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#I want to be strong and tidy
running-in-the-dark · 2 months
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I don't want to be someone who always just complains (about my body, my brain, my marriage, my family, everything) but I just. can't change the things that bother me. it doesn't get better because I can't make it better no matter how much I tell myself to, I just can't
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giulia-liddell · 10 months
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And for this evening's relaxed family chat we have
- you better start doing something with your life
- if you don't pass all the exams in September you'll have to leave Uni
- no excuses anymore, when I am at work I can't say "sorry I'm tired" so neither can you in your personal life
This surely won't have lasting effects on my anxiety and stress levels
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illycanary · 2 months
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Katara's Story Is A Tragedy and It's Not An Accident
I was a teenaged girl when Avatar: The Last Airbender aired on Nickelodeon—the group that the show’s creators unintentionally hit while they were aiming for the younger, maler demographic. Nevermind that we’re the reason the show’s popularity caught fire and has endured for two decades; we weren’t the audience Mike and Bryan wanted. And by golly, were they going to make sure we knew it. They’ve been making sure we know it with every snide comment and addendum they’ve made to the story for the last twenty years.
For many of us girls who were raised in the nineties and aughts, Katara was a breath of fresh air—a rare opportunity in a media market saturated with boys having grand adventures to see a young woman having her own adventure and expressing the same fears and frustrations we were often made to feel. 
We were told that we could be anything we wanted to be. That we were strong and smart and brimming with potential. That we were just as capable as the boys. That we were our brothers’ equals. But we were also told to wash dishes and fold laundry and tidy around the house while our brothers played outside. We were ignored when our male classmates picked teams for kickball and told to go play with the girls on the swings—the same girls we were taught to deride if we wanted to be taken seriously. We were lectured for the same immaturity that was expected of boys our age and older, and we were told to do better while also being told, “Boys will be boys.” Despite all the platitudes about equality and power, we saw our mothers straining under the weight of carrying both full-time careers and unequally divided family responsibilities. We sensed that we were being groomed for the same future. 
And we saw ourselves in Katara. 
Katara begins as a parentified teenaged girl: forced to take on responsibility for the daily care of people around her—including male figures who are capable of looking after themselves but are allowed to be immature enough to foist such labor onto her. She does thankless work for people who take her contributions for granted. She’s belittled by people who love her, but don’t understand her. She’s isolated from the world and denied opportunities to improve her talents. She's told what emotions she's allowed to feel and when to feel them. In essence, she was living our real-world fear: being trapped in someone else’s narrow, stultifying definition of femininity and motherhood. 
Then we watched Katara go through an incredible journey of self-determination and empowerment. Katara goes from being a powerless, fearful victim to being a protector, healer, advocate, and liberator to others who can’t do those things for themselves (a much truer and more fulfilling definition of nurturing and motherhood). It’s necessary in Katara’s growth cycle that she does this for others first because that is the realm she knows. She is given increasingly significant opportunities to speak up and fight on behalf of others, and that allows her to build those advocacy muscles gradually. But she still holds back her own emotional pain because everyone that she attempts to express such things to proves they either don't want to deal with it or they only want to manipulate her feelings for their own purposes. 
Katara continues to do much of the work we think of as traditionally maternal on behalf of her friends and family over the course of the story, but we do see that scale gradually shift. Sokka takes on more responsibility for managing the group’s supplies, and everyone helps around camp, but Katara continues to be the manager of everyone else’s emotions while simultaneously punching down her own. The scales finally seem to tip when Zuko joins the group. With Zuko, we see someone working alongside Katara doing the same tasks she is doing around camp for the first time. Zuko is also the only person who never expects anything of her and whose emotions she never has to manage because he’s actually more emotionally stable and mature than she is by that point. And then, Katara’s arc culminates in her finally getting the chance to fully seize her power, rewrite the story of the traumatic event that cast her into the role of parentified child, be her own protector, and freely express everything she’s kept locked away for the sake of letting everyone else feel comfortable around her. Then she fights alongside an equal partner she knows she can trust and depend on through the story's climax. And for the first time since her mother’s death, the girl who gives and gives and gives while getting nothing back watches someone sacrifice everything for her. But this time, she’s able to change the ending because her power is fully realized. The cycle was officially broken.
Katara’s character arc was catharsis at every step. If Katara could break the mold and recreate the ideas of womanhood and motherhood in her own image, so could we. We could be powerful. We could care for ourselves AND others when they need us—instead of caring for everyone all the time at our own expense. We could have balanced partnerships with give and take going both ways (“Tui and La, push and pull”), rather than the, “I give, they take,” model we were conditioned to expect. We could fight for and determine our own destiny—after all, wasn’t destiny a core theme of the story?
