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#we should be talking about this every single day
dreaming-medium · 2 days
Text
No Contact
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Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader
Word Count: 7.6k
Tags: ANGST with a happy ending, amnesia, memory loss, grief, pining, yearning, hurt/comfort
Summary: It was one of the worst car accidents the city has seen. You weren't supposed to be in that car, but you were. When you lose your memories from the incident, Chan is ordered to stay away for your recovery's sake; but it takes a larger toll on him than anyone could have imagined. Until one day, he just can't take it anymore.
A/N: inspired by this post. Angst ahoy <3 I had too much fun writing this. Maybe I like writing emotions. Enjoy <3
—————————————————————
No contact. That’s what Chan was told was best for you. That’s what was going to help your healing process. 
No contact whatsoever. No texts, no calls, no little surprise visits. No fucking contact. None. 
He was told it would just hurt you if he talked to you— that he would just make it worse. That you would only become more confused and upset. It would be absolutely detrimental for him to see you.
Hell, it might even make you worse. 
It’s killing Chan slowly. Every single day feels like torture for him. The days get exponentially worse. He feels like a hollow shell of his former self, like the wind goes through him when he steps foot outside. It feels like his shoulders are permanently sagged forward. 
But the worst part is that you don’t even know it. You don’t know how he’s collapsing inwards like a dying star. 
It was one of the worst car accidents the city has seen in years. A friend was driving you home that night; Chan had begged to be the one to pick you up, but no, you said it was fine, the friend was heading that way anyway. Why make the unnecessary trip?
You told him he needed sleep. Always putting his needs before your own. You always did. 
He should’ve put up more of a fuss. He should’ve put his foot down. He should’ve already been outside the house in his car with the passenger seat warmer on by the time you left that stupid party. 
He should’ve gotten out of the car and opened the door for you and had a cold bottle of water waiting in the cup holder. He should’ve kissed you on the cheek and asked you all about your time. He should have been there.
But he wasn’t. 
A drunk driver slammed into the passenger side of your friend’s car at a speed that you shouldn’t have even survived.
Miracles do happen, though. But what a price to pay for a miracle. 
For as long as he lives, Chan will never forget the sheer panic and terror he felt when the call came in from your mother. You were already at the hospital undergoing emergency surgery.
He was the last to know. 
After all, he wasn’t your emergency contact. He’s only your boyfriend.
Was. Was your boyfriend. Was? Is that the right word? He isn’t. But he is. There was no breakup. 
Is that what he’s going through right now? A breakup? 
You’re not on a break. But what is this? What is this loss? This severance is so horrible. 
It’s fucked up. It’s a fucked up, amnesia induced breakup. 
Memory loss is a funny thing. Doctors scratch their heads and shrug their shoulders without any answers. The brain is a tricky thing. 
Chan did what he was allowed to in that hospital. He sat in that stark white room under those harsh LED lights and he waited until you were awake. He even waited much longer after that because only two visitors were permitted inside your room at a time— and he wasn’t about to force his way in and kick one of your parents out. 
He let your sister go in first. He even let your cousin go in before him. But when it was finally his turn… 
He never got to see you. 
“The last five years?” Chan asked with a tight throat. Did he even have any more tears left to cry? How is there any liquid left in his body?
“She says doesn’t remember anything, Chan.” Your mother’s voice was just as hollow as his. “She was asking about her freshman roommate.”
A doctor stood in between him and your mom. “It’s best if we don’t throw everything at her at once. Amnesia victims rarely never get their memories back, but we’ve found that it needs to happen organically. Seeing her will overwhelm her and that could stunt the healing process.”
Chan’s mouth opened and closed several times but no words came out at all. His heart may have stopped. 
Does that mean…?
No…
“He can’t see her at all?” Your mother asked quietly. “Not even to visit? He doesn’t have to mention he’s her boyfriend, he can just say that he’s a friend, or a coworker, or—“
The doctor cut her off. “No contact. Not until we’re a bit through recovery and she’s starting to get her memories back.”
Chan was suddenly in a chair. 
When did he sit down? The Doctor’s hands were on his shoulders and he was looking down at him with a sympathetic stare.  
“It’s not forever, son.”
Chan was only able to nod. His mouth was so dry, the back of his neck felt clammy. His head was spinning.
Books often speak of moments as ‘Earth-shattering’. Of moments so catastrophic that the planet stops spinning on its axis and time stands still.
He gets it now. 
The doctor spoke a few more words to your mother before walking away. She looked down at Chan sadly. 
Your mother sat on the chair next to him and wrapped him up in a hug. His world was falling apart around him. You were slipping through his fingers. He couldn’t even see you.
Hot tears poured down his face while he sat there with his head in his hands. Why does it feel like he’s losing you? Why is this the only way? Why are these the cards that are being dealt?
Why didn’t he pick you up from that fucking party?
“She loves you, Chan… she’ll come to her senses, I promise, I promise.”
It’s been two months, one week, two days and eight hours since he’s talked to you. That long since he’s known peace. Since he’s known any sort of comfort. 
You’re the last thing he thinks about before he closes his eyes at night and the first thing he thinks about in the morning. No matter how many times he wakes up and feels the cold bed next to him, it never dulls the ache in his chest.
It’s not a healthy mindset, he knows. And it’s not that you were codependent on one another, that’s not it at all. You were just… ripped away from him. 
Food has no taste. The sky isn’t as blue as it used to be. Clouds don’t make fun shapes like they did with you by his side. The stars are still in the sky, he thinks, he hasn’t had the guts to look at them. 
God, you love the stars so much. You always talked about how pretty they are— how absolutely breath-taking you think the universe is. Chan would simply listen, he would always listen. All he ever wanted to do was listen.
How is he supposed to look at anything the same way? How is any day supposed to be normal when half of his life is suddenly missing. What’s the point of making music if you’re not there to listen to it?
5:00 PM is the hardest hour to get through. You don’t open the door to his apartment when you get off work. You don’t tell him about the things that happened during your shift. 
He can’t leave little snacks out on the counter for you to eat when you get home like he used to. 
Mice would get to it before you did. 
His lonely apartment is slowly losing your smell. He could spray your perfume, sure, you keep a bottle at his place, but it’s not the same. You somehow made the scent sweeter by letting it linger on your skin. 
All of your old toiletries are still there where you left them. Your spare toothbrush has been bone dry and untouched since 9:28 AM that morning. Your shampoo bottles are still half full and waiting for you on your shower shelf.
It had rained a few days before your accident. You had started a puzzle on his dining room table that day– you told him it was the perfect rainy day activity. It was a picture of different comic book covers. It’s now collecting dust. Unmoved and unsolved. 
Just like him.
It was a battle and a half to throw away your leftovers from two nights before your car accident. He felt like he was throwing away your normal life, your tiny domestic traces. 
He didn’t want to cleanse you from his life, but you were washing away. Your ghost was eroding with time. 
Your spare car keys are still hanging on the key ring. Your rain coat is on the third hook draped right over your work bag. Even your phone charger is still plugged into the wall on your side of the bed.
Did you know you forgot to put your favorite gold earrings on that night? You left them on the nightstand. They’re still there, don’t worry. Right next to the glass of water you drank half of. 
Do you even remember them…? He got them for you for your first Christmas together. 
There are so many signs of a life interrupted integrated so deeply into his. 
You’re a clock whose hands stopped suddenly at 1:24 AM. 
This sort of haunting is unbearable. You’re not a phantom in his life, though. You’re something so unattainable that he had once but it was taken away with empty promises of return. 
It’s like you’re a shiny diamond hidden away beneath lasers and traps like in those stupid, cheesy spy movies you love so much. 
Do you know what he would give to watch one of those with you in his arms right now? 
Chan feels like he’s banging on the glass of a one sided window, screaming for you to remember him. Meanwhile you’re on the other side only staring into a mirror, trying to pick up the pieces from before. 
Your mom sends him updates on your condition all the time. He knows that you started working at the local library about three weeks ago. 
You had worked there in college before graduating and getting your last job. It was one of your favorite jobs you ever had. That library was so special to you. 
To him too. 
It’s the library where he first met you. 
The same library Chan finds himself in front of now. 
He shouldn’t go in. He can’t go in. He absolutely should not go inside. 
Bang Chan you should not and cannot go inside this library. Under no circumstances should you step foot inside this building where your other half is working. 
Absolutely not. 
The door emits a soft ding when he opens it. Electronic. Quiet. Peaceful. 
There’s a certain type of silence that sits in a library. It’s closer, thicker— warmer. It’s an expected silence. They’re supposed to be quiet. 
Chan can hear his sneakers take every step on the carpeted floor. There’s no one sitting behind the front desk; that’s where you usually were. 
His eyes look all around, but there’s no sign of you anywhere. A few people toddle around the shelves. 
There’s more soft beeping coming from the self checkout. That’s new. They didn’t have that when you worked here years ago. You probably hate it. 
On the day he met you, you were wearing a pair of dark green pants and a black long sleeve shirt. Your hair was clipped behind your head and pieces were falling over your face. 
Chan was only in the library to look for the bathroom. He was on his way to lunch with a friend, but he just had to stop somewhere. The library was the closest option. 
When he had heard the sound of books falling, he investigated and found you in the center of the carnage, the glasses on your nose sat crookedly and you rubbed your head. 
Your eyes met. He was a goner. 
How disgustingly poetic that he finds himself here now. Where he really shouldn’t be. He was quite literally prescribed a restraining order against you. 
Chan meanders around with his hands in his pockets, the silence getting louder and louder the further he gets inside.
Maybe you’re not working today? 
No one is anywhere to be seen. He’s checking down all the aisles but he doesn’t see you anywhere. 
Maybe it’s for the best that you’re not here. He’s not supposed to see you anyway. He’s breaking the doctor’s rules by doing this anyway. 
He needs to leave. He needs to get out of here. 
His feet stop in front of the very aisle where he saw you for the first time. 
Empty. 
You-less. 
If he thinks hard enough, Chan can picture you in front of him, laughing quietly with the most adorable, embarrassed blush on your cheeks. 
What a moment. 
Is it possible to spend eternity in that moment? Obviously internal clocks can be rewound, paused, flipped every which way; can he go back to that day? Can he go back to the day where every single poem suddenly made sense?
He would take any day, really, any day that had you in it. Birthdays, holidays, late night dates, Hell, he’d even take a day where he only saw you when you dropped off a drink for him in his studio. 
Anything, he would take anything just to see your smile bloom on your face while he watches.
“Can I help you find something?”
His breath catches in his throat, it feels like he’s physically punched in the chest. That voice. That beautiful, melodic voice. He hasn’t heard it in person in months, only in videos he had on his phone. 
Slowly, Chan turns to face the source of his favorite pitch. 
His throat immediately tightens. 
There you are. You. Beautiful you. 
Standing right there. Looking at him like a complete fucking stranger. 
“I…” his voice is hoarse. Chan can feel the tears in his eyes begin to form. He didn’t think this through, did he?
You’re staring at him expectantly, waiting for him to say anything. You’re waiting, come on, Chan. Speak up. Say something. 
Looking up at the shelf, you look back down at him with a smile. “A history guy, hm?”
No.
“Yeah.”
You giggle. “I always had a thing for History.”
He knows. 
“Really?”
“Mhmm.” You respond with a grin. 
Specifically Ancient Rome. He knows. 
You continue. “Specifically Ancient Rome.”
Chan nods and clears his throat. His palms feel so sweaty. His chest is almost panting. Every single cell in his body just wants to lunge forward and wrap you in a hug. 
He wants to bury his face in your neck and sob while you hold him. He wants to tell you that he missed you so much. He wants to tell you how your pillow is losing the scent of your shampoo. He wants to tell you that he’s been DVR-ing your favorite show so that you can watch it later. He wants to tell you about his day. He wants to kiss you until you’re breathless. He wants you to hear the new song he’s been working on.
But—
“If you need anything, let me know.”
You start to walk away.
Chan feels his heart physically break. It’s happening again. He’s on the other side of that one way mirror. It’s happening again! No, no please. 
His eyes widen, the words get caught in his throat. Fuck, Y/N, please!
“W-Wait!” he says quickly. 
You turn around with a curious look. 
“The Odyssey,” he blurts. “Where uh… where can I find it?”
Your eyes light up. “Oh, I love The Odyssey.”
He knows. You collect different translations of it. 
“I collect different translations of that book, here I’ll show you where it is.”
With a little hop in your step you lead him towards all the classics. 
He watches you like you’re an oasis in the desert— maybe it’s because you are. You’re what he’s been crawling towards for two months. 
You lead him all the way to the shelf where the Odyssey lives. Your nimble fingers reach forward and grab one of the copies. 
Green nail polish. You still paint your nails green. You picked that habit up a year after he met you. 
The memories have to be there, Y/N, they have to be. Chan bought you that first bottle of green nail polish as a joke on Saint Patrick’s Day. 
