bed, tucking you in. “Alright, get some sleep,” she said softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I’ll be right next door if you need anything.”

You mumbled a sleepy ‘thank you’ as she quietly let herself out, heading to her apartment just next door. The room felt warm and cozy, the alcohol buzzing pleasantly in your veins as you drifted off, thinking that maybe tonight, you’d finally get a peaceful night’s sleep. Momo had said that alcohol could affect your REM sleep, meaning you wouldn’t dream—or at least, you wouldn’t remember your dreams. Right? It sounded like exactly what you needed. No more strange visions, no more waking up with a sense of longing. Just sleep. Right!?

But you were wrong.

Out of all the dreams you’d had, this one stood out the most.

Feudal Japan, Taisho Era

For as long as you could remember, your life had been defined by a single purpose: to protect the princess of Japan. These were the direct orders given to you by Lord Chou, the man who had rescued you from the wreckage of your past.

You were just a child, barely five years old, when Lord Chou found you. Cowered in a corner, knees drawn to your chest, you wept as your parents' lifeless bodies lay before you. Raiders had slaughtered them, leaving you orphaned and alone. Lord Chou, who had killed the raiders, initially intended to leave you there, a mere child of poor merchants with no future to speak of. But then, something caught his eye—a samurai sword lying beside your father’s body.

With a furrowed brow, he studied you for a moment before speaking the first words that would change your life forever: “From now on, you will be my daughter’s protector. Dedicate your life to her.”

And so you did. From that moment on, every breath you took was in service to those five words. You trained relentlessly, honing your skills until you were one of the finest samurai in all of Japan, sworn to protect Princess Chou with your life.

It was the night before a raid, and the atmosphere in the camp was thick with tension. You and your fellow samurai had been informed that you were outnumbered, 80 samurai against an entire army. Death was not just probable; it was certain. But you were not afraid. This was the life you had signed up for, a life that had been gifted to you as a second chance.

You knew what you had to do. But before the sun rose and the battle began, there was one person you needed to see—one person you had to say goodbye to.

The guards at the palace entrance let you in without question; it was not unusual for you to visit the princess at odd hours, checking in on her safety. Tonight, though, was different. As you approached her quarters, dressed in a simple yogi, you felt the weight of the moment pressing down on you.

“Chou-sama, may I come in?” you called softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes,” came the familiar voice from beyond the tatami door. The soft glow of an oil lamp illuminated the silhouette of the princess, her figure graceful and serene.

You slid the door open, revealing the princess still adorned in her elegant jūnihitoe from today’s farewell ceremony, a sight that made your heart ache with unspoken emotion. She looked up at you with a polite smile, though her eyes held a hint of curiosity.

“Hello, Chou-sama. I apologize for the late meeting,” you said, bowing deeply, your forehead nearly touching the floor.

She tilted her head slightly, her smile gentle. “Do you need anything, y/n-san? It’s quite late.”

“Again, I apologize for the intrusion,” you began, sitting up from your bow. “I am aware of the hour, but I wanted to say goodbye. I leave at daybreak, and I fear this may be our last time speaking.”

Her face softened, her eyes widening in shock. You had known Princess Chou since you were children, she was always a bubbly and mischievous spirit. (you would usually always take the blame for her.. Unless of course they caught her red-handed) But about 5 years ago when she turned 13, the weight of her responsibilities had turned her serious, her carefree demeanor replaced by a stoicness that rarely broke.

“I see...” she managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes, Princess, that is all I wished to say. Thank you for allowing me to be by your side all these years. I owe my life to you and your family,” you said, bowing once more as you prepared to take your leave.

“Tzuyu,” she suddenly announced.

You paused, sitting back on your heels as you looked at her in confusion.

“My name is Tzuyu,” she repeated. “Please, call me that.”

In all the 13 years you had served her, you had never known her first name. It was not unusual, given your status as a samurai, once a mere peasant. “It’s a beautiful name... Tzuyu,” you said, the name foreign on your tongue as it seemed disrespectful.

Her tone sharpened, though not unkindly. “Are those your final words to me? Or is there more you wish to say?”

She had always been perceptive, reading your body language and the emotions you struggled to conceal. Your heart ached with the weight of everything you had left unsaid, and your eyes flashed with a sadness you could no longer hide.

“Go on, tell me,” she urged, her gaze softening as the stoic mask she wore began to crumble.

Taking a deep breath, you met her eyes. “You gave me a reason to live, a purpose that has defined my existence. I have gladly dedicated my life to you, which is why I am honoured to die for you. From the moment we met, I was prepared to sacrifice my life for yours. But while I am unafraid to face death, I am terrified of leaving you behind. You are the only person I have final words for, the most important person in my otherwise meaningless life.”

Her expression remained composed, but you could see the glossiness in her eyes as she listened to your words. “I could speak to my father,” she bargained, her voice monotone. “If you die, who will be my protector?”

“Cho-.. Tzuyu... this is something I must do. It is my duty, the vow I made to your father. I cannot dishonour that promise,” you replied, your heart sinking as the reality of the situation settled in.

“I see,” she said, though her tone betrayed the emotions she struggled to suppress.

“Promise me that you’ll come back alive?” She whispered looking at the tatami mat below her

“I promise I will fight until my last breath to return to you” You said trying to assuage her worries, knowing that survival was futile. She caught it too.

A heavy silence fell between you, both of you lost in thought, searching for the right words to say.

“Do you believe in reincarnation?” she asked suddenly, her voice breaking the silence.

“Yes... I believe I do,” you answered, surprised by the sudden question.

“Then promise me that you will find me in the next life. Promise me that you’ll never leave my side, that we’ll live as normal civilians, free from war,” she said, her voice quivering with vulnerability.

For a moment, the room was silent, her request hanging in the air. Finally, you nodded, your voice steady as you replied, “Yes, Tzuyu, I promise. A life where war does not exist, where you need no protection, and I can live peacefully by your side.”

Tears began to spill down her cheeks, the facade of the princess melting away to reveal the woman beneath. The woman you have loved for years. The woman that you’ll love in each lifetime–each timeline. “Kiss me, please. That is an order,” she whispered desperately as her voice broke.

You got up and you closed the distance between you, pressing your lips to hers in a kiss that was both tender and desperate, a culmination of years of unspoken feelings. That night, your bodies blended into one, a final act of love and devotion before the sun would separate you forever.

The clang of steel echoed around you as you fought relentlessly on the battlefield. Your sword clashed with that of an opposing soldier, your movements swift and precise. With a final thrust, you ended his life, but before you could even take a breath, a sharp pain shot through your back, spreading to your chest.

An arrow.

You gritted your teeth, trying to focus through the searing pain, but another arrow followed. Then another. And another. And another. Four in total, each one piercing through your back and exiting through your chest.

Cowards.

You staggered, blood seeping through your armor, staining the ground beneath you. With every step, your vision blurred, but you kept moving, refusing to fall. The weight of your promise to Tzuyu was the only thing keeping you on your feet. But your body could only endure so much, and eventually, it gave out. You collapsed harshly onto the ground, the earth cool against your burning skin.

As you lay there, the world around you seemed to fade away. The sounds of battle grew distant, and all you could think of was her.

Tzuyu.

Her name was a chant in your mind, a desperate plea that echoed in the void of your fading consciousness.

Tzuyu.

You had promised her, but now you were dying, unable to keep your word. The regret was a weight heavier than any armor, crushing your spirit even as your body lay broken.

Tzuyu...

I’m sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t return.

The darkness began to close in, your vision narrowing to a single point before it, too, disappeared. The battlefield, the pain, the regret—all of it vanished into nothingness.

And then, with a jolt, you woke up.

Instead of waking up in your bed,

You woke up on a sandy shore, face down, the gritty texture of the sand pressing against your skin. Your heart pounded in your chest as you jolted awake, not a single ounce of pain surging through your body. Confusion clouded your mind as you pushed yourself up, scanning the unfamiliar surroundings.

The sea whispered softly against the shore, its rhythm almost hypnotic, but your focus quickly shifted to the figure standing not too far from where you had been laying. It was a woman. She was sitting while watching the waves, her long, dark hair swaying gently in the breeze. Something about her presence felt achingly familiar.

You got to your feet, the sand shifting beneath you as you cautiously made your way toward her. As you approached, you could feel your heart racing, a strange mixture of hope and fear building inside you. You sat down beside her, your gaze fixed on the horizon where the sky met the sea.

“What’s your name?” her voice was soft, almost ethereal, as she finally spoke.