Yes. Destiny was the theme. But the lesson was that Katara didn’t get to determine hers. 
After Katara achieves her victory and completes her arc, the narrative steps in and smacks her back down to where she started. For reasons that are never explained or justified, Katara rewards the hero by giving into his romantic advances even though he has invalidated her emotions, violated her boundaries, lashed out at her for slights against him she never committed, idealized a false idol of her then browbeat her when she deviated from his narrative, and forced her to carry his emotions and put herself in danger when he willingly fails to control himself—even though he never apologizes, never learns his lesson, and never shows any inclination to do better. 
And do better he does not.
The more we dared to voice our own opinions on a character that was clearly meant to represent us, the more Mike and Bryan punished Katara for it.
Throughout the comics, Katara makes herself smaller and smaller and forfeits all rights to personal actualization and satisfaction in her relationship. She punches her feelings down when her partner neglects her and cries alone as he shows more affection and concern for literally every other girl’s feelings than hers. She becomes cowed by his outbursts and threats of violence. Instead of rising with the moon or resting in the warmth of the sun, she learns to stay in his shadow. She gives up her silly childish dreams of rebuilding her own dying culture’s traditions and advocating for other oppressed groups so that she can fulfill his wishes to rebuild his culture instead—by being his babymaker. Katara gave up everything she cared about and everything she fought to become for the whims of a man-child who never saw her as a person, only a possession.
Then, in her old age, we get to watch the fallout of his neglect—both toward her and her children who did not meet his expectations. By that point, the girl who would never turn her back on anyone who needed her was too far gone to even advocate for her own children in her own home. And even after he’s gone, Katara never dares to define herself again. She remains, for the next twenty-plus years of her life, nothing more than her husband's grieving widow. She was never recognized for her accomplishments, the battles she won, or the people she liberated. Even her own children and grandchildren have all but forgotten her. She ends her story exactly where it began: trapped in someone else’s narrow, stultifying definition of femininity and motherhood.
The story’s theme was destiny, remember? But this story’s target audience was little boys. Zuko gets to determine his own destiny as long as he works hard and earns it. Aang gets his destiny no matter what he does or doesn’t do to earn it. And Katara cannot change the destiny she was assigned by gender at birth, no matter how hard she fights for it or how many times over she earns it. 
Katara is Winston Smith, and the year is 1984. It doesn’t matter how hard you fight or what you accomplish, little girl. Big Brother is too big, too strong, and too powerful. You will never escape. You will never be free. Your victories are meaningless. So stay in your place, do what you’re told, and cry quietly so your tears don’t bother people who matter.
I will never get over it. Because I am Katara. And so are my friends, sisters, daughters, and nieces. But I am not content to live in Bryke's world.
I will never turn my back on people who need me. Including me.
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yeosin-n · 1 month
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unhinged swap on my mind lately hehe o)-( !!!
I wrote out a bit of headcanons for cadet a while back that I’ll just,,,
Likes to play baseball
Likes tacos (not the crunchy kind) with lots of lime
Swapped but .. is still judge…??
He acts like hes not strong and fails at becoming part of royal guard to keep up a facade
Sometimes his mask slips but it’s ok bc no one will believe you <3
Very tolerant most times bc he has his own way to vent…?
Sans doesn't work on machine maybe?
Hands too full so pap does all the nerd stuff instead
Sans goes around helping ppl with chores or whatever, talking to them
Helps keep their hopes up
Hes cheerful outside but once hes home, he deflates
He has to keep other people happy but theres no one to help make him happy ):
Pretends he cant cook
A lot of things about him is a facade
Maybe he likes that ppl try so hard to pretend to like his cooking? He thinks its funny
Makes him a little happier, sees it as a little harmless payment for making everybody else happy all the time
Observant
Doesn't know too much about timelines and resets but pap would talk to him about it ?
Snowdin fight would be with sans if pacifist/neutral (fake fight, for the facade) and with pap if geno (pap asking you to stop)
You still go on date with pap
Doesn't actually want to meet or catch a human
Lets them get away on purpose and is kind of pushing them onto pap.
Sans is tired.