Y/N, please. 
“This translation is my favorite,” you whisper and hand him the book. 
Chan smiles sadly and takes the book from you, unable to meet your eyes. He knows if he gazes into those gorgeous eyes that he’ll lose it. He’ll fall to his knees and cry. 
“Thank you,” he whispers back. 
You stand there for a moment, he can feel your eyes on his face. He always has been able to tell when you were looking at him, it’s a little, secret superpower. 
From foot to foot, your weight shifts. 
You only do that when you’re confused. Why are you confused? Y/N, are you confused?
“I’m sorry…” you start, sounding so unsure. “You remind me of someone…”
It feels like a defibrillator was hooked up to his chest. Chan’s eyes widen and he finally looks up at you. 
You’re looking at him so carefully. He can see the gears turning in your head. Your tongue pokes out of your lips and wets them. 
Y/N, please. 
“I just… I can’t figure out who. Do I… do I know you? I was—” You stop yourself. 
Fuck. Fuck! What was he supposed to say? Fuck! 
Chan wants to scream. He wants to grab you by the shoulders and cry that he’s your soulmate, that he’s the person that knows you better than anyone else in this world. 
Yes, you do, you do know him. And he knows you. He knows how you take your coffee, what movies make you cry, what color jell-o is your favorite. 
He knows that you never wear matching socks and you always lift your feet when driving over railroad tracks. 
He knows that when you were 6 you ran into the corner of a cabinet and that’s how you got that scar next to your eyebrow. 
Chan knows that your entire life you wanted to be an author but you’re so scared of failure that you decided not to chase after it. 
He knows everything. 
“I just have one of those faces, I guess.” It comes out of his mouth so strained. 
You stare back at him so carefully. Do you see right through him?
“Maybe,” you say slowly. You don’t believe him. He knows that tone. You absolutely do not believe a word he’s saying. “Are you sure?”
Chan swallows, he grips the book in his hand tighter. The lump in his throat almost doesn’t go down, more tears prick at his eyes. 
“I would never forget a face like yours,” he chokes out. 
Your eyes widen and you blush, looking to the side with a smile. You always were a sucker for cheesy compliments. 
After thinking for a second, you reach into your pocket and take out a little slip of paper. 
“Here,” you say after scribbling something down. Holding it out, Chan sees it’s your phone number. He has it memorized. “If you ever need more books to read… or find… call me.”
Chan takes the paper with a racing heart. He gives you a smile, his dimples showing. “I think I will,” he whispers to you. 
Another few moments pass of you just staring at him before you nod and giggle nervously. “Well, I gotta get back to work, so..”
Chan nods and moves to the side. You walk past him. 
Your perfume curls around him like a blanket and he craves that sweet serenity he finds when he holds you close and breathes you in. 
Three steps after you pass him, you turn around. “Oh, I didn’t catch your name.”.
“Chan,” he answers softly. 
“Chan,” you repeat. It goes right through him. 
Your voice. Your sweet, beautiful, melodic voice. Finally, he heard you say his name again.
“I’m Y/N,” you whisper to him with a friendly smile. 
“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” Chan has to physically force the word ‘meet’ out of his mouth. 
“You too, Chan.”
And with that, you were gone, retreating back into your fortress of papyrus. 
—————————————————————
A bad idea was going into the library that day. 
An even worse idea was texting you the day after to ask how your day is going. 
And then an absolutely fucking idiotic move was asking if you wanted to go to dinner with him. 
And the worst part? You said yes. 
So, now here Chan was, standing in front of the mirror in his bedroom getting ready for what you thought was a first date, but to him was just a dinner date. 
How is he supposed to do this? He’s not, that’s how. 
Chan fiddles with his bracelet right before his phone rings. 
His heart drops when he sees the caller ID, your mother. 
“Ah, fuck…” he whispers before grabbing his phone. Of course you were going to tell your mom, you tell your mom everything. 
“Hello?” he asks warily into the phone. 
“Hi, Chan,” she says slowly, she sounds nervous, why does she sound nervous. 
“How are you? Is everything okay?”
“It’s Y/N…” Her voice lowers. Chan’s heart drops. “Before you panic, she’s okay! It’s um.. she’s getting ready right now… for a date…”
Chan isn’t moving. Yes, he knows you are. He knows it. But words won’t form in his mouth. 
“Channie.. I’m starting to wonder if that doctor isn’t right.. I can’t stand the thought of her finding someone else when you’re waiting for her… I tried to talk her out of it but she just seems so floaty and happy. God, I feel sick to my stomach.”
His jaw clenches. Now or never. 
“It’s with me,” he blurts. 
Your mom goes silent. Then a huge sigh comes out of her mouth. 
“I wish I could say I’m angry,” a little laugh follows it. “I think I’m only angry that you didn’t say something.”
He tells her everything, down to the way he pretended not to know you. 
“Well, you’re going to have to tell her eventually.” Your mom sounds unsure, herself. 
“Or maybe she’ll remember me.”
“What if she doesn’t?”
Chan sits down on the edge of his bed. His eyes are staring at the wall, unfocused. 
She’s right. What if you don’t? 
“Then, I’ll just … do it all again.”
Silence greets him on the other side of the line. Another tiny laugh comes from your mom. “I always knew you two were perfect together. Just like two magnets, you always come towards one another.”
—————————————————————
“I’ve never eaten here before,” you say with a chipper smile on your face from across the table. 
Yes, you have. 
“Really?” Chan asks, taking a sip of his water. 
“I pass it all the time and always wondered how the food was.”
He looks back down at the old menu. 
This restaurant was more than special to him. It’s where he took you on your first date. It’s an old fashioned burger joint with the greasiest, most delicious French fries in town. 
The first time you guys came here, you talked and talked until the place closed. And even after that, you drove around and talked until it was late. 
“I’ve been here a few times, it’s really good. The milkshakes are some of the best I’ve ever had.” Chan’s sweaty hands fiddle with the menu. 
He’s more nervous now than on the first date. 
“What’s the best one?” you ask with a smile. 
A small laugh comes out of his nose. “The peanut butter one.”
It was your favorite. 
“Yeah but then you can’t have any,” you say so nonchalantly, looking down at the menu. 
His eyebrows knit together. “What?”
“‘Cause of your allergy.”
He stops. 
You stop. 
He has a peanut allergy. Chan has a peanut allergy. 
His lips purse like he’s going to say something but you beat him to the punch. 
“I’m sorry,” you blurt out. “I… I don’t know why I thought that.” Your hands grip the menu a little tighter. “Maybe I’m thinking of someone else?”
Chan shakes his head. “No, no, it’s okay. I… I do have a peanut allergy. Maybe I said something before?”
You stare at him for a long second before looking back down at the menu once more. “Yeah… um. Maybe.”
He definitely did not say something. 
Dinner continues on. Chan listens to you talk and pretends he’s never heard your stories before and he tells you ones he knows he’s said before. 
The entire time, you were beaming at him, just like you used to before the accident. Your face never loses its constant happy glow. He’s not sure that the muscles in your face know how to frown.  
You’re the last two people in the restaurant. The staff doesn’t seem to mind. Maybe they recognize you both. Maybe. 
A lull dips into your conversation. Both of you know you should leave. Neither wants to. Especially the broken man sitting across from you. 
Chan takes the last sip of his drink. The bill has been paid for about an hour at this point. You’re looking down at your lap with a pink flush on your cheeks. 
You bite your lip and look up at Chan carefully. 
“Are you… are you sure I don’t know you, Chan?”
He stares at you. Did you know that you always bite your lip like that when you’re confused? 
“I just… I really feel like I know you. There’s just…” you pause, trying to find your words. He knows you want to tell him about the accident. He knows you want to say it but you don’t want to weird him out. 
What the fuck is he supposed to do? What is he supposed to tell you? 
“Something happened to me a little while ago, my brain’s been… fuzzy since then,” you explain shyly. “I know you said you don’t know me but I just… I can’t help feel like that’s not true.”
Chan’s jaw clenches, his knee bounces anxiously underneath the table. His head turns to the side in his typical nervous tick. 
Your mother’s words echo in his mind, his tongue suddenly feels like it’s swelling to the size of his mouth— making him unable to speak. Should he tell you? Is it now or never?
“I don’t mean to make it weird, Chan.”
He licks his lips and opens his mouth. 
Your phone rings. 
A sigh of relief comes from deep within Chan’s chest. 
Reluctantly, you pick up the phone and hold it to your ear. “Hello? …. No, I didn’t know…. Yeah, of course…. Sure… Yeah, see you tomorrow.”
Just as quickly as you answered the phone, you hang up. 
“Sorry,” you mumble. “Someone called out of work for tomorrow, they need me to come in.”
“Do you need to get going?” Chan asks, looking down at the time. It’s well past 10 o’clock. 
A sad smile crosses your face. “I mean… probably.” The time on your watch flashes back at you. He can tell you don’t want to go home yet. 
“Come on, Y/N, I’ll walk you home.”
Chan’s already standing up from the table, picking his jacket up off the back of his chair. You watch his movements and slowly get up, your movements screaming reluctance. 
—————————————————————
It’s three dates later when the two of you are walking down the street towards your house. It’s only a few blocks from here, but you both decide to take a tiny detour through the local park. 
“I have to say I’m a little excited to meet your friends,” you giggle. “I hope that’s not weird.”
You already have. 
“It’s not weird at all. I’m sure they’d like you.” Chan nudges your arm with his elbow, his hands staying in his pocket. 
“Changbin sounds like a blast.”
He was your favorite before.
“The two of you…” Chan thinks over his words carefully. “The two of you would definitely cause some mischief.”
And you have. 
A tiny lull of comfortable silence falls over the conversation. 
Both of you meander towards the swings. A cold wind blows through the air but neither of you react to it. 
With a tiny giggle, you sit down on one of the swings and hold onto the chains on the side. 
You are just so… you. You’re just your authentic self. Amnesia or not, you haven’t changed a bit. It’s so charming.
“I can’t remember the last time I went on the swings.” You start to move your body back and forth, not too much but enough to get the tiny thrill the toy brings. 
Chan walks up and stands next to you, his hand coming out and grabbing at the chain of the swing next to yours. 
The brightest smile stretches over your face. 
God, it really doesn’t take a lot to make you smile, does it? He guesses that means it doesn’t take a lot for him either since he smiles when you do.
He can’t help it.
He watches you move back and forth, the cold breeze kicking up a bit more and blowing dead leaves across the sidewalk. 
“What’s wrong, Chan? Allergic to swings?” you tease. 
He rolls his eyes with a smirk. “No, I just far more enjoy watching you have fun.”
Your cheeks flush. If he didn’t know you, maybe he would’ve chocked it up to the cold. But he knows the difference between your blush and the elements now. 
“You’re a smooth talker, Bang Chan.”
“It comes easy with you, Y/N L/N.”
Another laugh from you. 
“Shameless flirt.”
He puts his hand on his chest in mock hurt. “Ouch! I just speak the truth, that’s all. Not my fault I like seeing you blush.”
Every word that comes out of his mouth feels so natural. If he really thinks about it, he’s in a weirdly unique situation. Not many couples get to start over, to feel those butterflies again. But here he is, his palms starting to get sweaty as he imagines kissing you. 
Would you call it a first kiss? Maybe. 
It has been four dates. It wouldn’t be.. inappropriate to kiss you, would it? The two of you kissed on your third date a few years ago. 
He wants to kiss you so bad. 
Should he? Shouldn’t he? God, why is this so hard?
Chan reaches out and grabs the chain of your swing, pulling it to a very gentle stop. 
“Uh oh, fun police,” you tease and look up at him with a grin. 
Looking down at you, Chan allows his eyes to look over every detail of your face that he already had memorized. You haven’t changed at all except the new scar on the side of your forehead from the accident. 
It’s the same eyes, same nose, same chin that he fell in love with so long ago. 
The same asymmetrical eyes that you’re so self conscious of but he loves. Your hair is wind blown and splayed every which way. It adds a childish charm to your features. 
Very carefully, Chan moves his free hand down to cup your cheek. His warm palm soothes your ice cold face. He hears your breath catch in your throat at his touch. 
His thumb swipes over your cheek, fingertips run down the soft lines of your jawline. Eventually his thumb ends up under your chin which he tilts up. 
Your eyes sparkle. They somehow capture the light of the lamps around the playground. But they’ve always done that. 
You’re always so enchanting.
Is this a good idea? 
Is kissing you the best option? 
But does he even have the strength to stop himself now?
Almost three months without feeling your lips on his has been torture, and here he is, with you in his hands and there’s still this nagging feeling that he should stop. 
One look into your eyes quells that anxiety. 
Your eyes keep flickering down to his own lips, the shaky breath you let out is hot against his fingers. Everything feels warmer compared to the air outside. 
He can’t take it anymore. 