You hesitated for a moment, your mind racing with possibilities, before you answered, “y/n. What’s yours?” Your eyes remained locked on the scenery before you, afraid to look directly at her, afraid to confront the truth.

“It’s.. Tzuyu,” she replied, her voice carrying a weight of unspoken memories.

The name struck you like a bolt of lightning. You turned to look at her, your eyes wide with shock as if the final piece of a complex puzzle had just fallen into place. She mirrored your expression, her own eyes widening in recognition.

“It’s you!?” you both exclaimed in unison, the disbelief in your voices quickly dissolving into laughter, tinged with the relief of finally understanding.

“You’re the girl in my dreams?” you whispered, your voice trembling as you spoke. Tears began to well up in your eyes, and despite your best efforts, they started to stream down your face. You tried to smile, but the overwhelming emotions made it difficult.

“It seems so,” she replied, tears trailing down her own cheeks. “Each day I wake up missing you. I’m just… I’m just really… happy to see you, y/n!” Her voice cracked with emotion as she threw her arms around you, pulling you into a tight, desperate embrace.

“Me too, Tzuyu,” you murmured, your voice breaking as your own emotions poured out. Tears fell freely from your eyes, soaking into her shoulder. “Every morning it hurts to wake up without you.”

Tzuyu sobbed quietly into your shoulder, her body trembling against yours as if holding on for dear life. Her grip tightened, her fingers digging into your back as though afraid you might disappear if she let go.

“I just… I’m sorry—I can’t seem to remember you,” she whispered, her voice cracking with frustration and sorrow. “No matter how much I try, no matter how much I write or draw… I can’t seem to—” Her voice broke, and she buried her face deeper into your shoulder, her tears soaking through your shirt.

You felt your heart twist, a sharp pang of sadness cutting through the warmth of the moment. You gently patted her back, trying to comfort her, though you knew the weight of what she was saying. “I know, Tzuyu,” you whispered softly. “I don’t know how.. but we’re here together now. That’s what matters.”

She sniffled, pulling back slightly to meet your gaze, her eyes still glossy with unshed tears.

“Can you remember anything before you came here?”

You furrowed your brows trying to remember, “Hmm. The last thing I remember before showing up here was… I think I was a samurai?”

Tzuyu’s eyes widened in surprise, her breath hitching slightly as your words sunk in. She gazed at you as if the pieces of a puzzle were slowly clicking into place. “You were… my protector?” she asked, her voice trembling with both wonder and disbelief.

You nodded slowly, the memories rushing back in vivid flashes—armor, sword in hand, standing at her side in a life long past. “Yes, Chou-sama.” You chuckled in disbelief and more tears trailed down your cheek as you smiled so brightly

Tzuyu’s eyes filled with tears again, but this time they were different—tears of recognition, of understanding, of something deeper than memory alone could explain. She cupped your face in her hands, her touch tender as she studied your features like she was trying to memorize every detail.

“I think… I think I kind of remember now,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “Not everything, but pieces… glimpses of you. Moments and memories with you” She laughed softly through her tears. “It sounds crazy, but I think I’ve been searching for you across lives… across timelines”

You smiled, warmth spreading through your chest. All the moments you’ve shared with her flashed in your mind– finally remembering. “I’ve been searching for you too. And somehow, we always find each other.” You brought your hand up to gently wipe a tear from her cheek.

“Do you think,” she anxiously began “that whenever we leave this place, do you think we’ll just forget?” she said softly, barely above a whisper

There was a pause in the air. As if you both came to the harsh realization that you’ll just be left with the longing for each other.

“I don’t want to forget.”

“What if we tried to think of a way to remember each other?” She began as if a light bulb appeared above her head “Like hmm… do you have a pen or–”

But before she could finish, something strange began to happen. The shore around you started to stretch, elongating in a way that defied all logic. The distance between you and Tzuyu grew longer and longer, pulling her away from your embrace as if some unseen force was tearing you apart.

“Wait! No-! y/n!” she cried out, her voice filled with desperation as she reached out for you. She got up and tried to run toward you, but the distance only increased, the shore stretching endlessly between you.

“Tzuyu!” you shouted back, your voice breaking with panic. You ran toward her as fast as you could, your hand outstretched, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t reach her. The tears in your eyes blurred your vision, but you could still see her hand reaching out for you.

“My name is Tzuyu! Please.. please don’t forget me!” she yelled, her voice trembling as she fought against the ever-expanding distance.

“y/n! It’s y/n!” you screamed, your voice echoing across the shore as you stretched your hand toward her. You were so close, almost touching her fingers—

But then you woke up.

You shot up from your couch, your heart hammering in your chest. Tears flowed down your face, the remnants of the dream still clinging to your mind like a fading mist. The emptiness beside you was unbearable, the longing for her presence too much to bear.

You were back in reality, but the pain was still there, fresh and raw, as if the dream had torn open a wound you didn’t even know you had.

“No..wait..” you trembled as tears blurred your vision “No!” you yelled in frustration causing Bread to shoot his head up from his bed that was placed next to the couch (Thanks Momo)

“What... what, god..fuck, what was her name!?” you hyperventilated as you looked at your hand that almost touched hers

“Fuck..!” you sobbed “Why can’t I remember her face? Or her name?!” frustration spilled out of you as everything seemed to be on the tip of your tongue yet unable to grasp it

The dreams stopped happening.

Looking back in hindsight, at the time they were

Frustrating.

Annoying.

Pesky even.

But now?

More than anything, you missed her—the girl who had once haunted your nights and now left your days feeling empty

To escape the aching void she left behind, you threw yourself into work, burying the longing under piles of paperwork and endless meetings.You even paid Momo ‘overtime’ as you decided to work 12-hour shifts from time to time each week. She never asked why you were suddenly working twelve-hour shifts, though the concern in her eyes said enough..

You even confided in Jihyo about the dreams—or the lack of them. She suggested you try everything from ‘shifting’ podcasts to ‘lucid dream’ vibrations on YouTube, but nothing worked. The harder you tried to dream, the more elusive sleep became.

One weekend, you overslept for an alarming number of hours. Momo let herself into your apartment to do a ‘wellness check’. Bread’s excited barks greeted her at the door, tail wagging so hard it looked like he might take off.

“y/n, you okay? It’s Momo, I’m worried” she announced making her way through your apartment while petting Bread.

She opened up your bedroom door and was greeted by a groggy you(alive and well)

“Hmm~?” you mumbled “Momo? What are you doing here? Are you okay?” You said as you plopped back into bed, stretching like a lazy cat

“Am I okay?” she huffed. “You weren’t responding to my texts like you usually do, you vampire! It’s almost 12:45!”

“12:45?!” You shot up, reaching for your phone in disbelief–blinking a couple times to focus your eyes. Sure enough, the screen glowed back at you with the time—12:37 pm.

“Yes, idiot!” she exclaimed, rolling her eyes. “Whatever—I'm just glad you're okay. Seems like Bread’s happy you’re okay too.” she said as Bread made his way onto your bed, licking your face

“Ah~ hi baby~! Good mo- afternoon~!” you cooed at him “ Sorry for worrying you Momo, I just took melatonin a bit too late I think” you said as you shifted your focus to Momo

“Don’t worry, maybe as a thank-you, you should take him on a walk today– seems like you need the fresh air more than me” she chuckled as she settled down on the foot of your bed

“Yeah that seems like a good idea, feel like I lost half my day” you rubbed the back of your neck in embarrassment

“Yeah, well.. you kinda did!” she teased

After cooking bre..lunch with Momo, you got ready for whatever was left of the day and leashed up Bread. You headed out towards the park hoping that it would clear your mind

As you made your way to the crosswalk that was in the direction of the park you usually went to, you noticed a woman on the bus. You recognized her from somewhere. Your soul pulled you to go to her but she was in the lane that was turning left.

She met your eyes and jolted towards you as the turn light turned green, causing your body to also jolt forward… only to be stopped by the cars that were driving in front of you.

Something inside of you needed to see her– yearned for her.

So you took the risk. You picked up Bread and weaved through the traffic while multiple cars honked at you.

You made it across the (seemingly) endless crosswalk, the bus she was in made a right turn and you watched her as she locked eyes with you from the back window/door of the bus as she faded into a silhouette

Defeated and broken.

You made your way to the park. You found a bench and sat down, letting Bread wander within the limits of his leash while you sank into your thoughts. Time seemed to blur as you replayed the fleeting moment over and over in your mind, wondering why it hurt so much.