Sometimes he disappears to nap
Needs to recharge after being so extroverted all the time
Sans would often scold pap for not going outside enough
Like he would also want to stay inside all day but that’s not good for your health
Drags pap along so he gets some air from time to time
Sans’ room is tidy enough
Bed and exercise equipment
No need to have a facade at home
Uses pap as an excuse to not have ppl over
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iiping · 10 months
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kaveh snapping at alhaitham for buying another ugly wood carving… except he forgot it was his birthday 👀
read my short fic on twitter here or see more below! 🫶
“This looks absolutely nothing like me!” Kaveh snaps at the rough-out Aranara carving that suddenly shows up one morning, looking so blonde and angry.
Alhaitham comes out of his room at this moment and walks over to their common shelf where the architect stands.
Kaveh has a meeting with a particularly frustrating client today and he’s feeling so anxious that he cannot help but snaps at Alhaitham too, “How many times do I have to tell you not to bring ugly wood carvings into our home!?”
Alhaitham looks at Kaveh, his lips tightens. Something unfathomable flashes across his eyes and disappears just as suddenly.
“Do whatever you want with it then,” Alhaitham says finally after an awkward silence. Then he grabs his key from the shelf and turns his back to walk towards the front door without saying another word.
Kaveh looks at him leaving the house in puzzlement. It is not a rare occasion to see the Scribe not bothering to argue with him but Alhaitham never walks away after saying only one sentence before. He looks as if he’s angry or even…pouting? Kaveh is not sure if that word can describe Alhaitham.
Maybe Kaveh did something wrong? He gasps at the thought.
Is it because the smell of the cream soup he made yesterday was too strong? Or maybe it was the fact that the house is now so messy because he’s in the middle of tidying up things? Or maybe he moved or touched some books he wasn’t supposed to?
Kaveh ends up thinking for the whole day. He even spaces out during the client’s meeting and almost drops the model when he tries to present his plan.
He thinks and thinks but nothing comes to his mind. They have been on unusually pretty good terms lately, so he cannot think of something recent that might have made Alhaitham upset.
Kaveh is so deep in thought he almost bumps into Collei on the way home.
“Ah! Sorry!” Kaveh exclaims then realizes who it is, “Collei! I didn’t know you were in town today!”
Somehow, the trainee Forest Ranger looks shocked to see him. She quickly picks up something that fell to the ground when they bumped into each other earlier. Kaveh catches a glimpse of a small green box with yellow ribbon before Collei swiftly hides it behind her back.
“It’s so good to see you! Wanna grab something to eat?” Kaveh asks, ignoring her suspicious behavior. He’s not ready to go home just yet, not when he still hasn’t figured out what he did wrong.
“Uh, sorry I have somewhere to be today,” Collei replies nervously, avoiding to meeting his eyes, “If you will excuse me, I really need to get going.”
Then she takes off before he can say another word.
Kaveh ruffles his hair in confusion. What is going on today?
After wandering around aimlessly for a while, he decides that he has no other place to go except the good old Lambad’s Tavern.
He sits down at a table and orders a drink even though it’s merely 5PM.
“Hey, Kaveh!” Lambad shouts his name from behind the counter, “That one’s on the house! Happy Birthday!”
Oh. Shit.
A realization strikes him like a bolt of lightning.
“How could I forget!” he cries, standing up abruptly, “It is my birthday!”
He tells Lambad that he’ll take a raincheck on that glass of wine before leaving the tavern. Kaveh rushes home as fast as he can and finds Alhaitham standing in front of the shelf with the Aranara carving on one hand and a bag on another.
Alhaitham raises his eyebrows when he sees Kaveh practically flying from the front door.
“No, wait—-“ Kaveh tries to catch his breath, “D-don’t throw that away!”
“Oh?” Alhaitham puts down the Aranara and turns to face the architect. “Seems like you finally remember something.”
“Sorry for what I said this morning,” Kaveh blurts out, “I know it sounds like an excuse but that client’s project kept me frustrated all night and I shouldn’t have taken it on you.”
Alhaitham looks at him silently.
“Alright, alright,” Kaveh puts two hands in the air, “I apologize for calling it ugly.”
The Scribe lets out a chuckle right this second. It is clear that he does not intend put up any fights with Kaveh on his birthday.
Alhaitham hands him the Aranara in question and asks, “Will you also stop calling my other wood carvings ugly?”
“Well, I wouldn’t go that far,” Kaveh replies with a beaming smile. His eyes light up as he takes the wooden figure in his hands.
Alhaitham gives him birthday presents every year but they are usually books or drafting tools. This is the first time Kaveh has received something custom-made. Well, from anyone, really.