Chan leans down and presses his lips to yours. They’re warm and slightly chapped.
But, my god, he’s never felt anything this heavenly before. It’s like his entire body unwinds. Like a fire was lit inside his stomach. 
He moves his hand to the back of your head and keeps your lips pressed against his. Your head tilts to the side slightly. It’s just like he remembers. 
It’s just the first kiss, he can’t let himself get carried away. He can’t. 
He can’t let his fingers wind through your hair. He can’t melt into your touch on his cheek. He can’t let himself drown in your lips. 
But he is. 
He’s letting you consume his very soul in one kiss. 
How can something feel so healing yet hurt so badly at the same time? It’s like you’re ripping open a wound and bandaging it at the same time. 
No matter how hard he tries, he can’t bring his lips away from yours. Your hand slides down to caress his jawline with those soft, manicured fingers. 
Your lips open and close over his like mirror images. The feeling shoots straight down into Chan’s gut. It’s like the first time for him all over again. 
Those butterflies are going insane in his stomach. Your scent kicks up in the wind and he can’t help but take a large breath through his nose. 
God, he can’t stop himself. It feels too good. 
His hand moves from the back of your hair to cup your cheek and bring you closer. 
He immediately stops. 
Why is your face wet?
Chan pulls away from the kiss and looks down at you with concern written all over his expression. 
You’re crying. Why … why are you crying?
Your eyes open and you look at him confused. 
“Chan?” you whisper. You’re confused too. What?
“Why are you crying, Y/N?” he asks with a thick voice.
Your eyes widen and your own hand comes up to swipe at your cheeks. Sure enough, you’re met with tears. 
“I… I don’t know,” you say so quietly. “I-I’m not sure.”
Chan starts backing away, your eyes snap to focus on his. Your hand shoots up to grab at his to keep him there. You’re still so confused. 
Emotions are flying through your eyes. It almost looks like someone is clicking a light switch on and off in the back of your mind. A lightbulb is flickering in your soul like a dying neon sign in an old shop window. 
Every muscle in your face is twitching.
What’s happening?
“Channie—“ your own voice cuts off by a sob. 
Chan’s heart jumpstarts. You haven’t called him that… not in two months… that’s what you and your mother called him before the accident. 
Are you…? Are you remembering? What’s happening?
Please. 
Slowly, your hand falls from his. 
Chan stays there, unmoving like a statue. What’s happening inside your mind right now? It looks like you’re reaching and reaching for something that you can’t quite put your finger on. 
He's watching you struggle. It’s like when you can’t remember a word. It’s right there. It’s on the tip of your tongue.
You gulp, your eyes leave his and you look down at your lap. The dirt crunches under your feet as you shuffle your shoes around.
Chan swipes his thumb over your cheek, brushing away the tears. He’s biting back his own. 
“It’s okay—“ “I’m sorry—“ are both said at the exact same time. 
He knew it was coming. He knows you. But you don’t know him. Not anymore. 
But you do.
“It wasn’t the kiss. I—“ 
“It’s okay, Y/N.”
You know him. 
“Chan, I really loved the kiss.”
Chan. Not Channie. 
He brushes his thumb over your lips. “It’s okay,” he repeats gently. “You don’t have to explain.”
His other hand comes up and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Your eyes slide shut at the sensation. 
Your bottom lip quivers and you pull it into your mouth and bite it. With a tight swallow, your throat bobs. 
“It happens sometimes,” you whisper. “It’s from the accident I had.”
Chan continues to soothingly rub your skin with his thumb. Slowly, he kneels down to be in front of you rather than leaning over. 
The dirt is cold on his knee. It seeps through the fabric of his pants. He couldn’t care less. 
“You don’t have to talk about it,” he whispers back to you. 
You shake your head gently, your hands folding in your lap. “No, no. I… I want to tell you. I need to tell you. It’s been happening more and more whenever I’m around you. It’s like every touch, every word you say bounces around my brain and makes me feel the worst case of deja vu.
“Every time I’m with you I feel like I’m trying to recall a dream I had last night but I just can’t remember what it was.”
You’re rambling. You only ramble when you’re overwhelmed and scared. 
“Chan, every time I’m with you it feels like some part of me is screaming to be let out.”
Your eyes open and you stare right through him. Chan feels his heart squeeze and almost stop completely. Despite your best efforts, the tears keep coming. 
“I was in a car accident a few months ago. I had such a severe concussion that I lost the last five years of my memory.” 
How is your voice so even?
Chan’s jaw clenches. Fuck fuck fuck. 
He knows. Yes, Y/N. He knows. Fuck, does he know! If anyone fucking knows, it’s him. 
“I—“ he starts but you cut him off. 
“Please,” you choke out and take a deep breath. “And since then I’ve been getting bits and pieces of my memory back. Sometimes they’re in large chunks, other times they just … come back.
“When I try to think about my life before the accident. There’s this… person there. Someone important. Someone so, so important that it physically hurts me to think about how I don’t know who it is. They’re a constant. And I love that they’re a constant.”
Your hand comes up to clutch at your jacket right over your chest. 
More tears come out of your eyes. The whites get more pink the more they flow. 
“But I know them. I do! I know them like I know the back of my hand. I-I know they love music. I know they take milk and sugar in their morning coffee. I know they don’t get enough sleep at night.”
Louder and louder your voice gets as you grow sadder and sadder. The sobs between thoughts wrack your chest. 
Him. You’re talking about him. 
Chan’s hands hold your face gently. His thumbs can’t keep up with how much you’re crying. 
Nothing has ever hurt this bad. 
You know him. You just don’t know it’s him. 
Nevertheless, you continue. “I remember that they have the most obnoxious phone alarm in the morning. I remember the passcode to their phone is 032518. I know that they have this one black sweatshirt that I love to steal even though it’s their favorite.”
Chan’s own eyes begin watering, he can’t stop it. You know him. You know him. You’ve remembered him this whole time and you didn’t even know it. 
You reach up and grab one of his hands and place it on your heart. Underneath your jacket, he can feel your heartbeat thudding violently against your chest. 
That same heartbeat he’s been dying to listen to while you play with his hair and tell him about your day. The heartbeat he would give anything to hear as he falls asleep. His throat gets tighter and tighter. 
“I’ve been surrounded by bits and pieces of a ghost and no one wants to help me. No one will tell me anything, and I’m so confused, Chan. I can tell that there’s something that everyone is avoiding telling me.”
A gust of wind picks up through the playground. It nips at his cheeks. It’s now he realizes how many tears are falling. 
A sob tears from his throat. 
You grip his hand tighter. 
“Tell me It’s you, Chan.” You’re begging. You’re actually begging while keeping his hand pressed against your heartbeat. 
“Tell me that you’re the person that I see in my dreams. Tell me you’re the one that loves when I draw hearts on the bathroom mirror after I shower. Please tell me that you’re the one that loves the smell of lemon cookies but can’t stand the taste.”
Oh, god, Y/N.
“Tell me that you’re the one that wanted to pick me up from the party that night but I said no.”
He breaks. 
He breaks right down in front of you. Every single ounce of self control leaves his body and he grabs you out of the swing, yanking you towards his body and holding you against his chest.The emotions that were being kept at bay came out like a raging storm. 
He falls backwards into the dirt, you come crashing into him. Your arms wrap around him at the same time he wraps around you. 
Chan buries his face in your neck, one hand on the back of your head and the other firmly around your waist. 
Wails leave his mouth as he holds you to him. They’re deep and come from the very depths of his soul. The wound that’s been open for months is bleeding.  
Every lonely night. Every dinner where he cooked for two instead of one by accident. Every long day he came back to an empty apartment. It’s all coming out. 
You’re crying just as hard as he is, both of your hands gripping the back of his hoodie like a lifeline. 
Your body in his arms is like a piece of a puzzle. Like he’s the dusty one sitting on his dining room table and you finally came in and finished it. 
Weeks and weeks of grief come crashing down on him. He can’t lie anymore. Not to you. Never to you. 
“It is me,” he cries into your neck, his hand running over the back of your head, feeling your hair slip through his fingers. It’s just like he remembers. “It’s all me, Y/N, It’s me.”
Your cries get louder, your body starts shaking in his arms. 
“I’ve missed you, Y/N,” he cries harder. “Fuck, I’ve missed you so much. I missed my girl. Oh my god, I’ve missed you.”
Chan can’t pull you close enough, he can’t get you close enough to his body. You shift around and press yourself into him. 
“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry I didn’t pick you up that night. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. I’m so sorry you got hurt.” 
Every ounce of grief is surfacing and clawing its way out of his throat. 
“I’m sorry I had to lie to you these last two weeks. I’m so sorry, Y/N. I was so broken without you. I broke the doctor’s orders. I needed to see you, Y/N.”
Despite how hard he has you gripped against him, you manage to pull away slightly. You sit up in his lap and look down at his red, tear soaked face. His eyes are puffy and his chest is sputtering with sobs. 
Both of your hands cup his cheeks and swipe away the tears the same way he did for you only a small bit ago. There’s a sad smile on your face. 
“Please don’t apologize, Channie, it’s okay. I forgive you.”
Channie. You called him Channie.
He cries harder and buries his face into your chest. Your arms immediately come around him and keep him there, fingers threading into his hair. 
You’re still crying. Both of you are. 
“I know you were just doing what you were told to,” you whisper into his hair. He can hear your voice reverberate in your chest. 
All he can do is cry. 
Months of build up led to this moment. Endless days of going through the motions just for the next to be as dull and tedious led to him falling into you in the middle of a playground at night. 
The only thing you do after that is hold him. You press kisses to the top of his head and whisper that you forgive him over and over. 
Each one adds a stitch to the wound, shutting it.
You’re finally in his arms. You’re finally back where you belong. 
“I missed you,” he says again, his cries dying down. He doesn't know what else to say. There's so much he wants to tell you, but everything dies on the tip of his tongue.
“I missed you too, Channie. My heart missed you so much.”
He sniffles and looks up at you. You pull your sweatshirt sleeve up and wipe away his stray tears gently. 
“Every day it just felt like something was missing. It was you. You were missing.”
Chan can’t find any words to say. He just stares at you. 
"I don't care how long it takes to remember, or even if I never do. I need you by my side for it, Chan."
His eyes sparkle at you for a moment but he leans up and captures your lips with his once more. It feels even better than the previous one.
The two of you relish in the contact, holding each other close and clinging to the closeness of it all.
It's taking everything within Chan not to start crying again. He's worried than any moment now, he'll wake up and this will all be some cruel dream.
But when you pull away from his lips, and he opens his eyes-- you're still there. You're still in his arms and smiling at him like you always did.
The burn is soothed.
“If you think about it,” you start with a tiny smile. “We’re lucky— in a way.”
His entire face screws up, even more confused. “Lucky?”
“How many people get to say they fell in love with the same person twice?”
Chan blinks twice before it feels like his entire body thaws. 
You and your glass half full attitude. He’ll never fucking get enough of it. 
His arms wrap around you again, bringing you down into his chest. You let out a breathy giggle 
“You’re never leaving my sight,” he breathes out. “Never again, baby, never.”
“I don’t ever want to, Channie. I never will.”
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va1entinesg4l · 1 day
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full of surprises pt.2
☆ pt. 1
pairing: charles leclerc x reader x max verstappen
summary: now that the world knows who the fathers are, what would the public think?
warnings: none except poor translations of french!
“Max! Charles! Is it true that you both are the fathers of y/n’s child?”
“Are you three a throuple?”
“Is Lestappen real then?”
Questions were being asked every single day and both Max and Charles were desperate to answer them. But despite their management being strict with their reputation, they were forced to stay silent.
“Max will be the father of y/n’s child. In public, of course.” that’s what both managers of the boys agreed on. They decided to clear things up with Max being your partner and the father of your child. So in every or any public events which the drivers will be attending, the arm around your waist, is Max’s.
Charles’s heart sank when they told him that. How could he just watch both the love of his life act all happy and in love from afar. He wasn’t just hurt, but betrayed.
The child is Charles’s as much as it’s Max’s. Why should he be kept away from them?
“This isn’t going to work. I’m not doing this.” Charles says sternly, giving you and Max a serious look as he paces around the hotel bedroom. Max crosses his arms with a heavy heart as he watches Charles, he knew what Charles was feeling but who was he to deny that this whole media bullshit was wrong?
You take Charles’s hand as you reassure him, “We just have to deal with this for a few months, mon amour..” Charles shoots you a glare at that and argues, “A few months? I can’t even deal with this for a minute.”
He yanks his hand away from yours as he mutters a ‘fuck’. Then a knock came on the door, Charles’s manager speaking.
“Car is ready, be down in five.”
There was a charity event held by Ferrari and every driver was going. With you being ‘just’ Max’s partner for the cameras, you knew shit might happen tonight.