The leash tugged at your hand, snapping you out of your thoughts. You looked up to see Bread straining toward another dog across the park. Your eyes followed the leash to its owner, and there she was—the woman from the bus, walking two dogs of her own.

Your body moved on its own. Like she had some sort of magnet pulling you.

You finally reached her. She was a distance away but it was her. It was for sure, the woman from the bus.

Bread noticed the two dogs and pulled you closer and closer to her before reaching them.

The three of them began sniffing each other and you politely said “Oh he’s very curious, sorry” You gaze focused on the dogs, trying your best to mask the turmoil inside you

“It’s okay,” she let out “they are too”

Awkward silence hung between you, the kind that feels heavy with unspoken words. You finally broke it, the question bursting out before you could stop it.

“Have we met before?”

She tilted her head slightly, as if trying to recall. “I think… maybe… Oh—! You’re the one that bumped into me at the bookstore!” she exclaimed quietly.

A tinge of sadness settled in your heart, as if that wasn’t the right answer, or maybe it was just too mundane to explain the ache in your chest. “Oh—! Yeah, that’s right… sorry about that again.” You chuckled, but it was hollow, devoid of real humor.. You swore it wasn’t that..Or maybe it was just that. Was it?

Silence hung in the air after she whispered a quiet “it’s okay”

“Well, I'll let you get on your way. Thanks for letting Bread meet them” You said as you fought back tears before (quite literally) tugging Bread away

“No problem, I thank you too..” she called after you, her voice tinged with a sadness that matched your own.

You two began to part ways

Why did your heart hurt so bad? Why does it feel like the Earth itself is laying on your chest right now?

Tears cascaded down your cheeks as you fought tooth and nail to keep walking away, lightly tugging on Bread’s harness as he also wanted to go back

You were almost to the turn out of the park before you heard a voice yell a familiar name

“Tzuyu!”

You froze, turning around slowly, your heart pounding in your chest. There she was. The lost memories of her rushed back into your mind. The woman from the bookstore, the bus, your dreams. Tears streaked her face, but she was smiling—a radiant, beautiful smile that lit up her entire face.

“My name is Tzuyu!” she said again, her voice trembling with emotion, a laugh escaping her lips as another tear raced down her dimpled cheek.

You felt your own smile forming, though it felt awkward and lopsided, as if you weren’t quite sure how to use your face anymore. “Tzuyu-ya!” you called back, your voice cracking with emotion.

“I feel… I feel like I know you!” you said, the words tumbling out of you, raw and desperate.

Her smile grew even wider, if that was possible. “I.. I feel the same way!” she replied, walking closer to you with each step.

“I think we finally found each other, Tzuyu.” You began closing the distance between you two

A tear slipped down her cheek, but she was smiling, a smile that spoke of happiness, of a future you could finally share.

“I’m so glad,” she whispered, stepping closer, her arms wrapping around you in a tight, desperate embrace. “I’m so glad I found you.”

You held her close, feeling her warmth, her heartbeat against yours while tears streamed down your face. The world seemed to melt away, leaving just the two of you, together at last.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt at peace. The dreams, the longing, the months of searching—they had all led you here, to this moment, to her.

Finally, after all this time, you were home.

#tzuyu x reader #tzuyu imagines #twice x reader #chou tzuyu #momo x reader #chou tzuyu x reader #tzuyu x f!reader #twice tzuyu #tzuyu #twice #twice moodboard #tzuyu moodboard #twice x you #tzuyu x y/n #twice icons #tzuyu imagine #kytalks #tzuyu icons #kywrites

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raudart · 10 days ago

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Sparkeater AU Timeline

[ MASTERPOST ]

Reanimation [ Post-canon divergence immediately after Predacons Rising ] -- Starscream is found dead at Darkmount a few days after the Predacon attack and his spark spontaneously reignites. His frame is brought back aboard the wrecked Nemesis for repairs and to be further studied by the Autobots and Knock Out.

Transformation [ several weeks ] -- Knock Out begins the process of repairing Starscream's damaged frame, discovering that his spark has mutated due to the presence of dark energon in his spark chamber when it reignited. During this time, the Autobots are fascinated by Starscream's spark and begin to study it, experimenting with intent to replicate his immortality outlier. Over the course of several weeks, his frame changes into that of a sparkeater, and Knock Out steps in to help him keep his new condition a secret. The Autobots start becoming more aware of the danger in their midst as the Vehicons begin to disappear at an increasing rate.

Confinement [ several months ] -- The Autobots put the pieces together and deduce that Starscream has been killing and consuming Vehicon sparks, and that Knock Out has been hiding the bodies to reduce suspicion. They place Starscream in solitary confinement in a cell located deep within the Nemesis's lower deck, and Knock Out is confined to quarters. The entire crew are all under strict orders to keep as far away as possible from the lower levels. Starscream is left alone in the dark to starve, wasting away as the Autobots argue over what to do with him.

Stasis [ 15 years ] -- Ratchet proposes safely containing Starscream in a stasis pod until a proper solution for his condition can be worked out. At first, Starscream is reluctant, but eventually agrees it would be better than prolonging his own suffering. He is kept in the medbay where Knock Out tends to the pod and intermittently checks the conditions within it as time begins to pass. The world moves on. The pod is moved from place to place while Cybertron is rebuilt, and all the while Knock Out continues to check in on him from time to time.

Reunion [ 1 year ] -- Knock Out has made a name for himself as a successful aerosurgeon working in newly restored Iacon, but leads a lonely life at the top. Fully aware of the risks, he decides to free Starscream from stasis and brings him home to live in his penthouse apartment, but not before taking him out that night to hunt for sparks. Starscream gets used to life after the war, enjoying the stability and luxuries Knock Out provides him with, but the ceaseless hunger persists. He continues to hunt on the streets of Iacon, the killings not going unnoticed by the enforcers (who already have their servos full in the crime-ridden city). Knock Out contributes when he can, occasionally bringing the sparkeater to his clinic and offering up the sparks of mechs who have been left to expire under the knife. They evade the law for as long as they can, but know that it's only a matter of time until one of them gets caught.

Domesticity [ Present ] -- During one of their late-night hunts, Starscream senses a large gathering of sparks in one place far beyond the outskirts of Iacon. The duo travel out to investigate, discovering that a hot spot has started to grow, with new sparks popping up through the ground ripe and ready to be forged into frames. Its like an all-you-can-eat buffet for a sparkeater, and it eliminates the need to kill living mechs for sparks. A perfect little solution brought forth from the Well itself, moral and ethical concerns aside. The two continue living in domestic bliss, and while keeping Starscream around is sometimes more trouble than its worth, Knock Out is glad to have him back.

#transformers #maccadam #transformers prime #tfp #starscream #tfp starscream #tfp sparkeater au #sparkeater! starscream #tfp knockout #tfp knock out #koss #tfp spoilers #au timeline #tf au #lore dump #raud writes #raud says things #vampire shit going on here

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thistlerock · 3 months ago

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Hmmm okay I sat on it for half a day and have decided that the things I DONT like abt fantasy high webtoon so far aren't just me being a bitter fan of the og highly critical of an adaptation. It's still a little bit that though, so take this with a grain of salt.

- I have no problem with Riz being the main focus so far (I do think it makes a continuous plot easier to follow) but I really do hope we get more on the others. And I REALLY hope that the girls get actual attention on their backgrounds and characters? Idk, Gorgug and Fabian didn't get as much as Riz either but they got way more than the girls, especially Fig, and I will always be a little annoyed when male characters get more attention in action and/or fantasy stories. This is my biggest issue and the only one that I genuinely think could turn into an "okay no this is where the adaption is bad". Like, I'm gonna assume they either get flashbacks or new moments in the next few chapters (again I only read the free ones so far) but still. Arghfj.

- Kristen coins their party name by telling Daybreak she wants to hang with the Bad Kids. Since they'll all end up in detention eventually I'm sure we'll still get there and I'm not completely opposed to change but that is a pretty iconic line to leave out. I think if they get the name by someone else referring to them as such or if Kristen says it later that still works but y'know.

- I understand that a comic has to spoon feed the reader lore because Brennan can't just do it, lmao, but it does feel slightly out of character for the Riz we know to need explanations on how Agueford operates. Like, he would have done extensive research on it. This is very much an alternate universe/parallel timeline with minor differences situation and in this version Penny's only been missing for a week so he had less time to do research, yeah, but still. I don't think this is an inherent flaw and I do expect these Bad Kids to be slightly different than their counterparts, but yeah that bothered me a little bit.