“I don’t know what’s gotten into me this morning,” he mumbles, feeling the rough wood under his fingers. “Sure, it looks a bit cruder than that one in your bedroom which I kind of like, but the more you look at it, the mor—- Hey!”
“I changed my mind,” Alhaitham announces with a straight face, the Aranara is now back to his hand. “I’m taking it back.”
Kaveh blinks.
“What did you just say!?” he raises his voice.
“I don’t see any reasons why it should be in the possession of someone who doesn’t appreciate it,” he replies simply while putting the wooden figure in the bag, then starts to walk to the entrance hall.
“How do you know I don’t appreciate it!?” Kaveh follows him, trying so hard not to yell at his back, “This is ridiculous! You just gave it to me literally a second ago!”
That does not make Alhaitham slow down one bit. In the heat of the moment, Kaveh charges at him without thinking.
Next thing he knows, they are both on the floor with Alhaitham being beneath him. He quickly snatches the bag from the Scribe’s hand and sits up.
“Ha!” Kaveh exclaims, raising it in the air in victory. “You cannot walk away from me this time! Don’t you know that it’s rude to take back what you have given!?”
When there isn’t any response, Kaveh glances down, only to see that Alhaitham is covering his face laughing.
Kaveh looks at this scene in disbelief.
“Were you just teasing me!?” he asks with a high-pitched voice, “Oh my god, who are you? What have you done to my Alhaitham?”
“I couldn’t help,” he is still laughing, “You should’ve seen your face.”
It’s extremely rare for Kaveh to see a silly side of Alhaitham, let alone seeing him laughing like this. Kaveh stares dazedly at him, completely forgetting why he was mad in the first place.
“You can have the Aranara,” Alhaitham says with a smile, “Will you get off me now? Although I don’t really mind—-”
Kaveh interrupts this sentence with a cough, just realizing what a dangerous position they are in. He shifts to move out of the way, but at this moment, a small piece of paper falls of the bag and lands on Alhaitham’s chest.
The Scribe’s eyes widen as he moves to reach for it, but Kaveh is quicker.
Seeing what’s on there, he is speechless.
Alhaitham covers his face again, but his ears are turning visibly red. The worse thing is, Kaveh can also feel his face burning too.
“You carved this,” he asks softly, “for me?”
After a while, Alhaitham admits with a sigh, “Yes.”
Kaveh is dumbfounded. He assumed that it was merely a commission. Never has he ever thought Alhaitham would go that far to do something like this for him.
“That’s why you’ve been coming home late for the past week!” Kaveh just remembers how unusual it was when he said that he needed to work overtime.
“You knowing this wasn’t part of the plan, I was too careless.” he says flatly and decides to pull himself up, unintentionally getting closer to Kaveh. “Now it’s good time for you to forget you have seen that workshop receipt.”
“Nuh-uh,” Kaveh pokes his chest, “This Aranara is now worth a million mora to me.”
“You have just burdened yourself with a new enormous debt then” Alhaitham teases.
“Hey!”
“I think wood craving has grown on me.” Alhaitham smiles, “So I’m afraid you’ll have to put up with these ugly figurines for now.”
“Come on, they are not that ugly,” Kaveh chuckles, “But we do need to set up a proper corner for them so they don’t disrupt the current aesthetic.”
The Scribe can’t help but roll his eyes at this comment.
“Seriously though, thank you” Kaveh softly touches his shoulder and looks directly into his eyes, “It’s the first time someone did something so special for me. I will always treasure it.”
The Scribe stares back at him and without a warning, Alhaitham pulls him into his arms and whispers to his hair, “Happy Birthday, Kaveh.”
After that, Collei, along with Cyno and Tighnari, burst open their front door right when they are still hugging in the hallway. Kaveh’s face turns as red as a tomato as Alhaitham helps him up on his feet.
The night cannot be more perfect. The house is filled with the smell of good food, laughers and joy. His most favorite dishes are laid out on the table and the gifts are waiting for him to open. Wine never tastes better and even Cyno’s jokes are funnier than usual.
Kaveh watches as everyone starts to eat and cheerfully discuss about what games they are going to play tonight. His heart aches a bit thinking of how much he does not want to ever lose this; his friends, his happiness, his home.
And when his eyes accidentally meet with Alhaitham’s, he cannot help but wonder, would things turn out differently if he hadn’t met the Scribe at the tavern that night where he had taken Kaveh in?
He tries harder now to stay happy, to actually listen to some of Alhaitham’s advice, the sensible ones at least.
“Don’t burden yourself with something unnecessary from the past and from the future”, he would say.