Max takes your hand as he gives Charles one last glance before heading to the car downstairs with you, Charles following 5 minutes behind as he gets into another car.
You and Max, and Charles both arrive at a different time to avoid any attractions but once you get out of the car, cameras start flashing and questions about your relationship with the boys were once thrown again.
The security leads you both inside the building away from the cameras. The event crowded with people, the Williams drivers chatting along with the Mercedes drivers. Ferrari’s team principal, Fred, talking with Toto.
Max keeps his arm around you as you both try to look for Charles and there he was, alone as he smiles at the people who were greeting him. The smile which was fake and only filled with sadness.
Your heart ached just by watching him being alone, Max couldn’t look at him, it felt like it was his fault, it should’ve been him in Charles’s position.
Charles finally spots you and Max and he looks away, forcing a smile as he engages in conversation with the others to distract himself.
Charles sat at a different table, his expression blank as he holds a new glass of champagne after each empty ones. Speeches went on for hours and Charles just wanted to leave, he couldn’t help but steal glances at you and Max, seeing how close you both are, every touch he gives you, every kiss. In his mind, it felt real. it felt like he wasn’t always the one you and Max loved most.
It was finally Charles’s turn to give a speech after Carlos’s and from the way some of the buttons of his dress shirt was undone, he was drunk.
“Hi.. everyone.” Charles slurs slightly, clearing his throat before continuing. You stare at him from your seat and you felt as if Charles might say something he might just regret.
“I wanted to thank everyone who joined this event tonight. As you all know, Ferrari has been my dream since i was a child and i would’ve never made it this far if it weren’t for my father and Jules.” He stops his sentence, his breath ragged which could be heard through the speakers.
His eyes then land on you and Max, his jaw clenched slightly before speaking again.
“But tonight I wanted to tell everyone something. Three years ago I would’ve given up this career if i hadn’t met y/n, she made something inside of me spark again and it was like a gift from god.”
“Since then i’ve fallen in love with her, but also with someone i’ve never thought of loving.” He shifts his gaze to Max and he swore he saw Max’s eyes soften.
“Max is a wonderful person. Anyone who’s ever seen him as a bad guy for being a winner on track will never understand. J’aime y/n et Max. I love y/n and Max. So yes, the three of us are in love and happy together. The child y/n is carrying is mine as much as it’s Max’s. Which yes, both Max and i are the fathers of y/n’s child.”
A few gasps and murmurs came from the crowd but you could see the other drivers of the grid putting proud smiles on their faces, your heart bursting with happiness at Charles’s confession. Charles gives a drunken smile at the crowd before slurring his words again.
“Et si quelqu'un a un problème avec ça, vous pouvez gentiment vous faire foutre.” And if anyone has a problem with that, you can kindly fuck off.
He stumbles off the stage and Carlos immediately helps him. You run over to him as Max helps him up as well, taking him to the restroom to freshen up.
He was slowly sobering up after Max had forced him to drink four glasses of water and he sits down on the floor, his back slumping against the wall as he chuckles to himself, saying.
“I couldn’t give two fucks about what the media would say but at least now they know the truth.” You and Max look at him but before you both could even say a word, he plays with the ring that was recently worn on his finger.
“Alors maintenant, pouvons-nous en finir avec ça et planifier notre mariage?” So now can we get this over with and plan our wedding?
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
im sorry it took WEEKS for me to finish this but my exams are over, thank god. 😭 this really wasn’t the ending i wanted to write since i was suppose to write a part 3 but i couldn’t keep you guys waiting anymore so i wrote the ending and everything in this part. i love you guys for reading & thanks for being patient!!
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ssokkasmoon · 2 days
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Hello !!! I have read your work and I find it amazing , so , if you don't have any problem , do you think we could see something of old Zuko and his reader wife ?I mean , them being a cute old couple in the eyes of the new avatar team . And maybe a bit of angst where the reader gets sick or injured and old Zuko is genuinely worried about losing his wife , partner and lifelong friend . The reader understands her husband's mixed feelings at the thought of her loss , but she assures her that if that is the case , she will look for him in each and every one of their next lives . In the end, it's just Zuko being weak and sweet to his wife.
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ZUKO AND READERS RELATIONSHIP WHEN THEY ARE OLDER
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As Zuko grew older and assumed the role of Fire Lord, his relationship with you evolved and deepened. you now had kids and grandkids and despite your ups and downs, you found a way to build a strong bond based on mutual understanding and support .
Zuko and you had new habits and traditions that were uniquely yours. you had a daily ritual of sharing breakfast together, sipping tea while discussing your plans for the day, spending time with your grandchildren, reading stories to them, telling them about your past adventures .
You two also liked taking slow walks through the palace gardens, holding hands and talking about your past adventures like how you met, often exchanged playful banter and inside jokes that only you understood. You enjoyed spending quality time together.
It became a tradition for you to host regular gatherings,where you two invited your old friends (old team). Katara who was now little lonely since Aangs passing, and Toph who was even more witty than before.
Despite your age, Zuko and you never lost your spirit of adventure. You went on occasional journeys together, exploring new lands and experiencing new cultures.
The younger Avatar Team, including Korra and her friends, looked up to Zuko and you as respected and revered figures. They viewed you as living legends who played big roles in the past events that shaped the world they live in now. Bolin was especially fond of you, since he almost fainted from happiness after seeing you two.
Besides seeing you as legends they admired the way Zuko's eyes still sparkled with love and adoration whenever he looked at you, and the way your face lit up with a gentle smile in response. They find it cute how you two still acted like youthful couple.
They saw a love that had stood the test of time, and they longed for relationships as enduring and beautiful as yours.
 Team found inspiration in your unwavering support for one another. They witnessed the little gestures of affection, like Zuko placing a gentle kiss on your forehead or you playfully teasing Zuko, and it reminded them of the deep connection and both love and friendship they should look for in their own relationships.
~
The time when you fell seriously ill was difficult for him. It shook Zuko to his core, and his fear of losing his wife, partner, and lifelong friend consumed him. The thought of a future without you in it felt unbearable, and he was overwhelmed and worried.
His nights were filled with restless sleep and countless hours spent by your side,talking and holding your hand , praying for your recovery. He couldn't bear the idea of a world without you.
Seeing how worried he was, you, even in you weakened state, reached out to comfort him.
You understood his fear and With a gentle touch, you assured him that your love was not bound by a single lifetime,that if the worst were to happen, you would seek him out in each and every one of your next lives. You promised to always look for him, to find him in the bond you shared, and to love him across time and space.
And yes, in every life time you two continued to fall in love, again and again.
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POWERLESS
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VALENTINO X DAUGHTER READER
PART 2 (part 1)
Summary: Being Valentino's daughter, you should be used to this, right? You should know him, right? But you really don't.
Genre: Smut, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Psychological
Note: Val is referred to as Daddy throughout, Readers age is not specified
HUGE WARNING: RAPE! PHYSICAL ABUSE! NON-CON! MANIPULATION!
Warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Incest, sexual themes, contracts, manipulation, Val is an asshole, Val is a pshyco, Biting, no foreplay, yelling, threats, talk of breeding, virginity taken, naive reader,
Let me know if I missed any!!
(I do not condone any actions of Valentino in this piece of fiction)
NOT PROOF READ (I spent way to long writing this leave me alone :,))
After that shoot, Daddy had taken you to a lot of his shoots. His goal in his words is to “Get you accustomed to Daddy’s working environment,” you never know why exactly he wants you to get accustomed, but you assume it's so then you can hang out comfortably in Daddy’s studio. You don't mind it, obviously. Despite the inappropriate activities that go on you enjoy spending that time with Daddy. 
Though something you notice is how every shoot you go to, Daddy appears more deranged and.. ‘regal’. He acts more powerful towards his employees, they seem frightened, intimidated by his demeanor. You don't like it, not one bit. Every single shoot he gets worse, and somehow he pulls you closer.
That first instance of his questions wasn't the last, either. But it feels so normal, and you hate it.
But do you really? 
Daddy makes you question it every single day. He doesn't take you to all of his shoots, but it's become enough that you feel normal when he nibbles on your ear and asks if you like what you’re watching. And every single time you answer the same way, ‘Yes daddy, I love it,’ or  just a simple ‘yes’. Though you don't understand what's happening for most of it. It all feels so odd, so different, yet normal. 
One day when you didn't accompany Daddy to his shoot, you instead hung out with Vox for the entire day. 
Vox is also different to you. You don't often hang out with him- or at least not as much as Velvette. He's cool, and he's also beloved by many. Just walking through the office with him made you feel like you were being watched, judged, scorned by many. But Vox makes it clear that just being with him makes people adore you. 
You’ve never been an official member of the Vees, more of an honorary member that doesn't really do anything but be treated. And at first, that label fit. You enjoyed being treated. 
But now you just feel like a puppy following its master. No matter who you’re with in the Vees. You feel like a dog, like a pet, like an object. 
You never go out alone. You don't know why, any time you’ve brought up the idea Daddy detailed that if you were alone anywhere someone would hurt you. But more and more you’ve been craving it. That individuality from your family, or daddy. 
One day, perhaps. Perhaps you could go out in the world without your leash, without an owner with you. You could be individual, be different. People could know you, not as ‘Valentino’s daughter,’ but as-
“Baby, have you picked an outfit yet?” 
Daddy snaps you from your daze, you realize this entire time you’ve been thinking. Daydreaming. Ruminating. But you have picked an outfit, at the very least. It's a very cute skirt and sweater combo, a red heart pattern across both garments. Though the skirt is a bit short for your comfort, you remember Daddy complimenting the skirt earlier. And you’d like to make him happy. 
“Yes Daddy! Sorry,” You say, running from your bedroom to where Daddy is adjusting his coat. He chuckles to himself, shaking his head in dismissal as he looks over at the outfit you wear. He squints his eyes, making an audible hum before leaning down to your level. “How about we make it sexier?” Daddy asks, pinching your cheek between his claws. 
“I guess, what were you thinking?” Daddy chuckles again at your words, slightly darker in tone than you’re used to. 
Daddy takes a long cigarette in his hand, seemingly appearing from thin air as he holds it in his hand. He then lights it quickly with a lighter that also seems to appear from thin air. The smoke is pink, a familiar pink that draws you in and makes you dizzy.
“I was thinking,” Daddy pulls his hand across the cigarette, before tilting his hand towards your bare legs. In a quick moment the smoke glows and envelops your legs, tickling up your legs to your crotch where it stops; and before you can even ask what he's doing the smoke disappears, a pair of black fishnet stockings where the smoke once was. “Something like this,” 
You look down, immediately feeling exposed. You’d never wore anything like this before, and with the skirt it feels even more dirty. 
“I-I don't know Daddy, it seems kind of expo-”
Daddy leans down, placing two hands on your shoulders and the others on your waist. You sometimes forget that Daddy has four arms. It's so normal that you forget that you only have two of them. 
“Oh c’mon baby, I’m not raising a prude, am I?” 
You gulp, trying to look away, but Daddy immediately uses one of the hands on your shoulders to tilt your head back to him. Though his eyes are soft. He's just helping you, yeah. He's just trying to make you feel more comfortable. 
“Am I?” He asks again, leaning closer to your small frame. 
“N-No Dad- Daddy.. I'll wear it,” You assure, placing your hand against his fluffy cuff. Daddy hums, not really saying anything nor moving, however. It's odd, he just looks at you, a grin on his features. 
In a flash, Daddy places a long kiss against your forehead, pulling away and uttering “Good girl,” Then he turns around, placing a lower arm around your waist as you both walk to the door. 
For a good moment, you’re both in silence again, going down floors to the studio you are filming in today. You don't mind being in silence with Daddy, especially if he's touching you so softly like he is now. He seems to be thinking about something, probably about the shoot, or about Angel, or Vox. 
And then the silence breaks. 
“You know,” Daddy purrs, voice low and raspy. He moves a languid hand to your hair, tangling his fingers into the mop and tilting your head up. He leans down. “You’re such a good girl for me,” you flush, feeling one of his hands caress the side of your cheek. 
“Th-thank-”
“You could make us so much money if I didn't want you all to myself~” Daddy rasps, pulling his cigarette to his lips and taking a drag, blowing it into your face. You mumble, “Wh-what..?” You feel dizzy, veins on fire and legs weak. 
“Don’t worry your pretty head about it, Mi Amor..” Daddy chuckles beneath his breath, leaning so close you can taste his sweet breath on your own. Closer, closer. You can feel his tongue against your lip. What's happening, you can think straight. That smoke has made you dizzy. 
Why is Daddy so close, why is he about to kiss you? Why is he pushing his tongue into your mouth, why are his lips tightly against your own. Why are you moaning, why is he pulling on your hair. It's like he's sucking the life out of you. You can't get enough. Don't stop. 
His tongue and your own intertwine, a lascivious taboo in the air. He groans deeply, an evil in his voice. How long have you been doing this for? Why haven't the elevator doors opened? What is happening? 