- Riz's whole deal visually. I both love it because he's so cute and it's working on me exactly as intended and I'm also kinda mad that it's working. And I'm kind of mad at the fact it's a thing. He's a creature, he's a gross little guy. Yes the fanon portrayals of him are way more creature-ish than canon ones, but he is NOT cute even in canon. Look at his freshman year art and then look at this guy, insane difference. I get why they did that. And it works. It works SO well. Penelope's reaction to him suddenly makes perfect sense to me. This makes me so conflicted lmao. I understand that this an alternate version of him and not SUPPOSED to be the exact same but I don't think I'm gonna get over it, which is fine. Doesn't mean I'm not collecting screenshots of cute Riz. He really is squishable.

- Unless I misunderstood Fabian wasn't present when Ragh threw Riz! How will he The Ball him now? It's pretty easy to establish it either way (other people could call him that, especially on the Bloodrush team which Fabian will presumably try out for) but if it ends up not being Fabian that fully establishes Riz as The Ball (because let's be real, regardless of how persistent Ragh is, if Fabian didn't repeatedly call him that it would not have become his thing.) then I genuinely think that takes away from why their dynamic is fun! I am waiting with baited breath

- this is a minor thing but I wish Kristen wore shorts,,,like short overalls,,,,,,I FULLY understand why they didn't put her in tie dye I wouldn't wish repeatedly drawing that upon my worst enemy, and the corn coding IS pretty fun, and they DID keep her awful sandals. But shorts,,,,,my girl needs shorts for her summer camp fit,,,,

I do still find the webtoon enjoyable so far. I think liking adaptations of media you love is actually really hard because it'll almost never do it "right", but you kinda have to distance them from each other and go "okay this is the thing I like but from a different angle and that's okay, and I might be bothered by a lot of changes but that doesn't inherently make it bad". (Extreme example of this for me is death note. As an adaptation of the anime/manga the live action movie sucked ass, if you forget all about that it's a pretty good movie?? Obviously in the case of fantasy high the two are a LOT closer and this isn't a good comparison, but death note has taught me to at least try to view adaptations positively even if my first instinct is to be upset.) Idk, if they're the exact same then what's the point of adapting it.

So far I think it's a competent work, if flawed in some ways; the art is cute and some of the jokes (even the new ones) made me chuckle. The first 3 chapters were nice, I think this can be a fun thing to relive freshman year through and if it brings in even one fan that doesn't wanna watch two hour recordings of people sitting at a table rolling dice (fair) then that's really great! I'm curious to see the rest, but if they continue like this and give the girls their spotlight then I think it'll be pretty cool even if I'll always prefer the original

#i don't think this is perfect but it's been a pleasant surprise to me #yelling into megaphone #fantasy high webtoon #fantasy high #fantasy high webtoon spoilers #okay NOW I'm done talking about this #needed to get the thoughts out. the worms can finally leave me alone

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hypexion · 19 days ago

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At the end of The Reality War, the Doctor rewrites Belinda's timeline without her consent to make her into the mother of Poppy. I think this is badly written and quite sexist. I'm sorry, but there's probably no way to suddenly flatten out a character into "mother" without it being those two things.

But what if, actually, Belinda was actually a mother all along, and the Doctor fixed the timeline?

Well if that's true, the writing is even worse, and it's more sexist. Hooray! Also: there's a bonus horrifying implication.

I'm going to start with the quality of writing angle first, because that's the main thing that initially aggravated me about the "Belinda was always a mother" theory. To be blunt, there is simply no strong textual evidence for it. Nobody was posting theories that Belinda had a child before The Reality War, because there was no reason to think that. If the evidence can only be found post-hoc, as random pieces of subtext, then it hasn't been presented well. And since Belinda being a mother all along should be a signifigant aspect of her character (if only in a negative space kind of way), then it needs to be presented at that level.

While it's certainly tempting to claim that the audience is stupid and Just Doesn't Get it, there's a point where that stops working. If the intention is that Belinda was a mother, then wasn't, then the Doctor fixed things, for most viewers that was not conveyed. The most common reading is that Belinda wasn't a mother, and then the Doctor rewrote her timeline to make her one. If the theory is true, then the series as presented utterly failed to make that clear. You cannot hinge this kind of thing on random background details and the running gag of "mavity". You actually have to build it into the text.

The Well presented the perfect opportunity for this. Aliss' motivation is to return home to her daughter. Belinda has absolutely zero reaction to this. Sure, she wants to help Aliss, but that's clearly motivated by her generally being a good person. Even a single line of Belinda bringing up Aliss' daughter as a reason not to leave her behind would be far more than the entire season actually gives.

The Story & The Engine provides a similar chance. Now, "Belinda sees Poppy for no good reason" does not count as foreshadowing for what happens in Wish World or The Reality War. It definitely doesn't suggest that Poppy is Belinda's secretly erased from reality daughter. But what The Story & The Engine does have is Abena, who has a less than happy relationship with her father. A child seperated from a parent by the parent's own choice. And again, this passes without comment from Belinda. It would only need one or two lines when Belinda is talking with Abena about what Anansi did. A reaction along the lines of "I would never do that to my daughter (pause) I mean, if I had a daughter" would be enough. Especially if the first part is said conversationally, and the second part as if Belinda is trying to reassure herself that such a thing is true.

Of course, this analysis mostly gets eaten by the Occam's Razor of "the obvious reading is true, there was no original Belinda is a mother timeline". Communication is key, and if the "original mother timeline" theory is true, it's only a theory because it was so poorly communicated.

So that's the writing angle. But the theory also amplifies the existing sexist resolution to be more sexist.

By positioning the timeline where Belinda is a mother as the correct timeline, the theory implicitly states that the non-mother Belinda is incorrect. You can word it however you want, but the theory is saying "a correct woman is a mother". This is an uncharitable reading, but the theory is an uncharitable sexist reading of Belinda's chatacter, so I will continue.

The extended problem is that the theoy also implies that motherhood is the only legitimate reason that Belinda would not want to travel with the Doctor. That her insistence on wanting to return to a specific time is only valid if she has a child waiting for her. Which is simply not true. Going missing, even for a few days, runs the risk of derailing Belinda's life. "My evil ex-boyfriend sent robots to kidnap me to another planet" is not a reasonable sounding excuse for missing work. But if the Doctor has a time machine, her problem is seemingly solve - he can drop her back the next morning, and her life continues seamlessly where it left off.

As an aside, there is nothing wrong with Belinda being a mother. If The Robot Revolution had ended with her saying "No, you need to bring me back to the day I left because my daughter is waiting for me", that would have been a fine character hook. Once you start throwing in extra timelines and suggesting Belinda as a mother is better off in everyway, that's when things get dodgy.

Anyhow, I promised a horrifying implication. So, it's suggested a few times in The Reality War that the reason the Doctor and Belinda's wish child is Poppy the space baby is due to the Doctor's (and maybe Ruby's) memories of the space babies. But if Belinda had a child in an "original" timeline, that child wouldn't be Poppy. Because Poppy is only there because of the Doctor.

So Belinda's real child was erased from reality.

And the Doctor didn't save Belinda's child. He saved his own, effectively overwriting yet another person's life to achieve it.

Belinda won't know the difference? Well that's alright then.

#doctor who #the reality war #fifteenth doctor #it's like sentitheory for doctor who but sentitheory had at least some evidence

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sunlightmurdock · 1 year ago

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The Odyssey | 1.2 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist

Bradley just can’t keep his hands, or his thoughts, to himself. People are starting to notice.

Warnings: enemies to lovers, power imbalance (professor / student relationship), age gap (22 / 33), swearing, infidelity, making out, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, handjobs, cum, bradley dislikes her fiancé, deception, also inaccuracies in the timeline of Pompeii and the telling of Greek mythology, very brief allusion to SA at the very end, 18+ minors dni, wc: 7.5k

…

“So there are rumours in the city that Psyche is the second coming of Venus, or the daughter of Venus — something like that. But, Venus — Aphrodite — sends her son Cupid — Eros — to shoot Psyche with an arrow to make her fall in love with something hideous.”

You’ve read stories like this before.

“He scratches himself with the arrow, and falls in love with Psyche the second that he sees her. But Psyche’s two sisters are married already, and no one seems to want to marry Psyche, so her dad starts to think they’ve incurred the wrath of the gods. He consults the oracle, and is told that Psyche is going to be married to this hideous, terrifying dragon-creature.”

“Ew.” You scoff.