Before you can blink, his lips are away and you are both stepping out of the elevator onto the studio floor like nothing happened. 
“Daddy, what-” 
“What's up, baby?” 
You pause, unsure of yourself even. 
“I-I don't know..” 
“Odd, maybe you should get that checked out,” Daddy laughs. 
Maybe you are just delusional.
_________________
You'd been shooting all day. Every time you look at the clock another hour has passed it seems. Now you'd been shooting for about.. 
13 hours. Straight. 
The sets had changed, the actors had changed, the only thing that doesn't change is Angel dust. He's there, he has the star role in every single shoot. It's odd, really. You don't know why Daddy doesn't try other stars, just Angel. He looks so tired, and you are to. Daddy had gotten you food and drinks whenever you request, but it looks as though he's not treating angel with that same kindness. 
You want to talk to Angel, ask him what's going on, maybe sneak him some food. But you don't. 
You're a coward. 
But you don't want to be. Maybe you can be better. It's not like Daddy will be shooting for much longer. 
“What's this one, Daddy?” You ask, holding an iced coffee Daddy ordered Kitty to get for you after you said you were tired. Really you were hoping if you said you were tired, Daddy would end the shoot and take you home. But instead, of course he gave you a coffee, kisses your forehead, and kept doing the shoot. 
“This scene is Angel doing a bunch of guys because he doesn't have any money to pay for his pizza, part 4,” 
“Part 4?” You question, squinting your eyes. Daddy nods, wrapping an arm around your waist as he takes a sip from your iced coffee. “Well in this part the Pizza man is bringing all his friends to teach angel a lesson.” Daddy utters, looking towards the dressing room where Angel currently is getting ready. The set is already set up, the only thing missing being the actors.
“I don't know..” You say, looking over at the door where Angel is emerging in a sexy pink lingerie set. “Doesn't he look like he's been taught enough lessons?” You ask, gesturing towards the spent looking Angel Dust.
“Oh baby,” Daddy purrs, placing a hand on your fishnet clad thigh. “No such thing as enough lessons, you know this,” You nod, looking over at Angel again as he talks to one of the other actors. 
“I just-” 
“Baby,” 
You look up at Daddy, or rather he makes you as he places a hand on your chin. His eyes are once again glowing a deep pink behind those glasses of his, darkening when they bore into your own. You shiver, the proximity making you dizzy as it did before. 
“Don't question me,” 
You gulp down saliva painfully. 
“Y-yes Daddy, m’ sorry Daddy.” 
“Good girl,” 
____________
The shoot ends up lasting for another 2 hours before you ask Daddy if you can step out for a bit to ‘Get off’. Daddy of course let you do so, which you knew he would. You think he likes the idea of you enjoying his work that much, but you could never be sure. 
What he doesn't know, and what you were anxious to do is that you snuck into Angels dressing room. You want to talk to him, more than anything. You don't know why, you want to know why so badly however. Your plan is to catch him next time he comes in the change his clothes, and you can ask him all the questions on your mind. 
The biggest one is if Daddy is always like this to him, and why he is. Does Daddy hurt Angel? You don't think so, but the idea becomes more possible with every minute. 
Angels dressing room is interesting. There's wigs, clothes, and a nice plush couch that you plan to sit on. Theres pretty pink glows filling the entire room as well, making the room fell rather warm and comfortable.
You make your way towards the couch, marveling in the pretty light pink accents and the cute heart shaped pillow. You wonder why there's a couch, anyway. It's not like you've ever seen Daddy let angel rest, let alone sit down. But you digress, settling for sitting in the corner of the couch with the pillow on your lap. 
And then you look up. 
It's one of Vox’s cameras, looking directly at you. 
What were you thinking? Fuck, why did you even do this? Vox is going to tell Daddy, and Daddy is going to come in and get you so you can't ask Angel any questions! You should have hid, not sat out in the wide open! Your heart is racing, your breath is short. You’re about to pass out. This anxiety, why is it so heavy? Daddy would never hurt you 
“”Don't question me”” 
Fuck. 
Maybe if you hide, Daddy will think Vox is just kidding. Oh what are you saying? Daddy knows you, he’ll know just what you’re doing. 
You look over at the camera once more, before settling your eyes on the door. You’re just going to have to endure the inevitable, you just have to. There's nothing you can do. You've fucked it.
I can only blame myself. 
The door is open in a slam, the mirror next to the window shattering on the impact. It's Daddy he's angry, fuming, furious. He closes the door behind him and locks it faster than you can blink, and you realize he's not wearing his coat anymore. His wings are fluffed in anger, and worst of all it's all directed at you. 
You stand, walking towards him.
“D-Daddy.. I'm so sorry I didn't mean- I'm just-” 
Daddy throws a hand against your neck, pushing you towards the corner next to the couch with a ‘SLAM’. you cry out in pain and fright, dangling from the floor so your eyes are at his level. 
“What makes you think you can just go doing whatever you want?! You think you can be more powerful than me?” Daddy's hand tightens around your neck. Not so tight you can't breath, however.
“No- I,” 
“You’re fucking powerless! You think you can tell me how I treat my employees?! You’re nothing but my idiot daughter who seems to have forgotten her place,” 
“That's not what I was d-doing I was just going-”
Daddy throws you by your neck to the couch, lunging onto you like a predator. 
“You were just going to ask Angel if he was okay? Gonna see if he was having any fun?” Daddy hisses, taking the your hands when they try to push him off and pushing them above your head. 
“News flash, baby. He isn't. And that doesn't fucking matter, that bitch makes me money and that's all I care- I own him. 
“Daddy you cant-” 
“You really think you can help Angel? This is hell, you only care about your family and your friends, nobody else. Especially not fucking whores like him,” 
You sob, tears making your eyes sting. 
“You think you can protect him? Can protect anyone?” 
You shake your head, Daddy’s lower arms holding your thighs down against your body, making it hard for you to move. 
“This isn't right! You c-cant just hurt people-” 
“I can do whatever the fuck I want with him- I own him. Just like I own you..” Daddy growls, stroking a hand against your cheek.
You look at Daddy, confusion in your teary eyes. 
“Wh-what?” 
“I was the one that got you killed, the reason you’re down here. It's all for your own good. You signed the contract, Baby,” 
You flinch when Daddy strengthens his grip on your wrists. 
“The contract? I thought that was so I could live with you- I don't-” 
“Learn how to read contracts, baby,” Daddy growls, moving his hand from your cheek so he can summon the golden contract, holding it above your eyes so you can read it. 
And he's right. 
‘This contact also give Valentino complete ownership of your soul, your body, and your being. Valentino may use you for anything he pleases, no matter what it does to you.’ 
You cry out, tears burning your cheeks as they fall. 
“How could you do this to me, Daddy?! You’re supposed to protect me-” 
“It's so I don't have to share you with any of these fucking assholes in hell, I can have you all to myself. This contract does keep you safe,”
You whine out in pain as Daddy's claws dig into your thighs. 
“I dont-” 
Daddy forces his large hand around your throat again, cutting off your words. 
“I do what I need to get what I want, if I what I want is to own my daughter so she won't ever fuck anyone but me, I'll do it. If I want to beat my employees when they fuck up, I can. And if I want to hold you down against your will and Fuck you into obidence, I will take that fucking virginity and tear it up just like your mother's!!” 
Daddy growls.
“Fuck me? Dad I'm so confused-” 
“That's right, little slut. I was planning on going slow with you on this but I am so fucking done with letting you off the hook. I spend way to much of my fucking money on your pretty ass to not get what I want out of it-” 
“Dad- I thought you-” 
“You thought wrong, little baby. Now lay back and take it like a fucking champ or I'll make you.” 
“No! You can't! Stop-” 
“No one's saving you,” Daddy growls, tearing your panties apart like they are made out of paper. 
“Scream and cry all you like, I will make you understand that this behavior is not fucking getting past me! You will fucking learn!” 
You sob. 
“Y-yes Daddy..” 
“Good.” 
This picture is so different to the Daddy you once knew. All this time, was Daddy just this cruel man? Where had you gone wrong? Why couldn't you just stay silent? This is your fault. He isn't just playing. You thought he was, but this is all to real to be playing. 
“P-please stop..” You whimper, legs shaking as Daddy pries your legs apart to reveal the wetness of your pussy. Daddy chuckles. “Oh baby, we’re far past begging.. you should have thought of that beforr you kept fucking fighting me-” 
Daddy laughs again, pressing a finger against your clit. 
“Now should I be nice to you, give you a little foreplay, or do you wanna keep being a little bitch and I'll just have to fuck you no prep?” 
You cry, sniffling as you shake your head. 
“FINE! No prep it is then! I'll just fucking force my way into that ungrateful cunt!” Daddy growls flipping you around so your ass is in the air and your head is pressed into the couch cushion. 
“You’re so fucking lucky I love you, or you would be torn to fucking shreds.” Daddy places two hands either side of your head, the other fumbling with his belt. You hate that sound as much as you love it. Why do you kind of like this? The anticipation is as awful as it is exciting. There must be something else wrong with you. 
“D-daddy.. please be gentle..” 
“You think you deserve that?” Daddy asks, nibbling your ear as you hear his belt discarded across the room. Next is the zipper. “Be honest, Baby,” 
You cry, “No..” 
“Good girl, stay still for me.” 
Already? Stay still? No. Stop. You want him to stop, you do, you promise. You’ll be good just- 
The whole entire length of Daddy's cock is shoved in you in one go, forcefully and painfully. You see red, you scream, you wail. And he doesn't give you time to adjust either, holding you down by your shoulders and hips as he takes away your virginity. 
Every thrust hurts, every thrust make you scream, but you can't do anything to stop it. 
“Oh baby, you feel so fucking good on my cock- how did I even control myself?” Daddy growls, dragging his pink tongue across your neck. You feel his saliva wetten your skin. 
“Daddy..” 
Daddy’s thrusts speed up, uncaring for your sobs. 
“That virginity of your’s feels so good being broken baby.. if I could breed you I would- oh imagine your swollen belly with all my kids~ sexy..” 
“N-no-” 
“Oh yes baby, just feel my cock.. imagine how many times you could have me plow you baby,” 
“Y-yes Daddy..” 
This whole thing is a mixed bag. What does he want? Does he want you to be his? Because you already are. What does he get out of tearing you down.. 
He gets power over you, and a pretty little cocksleeve, it seems. 
“Baby, you’re such a sexy thing when you're scared, you know that?” Daddy asks, tilting your head so you can see his dark large silhouette over your own. “I just love it when your frightened of me,” 
“Do you like it baby?” 
You are getting Deja Vu, Deja Vu of when this all started. When he held your face and squeezed your thigh. 
“Y-yes Daddy,” 
“Good girl,” he says, just as he did then. 
A clawed finger meets your clit, rubbing it softly in contrast to the ravenous pace he sets in your hole. Yet it feels better and better every second. What was once a white hot pain is now a red hot pleasure. You can stop it. Your daddy is being so evil, so wretched. 
And you don't want it to stop. 
“Baby, what happened to all that crying? Are you enjoying yourself..?” Daddy asks, pulling out for a moment as he forces your body back onto it's back, making him seem even bigger and more scary. 
Daddy forces his cock back into your pussy, you feel it all the way in your stomach. 
“Don't worry baby,” thrust, “Daddy won't judge you,” thrust. You whimper, legs dangling in the air pathetically as Daddy takes control of you. 
“A little..” 
“Perfect,” Daddy growls, forcing his tongue down your throught until you gag. It's like that kiss before, yet more evil, sinister, and the other one was such a blur.
This one is more vivid than the sun. You can feel everything, you can feel his sharp teeth against your own, you can feel his tongue brush against yours, you can feel his large hand grope your breasts, you can taste his pink saliva. 
His cock is so big inside of you, you can't deny, and you think Daddy can tell as well. Because he reaches for your hand, pressing it against your exposed stomach where your sweater rose up; and low and behold, there is a prominent bulge where his cock bullies your cunt. 
“Do you feel that Mi Amor? Do you feel Daddy’s big cock tearing you open?” 
You moan, loudly. 
“Y-yes-” 
Daddy chuckles, leaning down to your neck. He grips your jaw, tilting it. 
White hot pain is all you feel, Daddy’s teeth sink so deeply into your neck you can feel yourself go lightheaded. But you cum. You cum so hard the pain doesn't even hurt. It feels so good, better than anything you’ve ever felt. 
Daddy cums to, dumping a large amount of seed into your needy cunt until you can feel it dripping back out of you again. Daddy chuckles at this, pulling his teeth from your neck so blood begins to drip from the wound. 
“So much cum, baby. No one has ever made me cum that hard..” 
You nod, dazed. 
“I sent everyone home, baby, so don't worry about everyone seeing your powerless little body after it got pounded, got me?” 
You look up at Vox’s camera. 
“Y-yes Daddy.” 
You’ve never felt more lost. 
But at least you have Valentino, right? 
Right? 
--------
Part 3???
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blackheartbiohazards · 12 hours
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SoJ is a game that left me conflicted when it came out. Its emotional beats are top notch, I think, but then when I talked about the game with my friend, I found myself criticizing the writing and characters and setting. It's all rather over the top and simplistic and let's just say the main villain didn't impress me lol.
Hope it's an easy question to answer: what's your opinion on Nahyuta? It seems he's one of the most divisive prosecutors in the series along with Barok van Zieks.
Oh, wow, woof, yeah. "Conflicted" is about how I would sum up my feelings on SOJ as well.
I kind of hate the plot and the themes of it. Basically every case has something to say on the theme of hereditary legacy, and what it says in every single case is "hereditary legacy is objectively good and we should work to uphold and perpetuate it." and I hate that. 
I hate that because in absolutely every case the hereditary legacy has unquestionably damaged and fucked over the kids inheriting it, and the narrative wants them to accept it on their shoulders like its a good thing. It damaged and fucked over Trucy, it damaged and fucked over Maya, it damaged and fucked over Geiru and Bucky, it sure as fucking hell damaged and fucked over Apollo, Rayfa, and Nahyuta. Hell, it fucked over Gar'an as well!
And the narrative wants them to uphold their abusive family legacies, and holds them doing so up as a personal triumph, rather than the obvious perpetuation of a broken cycle that it is.
I mean they literally spell it out in the narrative. The tradition in Kura'in is that "the sins of the father are visited on the children." But instead of the narrative saying "actually that's fucked up and we shouldn't believe that" the narrative instead says "that's okay because your father was actually free of sin!"
It's immensely fucked up thematically.
And that's not even getting into unpacking the uh, uncomfortable exocticism (and sometimes outright racist tropes) that are jam packed into the portrayal of Kura'in.
But Nahyuta.
Oh Nahyuta.
I spent the entire game repeatedly saying "I hate this guy's attitude" and "this guy makes me really uncomfortable", because I wasn't comfortable saying "I hate this guy". Because I was sure the trauma backstory was coming.
And oh boy did it come.
There is nobody who has been more immensely fucked over by inheritance than Nahyuta, oh boy.
And suddenly in the very last couple hours of the game it puts all of Nahyuta's extremely annoying preaching and holier than thou attitude into perspective. Because it's a direct result of religious abuse perpetuated against him, and and his own way of coping with the basically fucking doomed abusive situation that he's put himself in.
Here is a young man who has been raised as a tool and a weapon by his insurgent father. Nahyuta is a "defiant dragon" to his father first, before he is ever a son. And Nahyuta desperately wants to please his father, but he doesn't agree with his tactics.
So he trains his whole life to go and fight the battle in his own way, to do things the way he thinks is right– and he's immediately trapped and blackmailed into a situation from which there is no escape.
I love Nahyuya and I want so much better for him. Having him and Apollo and Rayfa stay in Kura'in is an absolutely tragic bad ending for them, where they're all forced to continue living out the pantomime of their father's shadow.
In my imagination, (and one day in my fic) six months after Spirit of Justice there is a schism in the Defiant Dragons between the monarchists and the socialists, and Apollo, Nahyuta and Rayfa end up having to back to go LA and pick up their lives and deal with the trauma of their crushing family legacy.
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faeskiss · 10 hours
Text
A DANGEROUS GAME
Zaros x reader!
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It’s been weeks since the trials have begun, life has constantly been dragging me down, it just gets harder and harder, every trial is more difficult and draining than the last
Having the throne is MY birthright, no ruler in Serulla has had to fight for it since a millennia, so WHY me? Sometimes, I just want to get away from it all, to run away, and never look back, but I can’t do that, I’d never do that to my mother and I CERTAINLY won’t let Zaros win so easily
I can’t believe there was a time where I pined over him like a naïve, halfwit being, that sort of behaviour was certainly not appropriate for a dignified, future regnant like me, but I have since corrected myself
I won’t tolerate his constant brawling or his scorn insults anymore, I have let him throw cruel insults my way many times before , ignoring his contempt on purpose, letting it go, for I have to uphold my family’s name so I certainly should not be seen going around engaging in useless disputes
But if he strikes again, it might just get ugly, and the nobles might just have a new scandal to talk about for the rest of eternity
I am currently standing in the corner of the ballroom, it’s become my favourite spot these days, a corner, but I fear I simply don’t have it in me to fake smiles and engage in asinine chatter with these duplicitous people tonight
the party is in full swing, people are dancing and getting drunk on wine and mindless gossip, yes another day, another party, "a well deserved break” as my mother likes to call it
I take another sip of my drink, that’s when I notice Zaros joking and laughing with a group of nobles, he then proceeds to give them the most charming smile I have ever seen, he used to smile at me like that…all.the.time, he's been doing this all night, dancing, mingling with every single person at this party except for me…….not that I care, I'd rather stay far, far away from him
a sudden wave of unease washes through me, why is he smiling at random people when he hasn’t even approached me all night? Am I really THAT uninteresting and repulsive to him? I thought he hated all nobles with a surging passion? So why is he smiling and laughing with them and NOT me?
Oh god, I sound like an obsessed lovefool, but seeing him be so affectionate and content with other people, well to put it lightly stings…..a bit, there was once a time in our lives where we were completely, inseparable, that in itself feels like a lifetime ago but it still hurts to reminisce …..is it…possible…that I’m jealous….right now?
I shake my head vehemently, no no no no, no it can’t be, it’s just the champagne getting to my head, I quickly put my glass down on the table near me, not liking the way the intoxicant is making me think, perhaps I just need to distract myself
I roam around the ballroom till I find my mother talking to the judges of the trials, reluctantly, I join in the conversation, they are talking about all the progress so far, oh god, why are they talking about the trials at a party that is meant to be a break FROM the trials…
“How are you liking the party my dear” my mother asks
“It’s lovely, thank you for organising it” I reply with a faint smile
“And how’s Zaros? Is he having fun?” she asks
I wouldn’t know cause he hasn’t spoken a word to me all night, but from the looks of it, he’s having a fucking blast
“I’m sure he’s enjoying himself as well” I say
I stand near the group, pretending to listen earnestly, but I can’t stop stealing glances at Zaros, the way he dances, his constant laughter, his soft smile, he just looks so happy, at this point my eyes are practically locked on him, that is until he catches me peering at him
Horrified, I abruptly turn away, so much so I’m pretty sure I strained my neck in the process
“Are you okay earis? You look a bit rattled” one of the judges asks me
“Oh no, no, no I’m perfectly fine, just a bit overwhelmed, you know how draining these parties can be” I reply awkwardly
The song ends and so does the dance with it, the sound of clapping and laughter echoes through the ballroom
“If you’re feeling tired please don’t hesitate to go and rest, you’re probably already exhausted from the stress of the trials, I
want you to feel your best and healthiest my love” says my mother as she gives me a warm smile
“You’re right, I should probably retire for the night, thank you for understanding” I say quite tiredly
“Well then, it’s been an enjoyable day but I must go and rest, it was a pleasure spending time with you all and I hope you all had a wonderful evening, good night!” I bid goodbye to the group and start to make my way out
I am almost out of the room when I suddenly feel someone grab a hold of my arm
confused and quite shocked at the sudden gesture, I turn swiftly, and when I do I am met with those familiar, piercing green eyes staring right into mine, mischief gleaming in them
“And where do you think you’re going?” asks Zaros in a low, strict tone
“I just feel a bit tired, so I thought I’d end the night early, why? Do you have a problem with that too” I reply, an unexpected irritation plaguing my voice
“Tired already? You haven’t even danced, my, my, you of all people should know that it’s rude for a royal to not engage with the party thrown by their own family, it’s not a good look on your part” he says with a stupid, sly smirk on his face
“Shouldn’t my disgrace only add to your elation?” I ask with all the heartlessness my voice can muster
“Oh trust me it does” he says with a stupid laugh as if I’ve shared an intriguing jest
“How about you quit your baseless play and tell me what you want, I have better places to be” I sneer
“What like your room?" he says with that same stupid laughter
"Well I was originally coming over to ask you to dance with me, but I got distracted by your cold demeanour, so back to what I actually approached you for, would you be so kind as to join me for a dance?” he asks
“I’m not sure if you’ve always been this stupid or it’s the wine talking, why would I dance with you after your constant jabs? I don’t care, leave me alone” I hiss
“Alright then, let’s make this a little more interesting, take it as a challenge, I challenge you to dance with me, if you refuse, you lose, and I’ll win, like always” he says with a hint of mischief in his voice
“Oh fuck you, as if I’ll fall for your stupid trick” I scoff
“Alright then, off to bed with you, loser” he replies in a slow mocking manner….
I can feel my anger, hot and red, slowly flaming up inside of me, I know I shouldn’t fall for his trap, but I can’t let him have this, not after all his constant insults, I’ll take this opportunity to fuck with his brain a little, two can play this game
“Fine, I’ll dance with you, but only.one.song” I say in a strict manner
“That’s more like it” he replies with that same stupid smirk
He offers me his hand, I have no choice but to take it, we make our way to the middle of the floor and suddenly everyone starts to gape in our direction, how could they not? two rivals sharing a dance is certainly a sight to keenly watch….
The music is rather slow and soulful, the kind you'd play at a wedding for couples to dance to….I can't believe I have to dance with him to such a song
He slowly encircles my waist with his arm, and grabs one of my hands, intertwining our fingers, my free hand resting on one of his shoulders, this form is rather intimate and it makes me blush a bit…..this is so embarrassing, we slowly start moving, it's nothing fancy and I mostly follow his lead
"God your form is utterly terrible tonight, certainly the worst out of anyone I've danced with so far at this party" he mocks
"Do you ever stop running your fucking mouth? WHY did you even ask me to dance with you?" I ask in frustration
"Oh please lighten up, I'm just messing with you, learn to take a joke for once" he replies in a annoyed manner
I roll my eyes and swallow my anger, I want to get back at him but I'm scared to cause a scene, people expect a certain grace and courtesy from me than him, I think I'd rather live up to that
He twirls and dips me once, I am aware of all the times his hands brush against my skin, gentle and subtle, there's a certain unexpected sincerity in his touch, it's alive with vulnerability and tenderness, something I definitely don't expect from him
he dips me again, and as I come up, he traces his fingers down my back and pulls me in, my chest flutters in response, what the hell is he doing? I suddenly realise the swift shift in the atmosphere between us, I instantly notice exactly HOW close he is to me right now, oh this is dangerous, so very dangerous
"Zaros what the hell are you doing? You're way too close!" I whisper to him frantically
"I am as close as I need to be" he says in a low, soft and magnetic tone
He suddenly turns me so that my back faces him, my mind is reeling and whirling with a million thoughts "as close as I need to be" what does that even mean? Is this one of his tricks to torture me? I should've never accepted his proposal, I should've just gone to sleep
That’s when I suddenly feel his voice sneak into my ears, I can feel my heartbeat quickening by the second, I can feel his warmth creeping up on me, it’s all such a feverish daze…
"By the way, don't think I forgot your constant stares in my direction earlier, do I really look that ravishing tonight?" he says, his voice is laced with reckless yearning and temptation so deep….I think I might drown in it if I’m not careful
“Don’t flatter yourself” I say with restraint
“I thought we promised to never lie to each other, hmm?” he replies
I stay silent, not really knowing how to respond
“Well one of us needs to be honest here, I think, you’re the most alluring being to grace these palace walls….dare I say this world? Sometimes I lie awake at night, thinking of those torturous lips of yours, what they would feel like against my own, to feel your skin melt under my touch, it’s funny actually, I’ve had partners before, but none of them have left me as lovelorn as you”
I try to speak, but my mouth fails me, I try to think but it’s like I’m paralysed, I am completely and utterly under his mercy,
The song is nearing it’s end and so is my composure, the only thing my mind can register is his agonizingly tempting voice and the scandalous words it whispers that are both, making me want to die of shame and kiss him till I forget my own name
"wh-where is all this coming from, I thought you loathed me?" I ask in a shaky voice
"Contempt and desire can co-exist, they're similar emotions in a way, both will make you go insane for the person you feel them towards and who wouldn't go insane for you" he says as he lifts my chin, his thumb lightly traces my lower lip, my body shudders in response to his touch, I've completely forgotten that people might be staring at us, but I couldn't care less, I can only hope that people are drunk out of their minds to even notice us, his hand travels back to my waist but this time his grip is tighter, we stare into each other's eyes for the rest of the dance, both unable to act on our heart's true desire for there is way too much at stake
After one last turn, the song ends and so does the dance
"We still have a lot to figure out, you and I, I can't believe I'm saying this but…..I quite enjoyed the dance and I certainly look forward to-"
I suddenly feel his soft,warm lips on my cheek, my world stops, the kiss is soft and gentle, empty of vain or ill intent, just a pure kiss that one might share with their lover, the crowd around us gasps in shock and disbelief, but all I can focus on is the shameless yet charming smile on his lips, it's the same smile my eyes have been dying to see for the past eight years, and for the first time in a long time
my heart skips a beat
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hikkikoaubrey · 2 days
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Please read, don't scroll pass this. (II)
One the previous post I talked about the KOSA Bill and the TikTok Ban Bill as you can see above, but now for this post I'm going to talk about something of even greater importance. Project 2025.