He snorts. “This part of the story is where it gets kind of interesting. The oracle says that she is to be left on a cliff for her new husband, and they send her there in her funeral attire. Death and marriage become just the one central theme of being a total transition into the unknown.”

You’re quiet against him. He pauses. The ugly lampshade seems drawn to the rock on your finger, making it twinkle in the light.

“Anyway, Zephyrus — which is the god and personification of the Westerly wind, which is the most favourable of — I’ll explain it another time. Zephyrus gets Pysche ready to meet her fated match, and sets her in a meadow, where she falls asleep. She falls asleep in this perfect place, and wakes up transported to a kind of grove.”

You rise and fall with his chest as he sighs.

“Then, she finds this incredible house, with big golden columns, a carved ceiling and silver walls embossed with wild animals, and mosaic floors,” Bradley glances down at your fingers toying with the buttons on his shirt. He squeezes your waist. “And a voice comes out of nowhere telling herself to make herself at home, and she’s presented with a great feast.”

“The dragon doesn’t sound so bad.” You mumble into his chest, drawing a breathy chuckle from him.

“Well— she doesn’t trust him so easily. She’s impressed, but terrified. But, y’know, he’s her husband, and it’s technically their wedding night. So she lets herself be guided to her bedroom at night where she has sex in complete darkness, with something that she can’t see.”

“The dragon?”

“Well, he never lets her look at him. He always leaves before sunrise and doesn’t allow her to look at him. But she learns to like his visits, and becomes pregnant — in this version, anyway — but her family haven’t heard from her at all, so her husband allows Zephyrus to bring one of Psyche’s sisters to visit her.”

You’ve got plenty of opinions on what you have heard so far, but you keep them to yourself as Bradley continues with the tale.

“Her sister is jealous of how happy Psyche is, in this magical house, with her mysterious husband, you know? — So, she kind of reminds Psyche that he’s supposed to be this gross monster, who will kill the child when it’s born. She manipulates Psyche into wanting to know who her husband really is.”

“So, one night after her husband has fallen asleep, Psyche finds an oil lamp and a dagger — to find out if her husband is a monster, and to kill him if he is,” Bradley shifts his hips, stiffening as you sit forwards and press a soft kiss to the glimpse of his chest under his shirt. “And um… well, she sees him and he’s beautiful. Incredible. She’s so happy. But, she spills oil from the lamp on his skin, and he knows that she has betrayed him by looking, so he leaves her.”

“Why was he so against her seeing him if he was so beautiful?” You sit up and turn around, barely noticing as Bradley catches hold of your knee. He tugs it over his lap and pulls you across him, sitting you against his middle.

“Because he defied his mother by not making her fall for something disgusting. Aphrodite wouldn’t have allowed them to be together,”

“Oh, I understand.” You confirm, resting your hands against his stomach.

“So first, Psyche sees the god Pan. He recognises how in love she is, and she recognises his divinity. Then, she starts to walk the world looking for her love. She starts by going back to her sisters and telling them what happened, but they’re both pissed that her husband was Eros. So, both sisters try to offer themselves as a replacement to him by climbing the rock face and casting themselves to Zephyrus, but they both fall to their deaths.”

You frown, which seems to spark amusement in him. He gives you a calm shrug and tugs at your hips, making you flinch as the cold metal of his belt touches the warm skin of your inner thigh.

“So, Psyche keeps on wandering, looking for Eros. She comes across the temple of Ceres, and finds all of these offerings that are thrown everywhere and — it’s a mess. So she organizes it all, because offerings to the gods shouldn’t be neglected, and Ceres appears to her. Psyche begs her for help, and Ceres acknowledges that she needs it, but can’t offer any help because she can’t go against a fellow goddess.”

You shift uncomfortably, pushing away from his belt and settling against his thigh instead.

“Um… right, so after Ceres, the same thing happens at the Temple of Juno, and Psyche realizes that she has to pledge herself to Venus. This is what Venus wanted all along, right? — So, she turns Psyche over to her two Handmaids, Worry and Sadness, for her to be tortured. They ruin her clothes, and hurt her, and mock her for conceiving a child in a sham marriage.”

Your face creases, frowning back at him.

“Venus leaves her with this huge mass of different grains, and demands that they’re all sorted into different heaps by dawn. But a little ant takes pity of Psyche, and assembles a fleet to complete the task for her. We also find out around this point that Eros is in the same house, recovering from a wound, but he doesn’t know that Psyche is there.”

His hands bracket your thighs, and they have been since he sat you in his lap. Watching his Adam’s apple rise and fall with every word, your lips twitch at the corners as you think of the other day in the library. His lips on your neck.

“At dawn, Venus sets her a second task. She has to cross a river, and fetch golden wool from an untameable, aggressive sheep on the other side. Well, Psyche’s heartbroken and worn down by this point, so she plans to drown herself in the river, but she is saved by a reed and gathers the wool caught on the briars of it.

He can see it on your face that you’re up to something, but he pauses to let you kiss him anyway. Soft, and slow. His hands grabbing firm at your waist.

His lips graze yours, his nose brushing your cheek as he continues on with Pysche’s tale, fingers curling into the pale pink chiffon.

“For her third task, Venus gives her this little crystal vial and sends her to collect the black water from the river Styx. So, Psyche climbs the cliff face to get to it, and as she does,” Bradley is interrupted mid sentence as you press forwards and kiss his mouth once more, then the corner of his lips. He hums softly and tries to recapture his train of thought. “She’s attacked by the dragons that surround it — Jupiter himself takes pity on her and sends his eagle to protect her from the beasts and collect the water.”

Your nose brushes the curve of his jaw, soft lips parted just enough to tickle his skin with your cool breath right before you close them around his pulse point and suck.

He’s holding your hips, nice and steady — he could pull you back and stop you, but he doesn’t. His long fingers dig into the meat of your thighs.

“Keep going, what happens next?” You urge him, pushing lightly at his chest and pressing another longing kiss to the length of his throat. Your fingertips slip under the unbuttoned top of his shirt, skimming the flushed skin underneath.

He swallows, leaning his head back against the wooden headboard. You gasp softly as he squeezes firmly at your waist and lifts his hips from the bed.

“So, for the last trial, Venus sends her to the underworld to collect a dose of beauty from Proserpina, the queen of the underworld,” He’s painfully aware that his voice has grown thick and that he’s blushing like a kid, and suddenly the details of the story seem a little bit blurrier. Then, your tongue dips out from between your lips and wets the spot you had just kissed — exactly the way he does.

“Christ.” He chokes out, letting his head fall forwards to rest against your shoulder. “Do you get off on trying to make me cum in my pants or something?”

It’s at that point that he remembers exactly who he is speaking to, and how you’ve reacted to this kind of profanity before. Nose wrinkled, he’s wincing as he pulls back to look at you again.

You’re smiling. Well, biting at your cheeks in an effort not to, but smiling nonetheless. Your nose is wrinkled too, like you’re trying not to like the idea quite as much as you do.

“Oh, you do.” He scoffs.

“No, I just…” You huff and then shrug, glancing down at that loose button on his shirt. He watches your fingers toy with it absently, painfully aware of how his straining cock is wedged against his thigh. “Hadn’t really thought about myself being sexy before. I mean you’ve given plenty of people orgasms, right?”

He knows better than to answer that question, so he just stares back in response.

“I don’t think I’ve ever come close.” You tell him.

His hands feel electric as they skim under that pretty pink dress, a twinkle in his eyes and a slight quirk to the right corner of his mouth. “Now who’s thinking too much, huh?”

With that, he kisses you. The deep and dirty kind as he presses forwards and grabs hold of the back of your neck. Every time, the surprise gets you and makes you part your lips. His tongue dips into your mouth as he pushes his hips off of bed and into yours. Only, this time, whatever he does has you making the sweetest little sound.

Right against his mouth too, a pleased little mewl. He groans right back onto your lips, fingertips trailing over the fabric of your underwear all of a sudden. You had been too distracted to even notice them creeping their way up your thigh.

Heart racing, your fingers skim into the curls at the nape of his neck, eyes locked on him. Swallowing hard, you glance down towards his just parted lips and catch sight of your lipstick printed faintly on the side of his neck. A beat passes where he just watches you studying his lips, waiting for you to kiss him.

Finally, you lean forwards and your cushioned lips are on his once again. Pouted and oh, so gentle. His fingers curl at the back of your neck, his nose bumping yours as he takes lead and lets you sink into the feeling of him.

Even with the thin linen of his shirt, and the slight crack in the window to the left of the bed, Bradley hasn’t ever felt quite so hot.

“Can I feel you?” He asks against your mouth, trailing the pad of his thumb across your clit through the thin fabric of your underwear.

“If I can feel you.” It’s not an exactly well thought-through plan, you don’t have the logistics of it figured out, but he’s kissing feverishly across your face and, what with it pressing into your thigh, there’s only one thing on your mind.

“I can’t, baby—“

“It’s just touching.” The second that the words are out of your mouth, you’re struck with a strange kind of deja vu. Not here, not with him. An outer body kind of thing. Either way, you aren’t left with much time to think about it as Bradley dips forwards and captures your mouth once again.

You let yourself fall with him, even with little choice once he wraps you in his arms, and he turns the two of you until you’re on your back and he’s between your legs.

This is exactly what got you so worked up earlier, so afraid. It feels so right to be moving in sync with him like this, your hands, your mouths, your bodies. His weight pressing into your stomach and his thick arms bracketing your body, engulfing you in him.

As he nips and rocks and caresses, you’re happy. It couldn’t possibly be wrong if it just feels this easy. His blue jeans are tented, straining against the pink of your dress, his shirt untucked and messy.

It’s like the two of you think of his shirt at once, as he props himself up with one hand and tears open those already loosely attached buttons with the other. All the while, his mouth is hot on yours, deep, soft sounds spilling from his lips.

He pulls it swiftly off of his shoulders and drops it haphazardly onto the floor, then there’s a pause. He’s sitting back on his ankles, both of you struck with the same thought once again. His gaze falls down to your dress.

“Should… Do you want me to take it off?” You figure, bringing your hands up to cover your chest, still blinking at his freshly exposed skin. Wide, angled shoulders, sitting square and rising and falling heavily with each breath. His skin taut with muscles, but without the definition of a man who keeps them for an ego boost. Tanned skin, dusted with light brown hair.

“I want you to,” He gives a slow nod of his head. “But I can work around it.”

“No, okay… I can take it off,” You lift one hand to stop him and swiftly tear it back the second that it touches his bare stomach. “Just— give me a second— the zipper—“

Bradley hooks one arm under your hips, and the other under your back, hugging you swiftly to his body and covering you with his weight. You squeak quietly as his fingers curl around the zipper and his lips work feverishly across your jaw.

The zipper barely whines as he pulls it slowly along the length of your spine, feeling the material go loose between the two of you. His mouth follows the sound south, feverish at your neck and down to your clavicle.

Squeezing your eyes tight shut, you let you shoulders relax and the material fall slack, giving his hands the freedom to tear it off and discard it like he had his shirt. Even so, the second that his warm mouth touches the centre of your chest, you push back into the pillows, scorched by the feeling.

“You want me to zip it back up?” Bradley asks coolly, one of his hands squeezing softly at your balled up fist. You hadn’t even noticed you were grabbing at the bedsheets like that.

“No, I just — — don’t want to watch when you see me.”

And that just about breaks his heart. He thinks back to the phone call he had that night in December, when Malcolm had finally picked up. Bradley had been standing beside your bed with that stupid plastic phone in his hand, keeping you on your side so that you didn’t choke if you puked — and that little shithead had answered laughing.

At first, Bradley had regretted threatening the little weasel. It could have cost him his career, especially if you had decided to flip the narrative on what happened in his car — luckily you hadn’t remembered that part. But god, hearing the arrogance and thoughtlessness, Bradley doesn’t regret threatening to knock some sense into that kid one bit.

And now, seeing what eight years of supposedly loving that kid has brought you to, he doesn’t regret what he’s about to do either. In fact, what he’s about to do might be a little bit to do with the fact that he would purposely like to spite your fiancé.

“Why don’t you want to watch?”

“I don’t know. In case you don’t like me.”

“Oh, I like you,” You hear him breathe out a chuckle as his hand reaches across yours, peeling your fingers off of the bedsheets and stroking his thumb across your relaxed knuckles. “C’mere. Feel.”

As expected, it works like a charm. Your eyes spring open so wide they look for a moment like they’re going to pop right out of your head. Heat spreads like wildfire, starting in the tips of your ears — it engulfs your face and your chest, spreading down your arms with no sign of stopping.

Sitting back on his knees, his chest bare and his shoulders squared proudly, he’s looking you right in the eye as he squeezes his hand around yours. Under your palm, still within the confines of his jeans, you can feel all of him, straining against the denim.

“Okay, but men get erections over ridiculous things sometimes—“ You reason as you pull your hand away from him. He lets it go instantly, but follows your hand away, planting his free hand into the pillow beside you and forcing you to lean back as he comes in close.

You think first of all that you’re ready for what he’s going to say. Then, he leans in closer. All the way past your face until his lips are grazing your ear.

“You want to know why I’m hard?”

“Mm.” You croak out, fingers once again balled into the sheets.

“I’m hard because I can’t stop thinking about how wet you were that night in Venice, and how you kissed me the next morning. You know you talk in your sleep?” His voice against your earlobe makes you shiver and pull back, frowning disapprovingly.

“I do not.”

“You do, baby — do you know how hard it is for a man to get a good night’s sleep when you’re whispering his name?” He turns his head towards your face and kisses your jaw softly, reaching out and grabbing at your hips. He tugs you just a bit closer and the dress falls just slightly. You let it go.

And before you know it, your fingers are curled into his hair, your legs are wrapped around his waist and he’s unhooking that pretty pink dress from your left ankle. The second that it’s off completely, his hands go for his belt. The leather clangs against the metal buckle and against the button on his jeans loudly as he fumbles to work it open one handed. His other hand cups your jaw. His thumb sits on your left cheek, his four fingers sit on your right, he holds your head straight as he sucks at the supple skin of your bottom lip.

“Fuck me…” Bradley mutters, his forehead inches from yours. Looking down between your two bodies, both of his hands abandon their previous posts and go for your middle. Instinctively, you lift your knees, hunching forwards in an attempt to cover yourself. “Stop, honey, let me see.”

“You’ve seen plenty of women.” You remind him, crossing your arms over the unlined, unremarkable, comfortable bra covering your chest.

Bradley teeters on the edge of being amused or upset by your comment. You’re nervous. He’ll give you that one. He looks up at you as he crouches between your legs, “So, I know what I’m talking about, huh?”

With that, he leans down and presses his lips to your stomach, right below your belly button.

“I could look at you all day.” He tells your skin, without looking up from his onslaught of delicate kisses, his fingers walking along the curve of your waist and back down again to your hips. As his hands skim down to your thighs, he takes note of just how much you’re trembling. Finally, he lets his lip graze the waistband of your underwear.

If he was being really truthful, and if he wasn’t holding back, he would’ve popped open the clasp on that bra about a minute and a half ago. Bradley has seen just about every kind of underwear there is to see, and his favourite has always remained the same.

There’s quite simply no better alternative to naked. His mouth works along your navel, headed straight for the apex of your thighs, and he thinks to himself that he couldn’t care less about what kind of underwear you’re wearing, until he sees it.

He’s on his front, face to face with the pink underwear with an embroidered Wednesday across the front. It is, indeed, Wednesday.

“These,” He rubs softly at each of your hips, pressing a wet kiss to the embroidery. “Are very cute.”

“Oh my god, no—“

“But I want them off.”

That’s what that look in his eyes is. You get it now, as he curls his fingers into the sides of your underwear, and it makes your stomach erupt into butterflies. The last time he took your underwear off, he didn’t get that good of a look — this time, you’ll be naked. But, he still has you nodding dumbly at him.

“Wait — yours too.” You realize.

Bradley nods his head, gently guiding the pink underwear down your legs. He’s not looking at your face. He’s practically salivating. “I will. I just want a taste.”

He lifts your legs upwards, slipping the panties off of your ankles, dropping them to the bed and grabbing the backs of your thighs. Legs pressed together and pushed back toward your abdomen just slightly, you can’t quite see his face, but your skin is hot with the knowledge of exactly what he’s looking at.

There’s a moment before you feel anything at all, where you know that he is just staring. It takes everything in your power to make yourself keep still, not squirm away, to not say something stupid.

Then, you feel his fingers right there, trailing through your excitement, examining exactly how you’re feeling about him. You turn your face sharply to the left, aiming for the respite of hiding it in a pillow. But next, he sits forwards and grabs your hips, lifting them off of the bed and bringing you to his mouth.

Right as your heart feels like it’s about to burst out of your chest, you feel his lips on you, kissing softly, following mostly the same pattern his fingers had. The tip of his nose bumps your clit as he flattens his tongue and licks upwards until he’s at that sensitive bundle of nerves.