Project 2025 is a plan from Republicans / Conservatives to seize total control of America from the inside out while destroying democracy in the process, ultimately turning America into a Christian nationalist militarized state. One of the main ways they plan on making this a reality is through Trump getting a second term as president.
If this comes to pass, this will ruin and even end the lives of many, and to make it worse, the changes caused by Project 2025 will still be in effect even long after Trump's second term ends.
We cannot let Trump when this election, and as much as I hate this, Biden is really our only choice since voting on a 3rd party will most likely won't work. I know Biden has a lot of problems, but we don't have a choice.
Here is some more links with some additional info (including the actual Project 2025 website), please look more into this and spread this around (even if you're not in America)
Website
Project 2025 | Presidential Transition Project
Videos
youtube
The Conservative Plan to Take Over the Country (you need to know about this) (youtube.com)
Project 2025: The Fascist Plan For America (youtube.com)
Tweets
Project 2025 (@Prjct2025) / X (twitter.com)
STOP THE COUP 2025 #StopProject2025 (@stopthecoup2025) / X (twitter.com)
https://x.com/oogamretsim/status/1769776085221220774?s=20
BMB Empower Network on X: "A guide to #Project2025, the extreme #rightwing agenda for the next #Republican administration, aims to roll back #civilrights and destroy the #federalgovernment. https://t.co/TVhHMRjjTD" / X (twitter.com)
NowThis Impact on X: "When conservatives tell you what their plan is, believe them. Here’s how Project 2025 aims to break down the U.S. government, dismantle the education system, institute a national abortion ban... and that’s just the beginning. https://t.co/htZORS5whU" / X (twitter.com)
https://x.com/cardon_brian/status/1772756740016099494?s=20
David Pepper on X: "🚨 🚨 NEW WHITEBOARD 2024 is being framed as Trump vs. Biden. But Trump’s unhinged Ohio speech the other day, his past actions, the ominous Project 2025, and more, make clear that the election really is about: Trump vs YOU… and your FREEDOM. WATCH, RT and then… https://t.co/qG0Nr5SYOj" / X (twitter.com)
https://x.com/ruthbenghiat/status/1770499903640264865?s=20
Kanis The Arctic Wolf 🔜 Florida on X: "WE CANNOT STAY SILENT ABOUT THIS! Project 2025 and KOSA are DANGEROUS, it’s a threat to all of our rights and democracy as a whole. If we don’t stand up for our rights now, we won’t have them to fight for later on. SPREAD THE WORD, DEFEND OUR RIGHTS, IT TAKES ALL OF US!" / X (twitter.com)
https://x.com/batzless/status/1770583846540509549?s=20
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mewtwo24 · 3 months
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I finally finished reading the fourth volume of svsss in full, and thing is--the first time through I only read the bingqiu content because I was ravenous for more of their happy ending.
Turns out that was a perilous mistake.
Because I started reading the airplane extras. And I swear to god. MXTX is trying to kill me
What do you MEAN demon lord Binghe was sitting on his big fucking throne. All stoic and forbidding. Surrounded by his demon generals who don't know shit about human courtship. Asking them what he should do, fully demoralized by constant rejections from sqq, only to have airplane tell him to act more pathetic and needy. Which is already hysterically funny and insane, UNTIL LBH'S RESPONSE IS THIS, KILLING ME INSTANTLY:
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LUO BINGHE. WHY DOES HE SAY IT LIKE: "I already tried that, didn't work--nothing works :/ not mean, not maidenly, not housewife, not spicy, not capable disciple. Is doubling down on clingy really all it will take? What's a born hater with only one love in his life to do????"
The dichotomy of him sitting there like 'how can I reach the unfathomable depths of shizun's heart?' A HEART HE'S ALREADY WON OVER, MIND and then in the Holy Mausoleum solving the puzzle without blinking and being like 'oh yeah you just have to hit the acupoints, no sweat.' Literally the comedy writes itself I'm so--
How am I supposed to be normal about this. MXTX understands the juicy quintessential queer joy of a person with the world's power at their fingertips wishing only for love. Willing to do anything to earn that love, when unbeknownst to them it's already been freely given. Totally not screaming and yelling and clawing at the walls
And that's not even touching airplane's uproarious account of events. The way he's like 'lol what's next, lbh and sqq are best friends now? smfh' only to see lbh TACKLE SQQ LOVINGLY. FOR SQQ TO BE BASHFUL ABOUT IT BUT SO SO FOND OF THE LITTLE SCAMP. This when we've been experiencing sqq's constant inner monologue of 'I'm so cool and so dignified about my role, truly the epitome of propriety and poser-level fortitude.' Meanwhile, in their universe:
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Airplane constantly flaming???? Sqq and lbh in his observations????? His absolute bewilderment and confusion????? Legendary. No notes every single second of this shit was hilarious.
Airplane's comment that sqq + older adolescent lbh traveling together was just watching a couple in their honeymoon phase. OR the fact that lbh is exceedingly petty and refuses to share their food in the wake of airplane's interruption of their time together, until sqq relents sheepishly and insists airplane eat what's left (ONLY AFTER PLACATING LBH WITH MORE FOOD FROM HIS PLATE, SOBBING)
Watching airplane salivate over Mobei-Jun and acting like that's totally normal behavior. Finding out mbj and airplane got together first. Finding out sqq encouraged airplane. LIKE THIS. WHILE HE IS STILL IN DENIAL ABOUT HIS OWN FEELINGS:
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Mobei-jun clearly thinking their arrangement is a forever thing, heartbroken his human abandoned him with all the hapless fury of a scorned wife swept away by false promises of fidelity. Airplane writing demons to be the type to beat up their crush lovingly and still unable to connect the dots about mbj's feelings. Mbj letting him go and respecting his wishes, only relenting when there's indication airplane was poorly processing his own feelings and didn't actually want to leave. Mbj caring for him and listening to him as soon as airplane voices what he needs directly and with clarity. None of these gays are functional and it's everything to me
Unrelated, but I physically can't hold this information in anymore:
I'm still reeling from younger lbh having his sexual awakening from the image of sqq wrapped in the immortal binding cables. Condemn me as you like he was so, so real for that.
And no I will not be taking any comments about how luo bingge couldn't bear to see luo binghe cherished in ways he never got to have and all the haunting implications of that. I will also not be taking any comments about luo binghe's instinct to look for sqq in that alternate universe, only to be shaken to the very core to be unable to find his shizun anywhere. The unspeakable and latent horror of his relentless mind likely piecing together what happened, but unable to say it; to suspect what is true, and live with the harrowing confusion of his double's actions. To blame himself, to assume that he had let his anger get the better of him in that world and result in unspeakable folly...
I also refuse to talk about how heartrending it is to hear Tianlang-jun weakly say "In the end, I really can't bring myself to hate humans." The implication that the foolishness of that hope and bright-eyed fondness--the very thing that put him through such unspeakable agony--couldn't be beaten out of him entirely. To discover that his faith in Su Xiyan hadn't been misplaced, to the contrary: his beloved hadn't scorned him at all, but rather fought to the miserable end to protect the fruition of their genuine feelings of love when she couldn't protect tlj or herself.
How MXTX has sqq deliberately draw parallels between their situation and that of ygy+sj and tlj+sx; desperately wishing it might not be too late for them. The concept of breaking cycles of abuse and harm pervasive throughout the newly devised story, how it evolves for the better only when love takes the place of power, pride, and domination. How the moment sqq chooses vulnerability instead of saving face, the genre shifts to the so-called "cringe" girly genre where most if not every character is more fulfilled, more true to themselves. How the "male-oriented" former genre was aimlessly sensationalized and sexualized, how it was a sustained performance of aspirational toxic masculinity. How men objectify other men without end. All of the unspoken gendered implications that come with that.
Anyways. Going to go put my head in a sandbox and try to process everything I just witnessed because even a second reading is not enough to find a modicum of closure.
#svsss#bingqiu#moshang#i swear to god this series is just 'gay man who doesn't know shit inflicting his delusional reality on everyone else and inciting chaos'#and literally it's slapstick levels of hilarious every single time; mxtx never change#also i fully agree that we did not get NEARLY enough mobei-jun and sqh/airplane content#the amount of mental illness to mental illness communication going on there was astonishing#mobei-jun being afraid of his uncle and bringing sqh because that's the only person he trusts fully (WAILING NOISES)#sqh having a tantrum but running away because for the first time he was honest about his needs + his dissatisfaction with catering to other#how that reflects his narrative compulsions and how he felt forced to warp more creative story paths for the sake of survival as a writer#how sqq's restoration of much of his original intent--as well as mobei-jun's acceptance of his needs--helps airplane begin to heal#how his happiness begins; how just like sqq he wanders in such confusion and denial before he's forced to realize what truly matters to him#SHREK VOICE: STORIES HAVE. L A Y E R S#it feels like modern day shakespeare and when i say that i don't mean it in a hollow elevating sense i mean it more like#mxtx just hits that perfect balance of poignance but also hilarious concentric circles of botched communication and brainworms#okay but real talk for a minute? .........;-;#the way lbh constantly struggles with such a crushing feeling that he'll be abandoned over any little mishap/thing/problem#really hit me where it hurts??? if only because its so clearly an anxiety that stems from original goods' upbringing#the way it becomes even more heartrending when you think back to all the sect leaders clamoring that he should have been killed as an infan#that he should have been aborted as a fetus--insisting right in front of him that his birth was a mistake and a disgrace#over having demon blood in his veins. like my god that scene is so viscerally upsetting i struggle to read it#the way its so easy to see the demons as a manifestation of otherness in precipitated form#how both sqq and sqh are influenced by human rhetoric without evening meaning to--assuming the worst against their better judgment#how both sqq and sqh both struggle with their own otherness in different ways and only find solace when they begin to accept who they are#how their lovers (lbh and mbj respectively) both are willing to navigate those confusing waters with them#how both demons love them as they are--accept them as they are despite how difficult forgiveness of perceived betrayal is for them#ty mxtx for changing my brain chemistry#as i get older i have such a fondness for the messiness of thematic queer self-discovery and growth into self-acceptance#that and how youth can so easily be defined by perfectionistic self-harm and the violence of repression
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skunkes · 4 months
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was abt to make a silly post about how at this point i barter with the universe for a bf like "please id take care of him and walk him and dress him up", like a child begging for a pet, and then i think abt how as much as i want an actual pet I don't think im fit to ever have one of those either
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tianhai03 · 2 years
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another C’s coloring post! my sparda twins body type headcanons but now in Color
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essektheylyss · 10 months
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The problem with reading is that the moment I'm done reading something I get so cocky. I finish a good book, I'm like, "You know, I think I could get through Proust tomorrow." AS IF I WILL EVER GET THROUGH PROUST, TOMORROW OR OTHERWISE.
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sheliesshattered · 1 year
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Jack’s college roommate and best man at our wedding (with whom he keeps in fairly regular contact) just messaged Jack to ask if Mad Mad Fury Road is any good
sir.
sir.
it’s been eight years
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cantofworms · 1 year
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#ok ik all the hot take asks are pre much done and the sparkly say smth nice asks are better but well I’ve been having thoughts all day at#work and want to get them out now so that’s what I’m doing lol#obvs for the past few months i think ppl are vv heavily leaning into the dnf /r and I firmly believe that they aren’t#like yes I enjoy being a multi shipper but I still primarily read dnf fics bc they’re cute dnf writers and artists MWAHH ilysm#but it’s been increasingly annoying how every move dnf make ppl hyper obsess over it and ignore everything else like blog what u want this#is tumblr dot com but I think ppl how only see dnf thro the lens of romantic do much more ‘harm’ than ppl who dont#like the argument about taking validation out of their very REAL amazing friendship just gets over shadowed by omg Dream posted a pic of#geogre they’re in LOVE and sucking and FUCKING every night. like#and then completely disregard when dnf do and say the exact same shit about all their other friends#like dream has explicitly said they aren’t dating (ignore that tho) amd that’s he’s kissed multiple ppl since coming out (ignore that too)#and their friends naturally say that they’re all single (ignore that too) idk man it’s ok they like to pander amd that dream is a toxic#dnfer but it’s all just For Funsies. another thing is ppl CONSTANTLYYYY putting geohres sexuality under a microscope oh he drinks lemonade#from Starbucks he’s soooo gay like dumb shit like that is so irritating#the fact that geogre has never once talked about his sexuality except that one instance where he got a DONO about it proves how much it#just doesn’t matter or apply to the type of content creator he is/wants to be#to be clear if he is or isn’t or dnf every explicitly announce their romantic relationship im gonna be sooooo happy and supportive like aw#dnfogies🫶🏻 but I think there’s a 99.9% chanve that’ll never happen so maybe we should all just care a Little Less and focus on out lgbt#creators if that’s smth u wanna watch/blog about idk maybe I’m just burnt out from the phandom but whyyyyy does is matter what their#sexualities are they play minecraft who cares who CARESSSS idk maybe just having older brothers around dtqk ages has made me realize that#guys will just act homiesexual no matter What#guys are just Like That and tbc I’m not saying that just bc gnf hasn’t made an official coming out doesn’t mean he’s not queer but for the#sake of his contwnt it doesn’t matter either way ? so why are ppl talking about it on the daily idk man it’s just annoying but Oh Well#at the end of the day they’re all famous white guys and nothing matters hurray !!