But he doesn’t stay there. With how you’re trembling against him, he knows better than to overstimulate you. The last thing he wants is to make you cry on your second time at this. His mouth turns towards your thighs, sucking and kissing at random.

Your soft skin, bristled by his rough jaw. He can tell you’re trying so hard to sit still for him. You’re so polite when you want to be.

Then, he’s right back where he wants to be, his mouth presses firmly to your soaked core and he does the exact same thing once again. Familiarity is the easiest path to comfort. His tongue follows that slow, familiar stripe up to your clit and flicks softly at it. Then, he presses impossibly closer and wraps his lips around the sensitive bud, sucking softly.

“Oh—“ You squirm, trying to reach for his shoulders, your thighs pushing back against him.

Finally, he relents. You want to touch him and that joke about ruining these jeans is about to become a reality if he doesn’t do something soon. Your head spins as he moves between your legs and kisses at your mouth, eyes open and blinking as you taste yourself on his lips.

The sound of a zipper breaks through the surprise, eyes widening further as you watch him shove his jeans down his legs.

“Still with me?” Bradley checks, kissing the corner of your lips as his jeans hit the floor. You swallow softly, glancing down at him kneeling between your legs. He’s wearing loose fitted blue boxers — well, you imagine they looked more loose before. All that’s separating him from you is that thin cotton material.

“Mhm.”

“Still want to touch me? — Tell the truth, honey. That’s all I want.” Your eyes are closed, head tipped back as he sucks his way along your jaw. You nod weakly at him, wondering if you look half as wild as you feel.

“Yeah.” You follow his mouth, chasing his lips until he kisses you hard.

You lean in once again to kiss him the second that he pulls back, and then, blinking slowly at him, a fluttering erupts in your chest. Pride surges through your ribs and into your stomach as you take note of the darkened hunger and arousal in his expression.

“But you can’t laugh at me.” You breathe out, willing that funny feeling in your stomach to just go away so that you can focus.

Every single word that spills out of your mouth, Bradley gets that little bit closer to knocking your fiancé on his ass the second that the two of you are back at home. He wonders what this asshole possibly said to you to make you so timid.

“‘M not laughing.” Bradley answers you, his voice calm as his hands skim over your naked hips. He swallows softly as he reaches for his own boxers, settling down at your side as he pushes them down his legs.

Suddenly, you’re far from laughing too. Your mouth is dry as he lays down and pumps his hand once around the length of his dick. It sits just below his belly button, standing to attention, swollen and red. Impressive. Big, like the rest of him.

He tucks an arm under your waist and pulls you across the bed, into him. Your stomach presses into his length while his fingers curl around the curve of your ass, teasing that line between your thigh and your pussy.

“Can I have a kiss?” Bradley whispers, nudging at the tip of nose with his to guide your head back. He knows that’s where your confidence lies. You’re smiling softly as you dip forwards to kiss him, well within your comfort zone. “Thanks, honey. Can I have your hand?”

As he asks, his hand inches forward until you can feel him once again brushing through your excitement. Another slow kiss, sucking softly at your top slip as he pulls back.

The tip of his index finger swipes through gently, his throat thickening his voice with desire. Your hips push back, and the tip of his finger slides in with no resistance.

You press your lips together, presenting your open palm for him to use. Bradley pulls back to look at your surprisingly steady hand. With the hand that isn’t toying between your legs, he takes hold of it and brings it to his dick.

He knows there has to be some natural curiosity buried under all of those nerves, and he’s not into the idea of using you like a doll. He takes your thumb between two of his fingers, swiping it through the pearl of precum on his tip, and down toward his shaft. Then, he lets your hand go.

With the hand that’s between your legs, his finger presses in again, further this time, and you squeeze around him in response. You trail three fingers from the top all the way down to the base of his pelvis. It’s smoother than you thought it would feel. Fuller. Just… not what you were expecting, maybe.

With one finger inside of you, his others explore between your legs, the long digits easily reaching across your lips and stretching towards your clit. You tuck your head between his shoulder and jaw, cuddling close to his chest as your fingers sprawl across the soft, ridged skinned of his length.

It’s not the most comfortable for him, stretching his arm around you like this, but he’s so entranced in watching you touch him that he forgets to mind.

You gasp sharply as his finger presses deeper than before, curling into a spongy part of your walls. Bradley kisses the sound away, his free hand coming up to cup the side of your throat.

“Does that feel good?” He whispers against your lips, kisses growing eager as he pushes his hips forwards, rocking himself against your bare stomach. You squeak back, nodding your head at him.

“Can you show me what to do?” You’re both being so quiet, sharing breaths and whispering even though you’re just about as close as two people could possibly be. Bradley takes your hand again, at once he pulls his finger out of you and dips yours between your own legs. Reeling, you just watch as he circles your clit with your fingers, soaking them before pulling back.

By the time he wraps your hand around his cock, eclipsing it with his own, it’s plenty slick. He lifts it slowly, and drags it back down, pumping it a few times on his length.

“Just like that, little firmer — yeah — yeah, that’s good,” He murmurs, now able to reach back between your legs more directly. He captures your mouth into one of his specialty dizzying, open-mouthed kisses as he presses his middle finger back into you. “Fuck, you’re so, so wet.”

It occurs to him briefly that maybe he’s in too deep — if this is how his first attempt at trying to convince you to further your studies has ended. It doesn’t stop him in the slightest.

He slows his motions next, rocking his hips into your hand as his ring finger hugs his middle and toys at your entrance before easing into you. You gasp, wincing slightly.

“Shh, shh… does that hurt?” Bradley whispers, searching your face for answers as your hand stills around him.

“A bit.” You croak out.

“Come here, honey, just give it one second. Tell me if it hurts any more.” Your head drops back down to his chest as the rough pad of his thumb circles at your clit. Trusting his expertise, you put your attention into touching him instead, guiding your hand up and down along his length. He pants softly, his heartbeat thudding against your cheek.

Slowly, he starts to work his fingers into you, moving them just barely to accommodate you to the feeling. A gentle curl of the two digits has you crying out softly into his bare skin. His cock twitches in your hand in response.

It’s been a long time since he has felt so out of his depth. He’s afraid of stepping a foot out of line. He wants you to trust him. It’s why he hasn’t yet snapped open the clasp on your bra — he doesn’t want to grope at you like some animal and scare you off. Getting to that point seems like a long stretch away.

But, the way you exhale softly and lift your head to kiss at his neck calms his nerves just a bit.

As his fingers push in further together, spurred on by the needy mewling noises you’re making, Bradley suddenly remembers the throbbing in his dick.

A pleased moan spills from your swollen lips as you drag them across his collarbones and along the protruding vein in the side of his neck, your hand still loosely working at a steady rhythm around him.

“Faster.” He hums into your mouth, rocking his hips eagerly into your hand as he curls his fingers into you. You keen helplessly into the feeling, squeezing your palm tighter and doing exactly what he had. A simple up and down tug.

“God, you’re the sweetest fuckin’ thing.” He doesn’t swear with you often, and really you’re not much of a fan of men with dirty mouths usually — but this, the gravel and desperation spilling from his voice has you throwing yourself at him, rocking yourself onto his fingers. “Taking it so well.”

Your mouth hangs open, legs spreading wider apart for him to angle himself closer. Bradley studies the look on your face, breathing heavy, knowing that if he does see you in his classroom in September, he’s in big trouble.

He’s not sure how he’ll ever look at you again and not think of this wide-eyed, trusting expression on your face.

His free hand comes up to brush your hair back off of your forehead, not quite noticing the lovestruck way you’re watching him as your stomach starts to tighten and tremble. His lips press softly to your forehead, just above your eyebrow, and then your cheek, just below your eye.

“You’re perfect.” He whispers, smiling at the way it makes your mouth hang open in a rounder shape. Then, he leans in and sucks softly at your bottom lip. “How’s it feeling?”

You swallow through the dryness in your mouth, suddenly remembering to close it, then you try to nod at him. “Good.”

“Real good, or just good?” He nudges at the tip of your nose with his, fucking his hips into your hand as his skilled fingers drive the thoughts out of your head. Another slow, dirty kiss and it feels like you might just melt into him and become one if he does it again.

“Real good.” You whimper.

You’re hugging his fingers so tight that you wouldn’t even have to be touching him for him to still be on the verge of cumming already. He gasps and covers your hand with his, slowing it around his cock as his fingers continue into you relentlessly.

“Was — Did I hurt you?”

“The opposite.” Bradley reassures you, breathing hard as he starts to slowly guide your hand along him again. “You almost made me cum.”

Your eyes hurry open, right as something Bradley does makes you squirm right into him and gasp out loud. He watches you watching him, trying to see what you’re doing, what it looks like.

“Oh — mm, don’t… you want to?” Your other hand comes up to grab firmly at his thick shoulder as your eyes squeeze shut again. You can barely feel your legs. Bradley grunts softly in your ear, his thumb working firm circles around your sensitive clit.

“Not ‘til you do.”

Luckily for him, he doesn’t have to wait long. Well, really there is nothing lucky about it. His moves are tried and tested. Before you know it, you’re coming all over his hand, babbling against the hot skin of his neck as you try to find the right word. Legs trembling, you cling onto his shoulder as he rocks your other hand around his length.

You can feel how close he is, how close he wants to be to you. He’s practically engulfing you, turning his face towards your neck and groaning enough to make you wish he hadn’t ever stopped touching you.

“I’m gonna cum.” Bradley seems to realize at once that you probably aren’t going to like what’s about to happen. He kisses you hard as he untangles your fingers from his and takes over, pressing his weight into you, chasing his own high.

Grabbing firmly at your waist, he pulls you against him and breathes hard into the crook of your neck, making it unmistakable as he groans your name. You watch, lips parted, as he coats his hand in his release, the fluid dripping onto his taut, shaking stomach.

“God, fuck—“ Bradley pants, swallowing hard and letting his head fall back against the pillow. So much for trying to keep his hands off of you.

You push yourself up so that you’re sitting, curling your knees up to your chest, taking a moment to observe him while his eyes are closed. All golden skin and soft lines, broad and strong. If he existed all those years ago, someone certainly would have wanted to carve him out of stone too.

“So, how does that myth end?”

He hums in amusement from beside you as his blurred thoughts start to come back to him. He’d almost forgotten what you had both even been talking about. He swallows thickly and glances down at the mess he has made on his hand.

“They survive it all, and get married,” He answers simply as he pushes himself up from the bed and searches for something to clean himself with.

Making a trip to the shared bathroom on this floor would probably be frowned upon in his current state.

“Their baby in the story goes on to be Voluptas — she’s known as the goddess of sensual pleasures.” He settles on a hand towel that seems untouched, and wiping off his hand and his stomach, then his dick. He turns around and finds you staring at him like he grew an extra head.

Quickly, you stand up and look towards the window like you hadn’t been staring.

“They went through all that just for it to be fine in the end.” You muse, shaking your head slightly as you grab your pyjama set and step into them, buttoning the shirt over your bare chest.

Now clothed in his boxers, Bradley presses his chest into your back and mouths softly at your neck.

“That’s how it always goes, more or less, right?” He decides, closing his eyes finally, turning his face towards your hair. You hum quietly. There’s a soft pause as his hand brushes over your bare stomach under your pajama shirt and then grabs firmly at your waist again. He sighs. “I should go.”

There’s no way he’ll be able to sneak out of here in the morning. You’ve all got an early checkout and with everyone being on the same floor, he’s just asking to get caught sneaking out of your room.

You whine quietly and turn towards him.

“Really?”

“Unless you want to explain to the class exactly what I was doing in your room all night, baby, yeah.” He murmurs, kissing the top of your head. Despite your tired protests, you do let him leave without either one of you speaking about the line you have once again crossed.

He lets himself into his room, shirt barely buttoned, belt barely fastened. Luke is sitting upright with his back against the headboard of his twin bed, eating a packet of miniature cookies and watching an Italian dub of The Golden Girls.

They meet eyes, silent as the door clicks shut behind Bradley. It’s 3:45am. Luke hasn’t seen Bradley since they parted ways after the class dinner at 10pm.

“Hey, buddy.” Bradley mumbles, kicking his shoes off and already starting to unbutton his shirt.

“Hey.” Luke mumbles back, eyeing Bradley curiously. They haven’t spent much time together recently. Luke has noticed that he basically has the room to himself.

He scoops up a handful of the cookies and fills his mouth as Bradley strips out of his jeans. His head is turned strictly towards the staticky television, but his eyes peek quickly across at the lipstick mark on Bradley’s neck.

Again, Bradley doesn’t want to talk about it. He makes the most of his couple of hours of sleep and drags himself out of bed once again all too soon, packing his belongings for another day of travel. They make small talk as the two of them head down to the lobby.

Luke walks right ahead, greeting Robin’s tonsils with his tongue before he greets her verbally. Bradley strolls behind, dropping his bags to the floor and stretching his neck from side to side.

“So, what’s in Monteriggioni anyway, Brad?” Zoe asked, draped across the couch with her arms folded over her chest. She’s wearing a little pink tank top, looking at him over the top of a book she’s reading for him. This is the least hungover he has seen her in weeks.

“It’s a walled town — but we’re staying around forty minutes away from there.” He explains, dropping his sunglasses down onto the bridge of his nose.

“Where?” Abigail pipes up, sipping on a bottle of water.

“It’s someone’s house. He takes study assistants through the summer. Worked with him a couple of times.”

“You know so many cool people.” Zoe hums, turning her head and grimacing as she comes eye to eye with Luke’s hand groping at Robin’s ass over her levi’s cut offs. Bradley makes a soft sound of acknowledgement as he turns his head to see you giggling with Pasquale on the way into the lobby.

With his tongue finally out of Robin’s mouth, Luke cranes his neck to get a look at what it is Bradley’s smiling at. You. He turns his head to look at Robin, giving her a knowing look as he gestures for her to look over too.

“Alright, gimme your keys, let’s get out of here.” Bradley calls out to the group, walking around and taking the key from each person in the class. You take a seat on the edge of the couch that Zoe is laying across without greeting him as he heads up to the front desk to check out.

“Where do you go every night after dinner? — You just sit in your room or something?” Robin asks, leaning around her boyfriend. You lift your head and turn to look at her, immediately bristled by the smug little look on her face.

“Sometimes, other times I walk around a little.” You don’t owe her an answer and really, Pasquale wishes that you wouldn’t engage.

She makes a face, almost smirking, “All by yourself?”

“Oh, we have a message for this room. A young lady from New York called three times yesterday afternoon, we were trying to reach the occupant.” The receptionist realizes as she holds up your key. Bradley glances at the number, then back at you over your shoulder. He has to remind himself to call you your name.

You whip your head around at the sound of his voice across the lobby. You turn quickly back to Robin and she quirks an eyebrow at you.

Bradley frowns slightly at the furious look on your face as you storm across the lobby towards him and stand firm, “What?”

“You have a message — someone called you a couple of times yesterday. Call ‘em back so we can hit the road, I’m going to take everyone else outside to load up the van.” Bradley explains, glancing down at your outfit for the day. He likes those shorts on you.

“Oh, right. Okay.”

“You alright?” Bradley lowers his head slightly, trying to get a better look at your face.

“Fine.” You answer him, turning away as the receptionist hands you the phone, “Hello?”

“Where the hell have you been?”

“… Catherine?” You frown, plugging one ear and holding the phone closer to you. Your maid of honour gasps on the other end of the line, appalled that you now have to second guess the sound of her voice.

“Everyone has been looking for you! We didn’t know which hotel you were at, Malcolm said you hadn’t called in days!”

You frown, wrinkling your face at her. “Daddy’s credit card paid for the hotel.”

“Well, Mac didn’t ask your dad. I’ve been so worried. How are you doing over there?”

Even more so, your frown deepens. Malcolm adores your father. They get along just fine. There’s no reason why he wouldn’t usually ask your father — usually, he wouldn’t need to. They talk every day.

“Yeah, good. Just busy and stuff, we’re traveling a lot. We have to get on the road in a second. I guess calling just slipped my mind.” You spent last night in another man’s arms and your fiancé was worried sick about you. You glance towards the door, watching Bradley laughing through conversation with Luke and Abigail outside. He doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest.

“I’m glad you’re doing okay over there. I miss you. So, you and Mac are good, then, right?”

“Miss you too, but yeah, of course.” You mumble, propping your hand against your chin.

“Good. He mentioned you kind of cornered him about that fight at my end of semester party. I’m really glad you two figured that out. I thought for a second you two were going to break up over it when I first saw him on top of you like that.”

Bradley turns around and bends his neck to look at you across the lobby, his smile fades, brows furrowing slightly as he watches you press your finger harder into your ear and turn quickly away.

“Wait… Cath, what?”

…

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