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saturnsuv · 9 months
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i need opinions on smth rly quick
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POWERFUL
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VALENTINO X DAUGHTER READER
PART 1 (part 2)
Summary: Being Valentino's daughter, you should be used to this, right? You should know him, right? But you really don't.
Genre: Smut, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Psychological
Note: Val is referred to as Daddy throughout, Readers age is not specified
WARNINGS: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Incest, Sexual themes, Sex scene (not involving Val or Reader), Val is an asshole, Val is a psycho, Sexual talk, Non-Con themes,
(SPOILER WARNINGS) Val forces reader to watch sex scene in shoot, Val undresses reader, Val asks reader sexual questions
Let me know if i missed any!
(Partially proof read)
The room is colder than usual, a lot colder. Even with the pink heater right next to your bed you still feel a chill go through your body. You can't even begin to reach out to make the room warmer, hands so shaky and stiff you feel like you'd die of hypothermia if you even tried to adjust the heater. 
So there you lay, wrapped in blankets of silk and soft fur and pink hues. You shiver, you sniffle, you even cry a little. 
Then after what feels like forever, the door to the room opens softly. You can barely peek over the covers, but you do anyway. You see Daddy's figure over the fluffy blanket, walking into the dark room and shrugging off his fur coat. He then flicks on the light switch, causing your eyes to water at the swift adjustment of light. Then Daddy looks over to you, wings floating hypnotizingly behind him like a cape. Every step makes you warmer, wanting to feel your Daddy's warm hand atop your head. 
"Oh my baby, you look so awful!" He gasps, jolting towards you so he can place his hand against your forehead. You feel comfort as you reply with a raspy 'hi'. 
"No, no, no. Baby we must get these blankets off you, you're burning up!" Daddy says, pulling the two thick blankets from your shaky frail body. You whine, trying to pull the blankets to your body again, but Daddy swats your hand away. “No, Baby. You can't have all those blankets on you. You’ll kill yourself, I can't let that happen to my precious girl, hm?” 
“But I'm cold..” you whine, voice crackly and sick as you sink yourself deeper into your pajamas. Daddy flashes a toothy smile, showing his bright golden tooth similar to your own. “I know you’re cold, but if you keep putting those fucking blankets on you you’ll just get more cold,” Daddy says, pushing your arms away from yourself so he can begin to unbutton your pajamas. You gasp, pushing his hand away. 
“What are you doing, dad?” You ask, re-buttoning the button he undid. Daddy pushes you back down to the bed softly, with his large hands against your chest. “Daddy.” he corrects, “I’m taking off these pajamas so you can cool down, doll. You can't be wearing these pajamas.” 
“O-oh.. okay Daddy,” you say, relaxing beneath Daddy’s touch as you watch him unbutton your buttons one by one. There's this weird feeling in your stomach that you can't really pinpoint, but you don't want it to stop either.. Every single button reveals a new patch of skin, a new area to Daddy and you like it. 
Today was the first day you could come with Daddy to one of his shoots, and you couldn't be more excited. Daddy is always open about his job, and sex, and really anything to do with the idea of sex. You've met Angel before, who is the person you’re going to see today in the shoot. Daddy even helped you pick out a good outfit, though most of your wardrobe is courtesy of Velvette. He'd ended up picking a cute dress for you and a fluffy red coat that kind of matches his own. 
“Okay baby, let me remind you that you can't talk during filming, but feel free to ask me any sexy questions you have.” He grins, his gaze dark. “Also don't go anywhere without asking, I don't wanna lose you in the many holes we have in the studio,” Daddy laughs, poking your cheek as he opens the door to the studio, pushing you in with a hand on the small of your back. 
Immediately you’re faced with many pairs of naked breasts and crotches, causing you to flush as you cover your eyes.
“Hello everyone! I apologize for the hold up, I was helping my daughter pick an outfit!” He presents you like a golden prize, though when he looks down at your small figure all he can see is your red face and covered eyes. He leans down to you, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Baby,” he says rather softly, “It's rude not to stare. Take a look around at my sex dungeon! They don't bite~” Daddy assures, watching as you take your hands from your face, looking around with a red face. 
“Okay everyone, let's start from the top, shall we? Do we have everyone?” 
An assistant finds themself at Daddy’s side, tapping his shoulder. He looks down at them, slightly annoyed as he nods.
“Um sir, we’re missing Angel Dust again, he wouldn't pick up the phone and we-” 
“He what? I told him multiple fucking times that today my daughter was coming- and you’re telling me he’s NOT FUCKING HERE!?” Daddy yells, causing you to flinch at his anger. This is usual for Daddy, yes, but he never gets so angry around you. He has tantrums, he yells, he throws things. But never around you. 
Suddenly he looks back to you, leaning down to your level. You can tell he's angry, very fucking angry. But he would never be angry at you. No. Never. 
“Baby, little issue. It appears Angel decided he had better things to do than fucking show up. So I'm just going to step out for a moment, okay? Make yourself comfortable on Daddy's chair for me, alright?” He says, squeezing your cheek as you look up at him with large eyes. You nod, looking over at the chair he's referring to before sitting on it, pulling your knees to your chest immediately as you do. Daddy smiles, patting your head. 
“Good girl,” Daddy purrs, turning around. “I’ll be right back,” he says, before stepping out of the room into a door you don't recognize. 
The chair he told you to sit on is beautiful, looking like a pair of mogh wings similar to the ones daddy has. Though they seem more like butterfly wings, really, up close almost having a regal feeling about it. You can't help but turn around on the chair, sitting on your knees as you drag your hand against the wire framing.
You don't know much about Daddy's job, really. You feel like you do, but you really don't. Being here, in the studio feels so new, despite every single time Daddy has talked about his studio to you. 
And the Daddy you saw today is also different. He is bigger, scarier, more intimidating and regal. Whilst the daddy you know is sweet, fun, cuddly, and soft. It's different, and you’re not sure you like this difference. He can't be like this actually though, right? He's just putting on a mask to keep his employees in line, right? 
Daddy’s chair reminds you of him. It's nice and pretty, and yet thin and odd. You don't understand him, and you like it that way. 
But do you? Do you really like not knowing him? 
You pull your coat tighter on your body, nuzzling into the soft fabric and familiar smell of Daddy’s perfume. You kind of miss Velvette right now. She's like a sister to you. She makes you so many clothes, she goes with you to Cafe’s, and she most of all knows you. 
You realize during this entire time you’ve been in your head Daddy has been outside of the room, and you’ve been in a room with a bunch of naked people. Maybe you could get comfortable with this, comfortable in the studio. 
With a bang of the door against the wall you see daddy stomping into the room, towards where you are currently sitting on your knees the wrong way around on his chair. He looks annoyed, very annoyed. Almost furious. Or he does until he meets eyes with you, immediately looking happy and chipper like he usually does. He smiles at you, before muttering something to his assistant and turning back to you. 
“Okay baby, he’s coming. Just a little miscommunication, he forgot it was today. Even though I told him fucking 100 times-” Daddy’s eye twitches in annoyance, before he remembers who he's talking to and smiles again. “He won't be long,” He says, picking you up effortlessly and sitting down, placing you on his lap. 
“Did you yell at him?” You ask, placing your hands against his broad chest. Daddy looks down, surprised; then he smiles, stroking your hair back and placing his hand on your lower back. “Well I had to, Baby. How else would I get my bitches to behave?” He asks, pulling you closer to him. You frown, looking at the ground. “I dunno.. maybe just be nice to them?” 
Daddy tilts his head, face unreadable. 
“What's that going to do? I don't want a bunch of brats running around my studio, baby. What Daddy does in his work is for a reason, baby. No need to question me, okay?” He says, placing up a figurative wall at the idea of treating his employees with more kindness. You nod, however. He's right, isn't he? You don't know anything about this, maybe you just have to be mean. 
Once again, a loud bang fills the room as a door hits the wall, angel dust running in obviously stressed and anxious. He looks around, before looking at Val and sprinting over. 
“I'm so sorry Val, I completely forgot. It won't happen again, I promise-” Daddy hushes him, a hand firm against your lower back. “Now now, Angel. It's fine. Just go over there and take off your clothes, we’re already behind schedule.” Daddy says, voice rather pensive yet commanding. Angel nods quickly, running over to his dressing room, emerging quickly completely naked. You blush, watching Angel run over to the set butt naked. 
The set is simple, a single couch, coffee table, and background wall with a heart pattern. Daddy said this shoot was about Angel’s Ex breaking in and…  raping him. Daddy said that rape is a very popular genre so he does a lot of them. Yet the idea makes you feel sick. 
“Baby, why so red? I can't have my baby girl be a prude,” Daddy utters, looking down at you through his heart shaped glasses. You shake your head, “No, I'm not.. I’m just not used to all this..” you look around. “Nudity..” You say, looking down at Daddy's hand as it moves to your bare thigh. Your leg tingles from Daddy’s golden claws. 
“Oh don’t worry Baby, you’ll get used to it~” Daddy purrs, leaning down to your ear. “Especially when we get to the fucking,” Daddy chuckles darkly, squeezing your thigh as he looks over to the director and nods. The direction squacks “ACTION!” And the scene begins. Immediately you can tell that Angel does not know how to act very well, but he does a good job nonetheless. 
“Oh no! It's my killer ex! W-what are you.. uh.. doing here!?” Angel yells, covering his bare crotch as his “ex” walks onto camera. He's a big strong guy with broad shoulders and pointy ears, wearing a signature ‘cool guy’ outfit with leather and chains. He grins, walking over to Angel's naked figure. 
“I’m gonna fuck you! Cause I miss you so much-” 
“Oh no! Someone save me!” Angel wails, placing a hand against his forehead as he leans back, as if he's a damsel in distress. Immediately the large man pounces onto Angel, tearing off his pants and shoving his large cock into Angel’s.. ass.. “No one’s saving you!” 
“Daddy,” you whisper, looking up at Daddy with wide eyes. “Yes Baby?” He whispers, thumb pressing into your inner thigh. “This scene is very…” you look over at the set, where Angel is getting railed by the large guy. “Brutal..” Daddy chuckles, placing a hand on your knee and shifting you so you straddle his thigh, facing the scene. “That's the point baby, this is how Daddy makes his money.” 
He places his sharp golden pointer fingers against your cheeks, making sure you face the scene and can't look away. You gulp, feeling a discomfort fill you as you watch the scene. Watch Daddy’s work. 
You feel Daddy's warm breath against your ear, raspy as he whispers, “Does he look like he's enjoying it?” Daddy asks, you answer, “No,” Daddy chuckles, “Good,” you feel his teeth against your ear, sharp and threatening. “Does it look like he's starting to enjoy it?” 
You look at the scene. 
“A little..” 
“Good, does it look sexy?” Daddy asks, closer to your ear than before, you can almost hear every syllable articulated. “...yes?” 
“Good” 
Daddy's hands are tighter on your face, making you look as the big one cums in Angel. 
“Do you like it?” 
You gulp, feeling Daddy's tongue against your ear. He’s just playing, right? 
“Y-yes..?” 
“Good girl,” he moves one hand to your thigh, lowering it so it's on your inner thigh. 
You see Daddy’s glowing pink eyes in the corner of your vision. 
“Are you wet, baby?” 
You gasp, feeling him lick his rough tongue firmly against your ear. 
“Yes,” 
Daddy presses just the knuckle of his pinky finger against your panties. 
“Perfect.” 
“CUT!” 
Daddy’s hands are immediately off of you. You can't see straight, your stomach in shambles. 
“Okay, let's set up the set for the next one!” The director yells. 
You look up at Daddy, who is looking at Angel. 
He was just playing, 
Right? 
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suuho · 3 months
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i can count the days i’ve been physically well in the past 6 months on one hand, and it literally maxes out at 1.5
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