So instead of dwelling on the past regrets and unknown future, Kaveh thinks he is ready now to find comfort in the present happiness.
(END)
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altruisticalastor · 1 month
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↳˗ˏˋAlastor x Readerˊˎ˗ ↴
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☒ Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six
☒ Summary: Sure, he owned you. But just because you were contractually obligated to him didn't mean you had to play nice. Alastor couldn't force you to reciprocate those strong desires of love. No matter how hard he tried.
☒ Warnings: fem!reader she/her pronouns used, hurt with comfort! call back to some scenes from part three, crying, hugs, kisses, slight toxic themes, lovesick!alastor, happy ending, different pov's and scene jumps are separated by the boarders to make it easier to follow!
☒ Word Count: 2,672
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You stumbled back to your room with an uneasy feeling pooling in your gut. Alastor wasn't a man who portrayed such extreme emotions the way he just did right before your very eyes. The sight of his smile melting off his face felt immoral. 
Your mind lamented with turmoil. 
Everything Alastor said to you was outlandish, far-fetched. Yet he spoke with such conviction, such desperation. 
This man was nothing more than a stranger to you, yet some of the things he recounted filled in those blanks you harbored through life and death.
You had been drawn to Alastor's voice since day one. Something about him did feel... nostalgic.  
And when you danced, it was effortless.
But could that just be chalked up to a coincidence?
You shook your head to rid yourself of those pestering contemplations. There was no point in dwelling on it now. At the end of the day, Alastor was a ruthless overlord. He wasn't capable of love. 
Sure, he owned you. But just because you were contractually obligated to him didn't mean you had to play nice. Alastor couldn't force you to reciprocate those strong desires of love. 
No matter how hard he tried.
And after the show he put on only moments ago... you felt more terrified of him than ever before. 
There is nothing more merciless than a man crazy in love.
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Alastor stayed up all night mulling over all that transpired. He thought and thought and thought until his mind went numb.
What could he do to make you remember him?
It's not like he could leap back to earth circa 1933 with you and retrace your steps. That world he knew was long gone. 
Love is patient but waits for no one. 
Alastor lifted himself off the carpet on shaky legs. He haphazardly smoothed out his coat and tidied his bowtie. His shadows enveloped him within a moment, ferrying him to the bar located in the foyer. 
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Husk jumped when he heard the radio warble in Alastor's voice. Demanding a tall glass of rye. The fluffy fellow knew better than to involve himself in Alastor's business. Husk poured his boss a fine glass of whiskey before turning his back. Continuing to scrub the pile-up of glasses. 
"Husker. Let's say you wanted somebody to remember something that was once near and dear to their heart. What do you presume would be the best possible antidote to bringing that fond memory back to life?"
Husk turned to face Alastor hesitantly. Taking note of the empty glass sitting in front of The Radio Demon. "Well, shit, I don't really know about that," Husk paused, refilling his Boss' glass. "I mean if I were the one who forgot, I guess a solid reminder of that missing somethin' would get the gears turnin'." 
Alastor's gaze was pointed, crimson eyes swirling with a sadness Husk had never seen from the feared demon. Husk cleared his throat before adding, "Like a photo or... an heirloom? Get what I mean?" 
Husk watched as Alastor's shoulders rose from their slumped position. His cynical grin morphed into something sharper, and his eyes now had that familiar gleam of assuredness. "Husker, my good man! You're not as witless as I thought. Thanks for the perspicuity and rye!" And just like that, The Radio Demon was gone. Whisked away by those ghastly shadows of his. 
Husk wasn't sure what he just unlocked for that evil man, but he hoped that whatever it was, it didn't involve him.
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Husker's words replayed in Alastor's mind.
"A photo or... an heirloom?"
Husker, you mindless genius.
Alastor knew now what the key to unlocking your memories would be. 
And it was in the shape of a heart, threaded on a silver chain with a photo of him and yourself nestled inside.
The locket he gifted you for your one-month anniversary. The treasure that was wrongfully swiped by that bitch, Elaine. 
It was the catalyst for your first murder. The reason you probably sunk to hell, to begin with.
Alastor had no doubt that Elaine burned in hell along with the rest of them. She was a wretched wrongdoer. Now all he needed to do was locate her. 
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Alastor had his fair share of connections in hell. One simple lift of his cane and the miserable sinners were coughing up information. A timid soul mumbled about hearing of an Elaine that fit Alastor's description. Fearfully pointing The Radio Demon in the right direction. 
Alastor chuckled to himself when he realized Elaine was shacked up at Valentino's studio— of all places. He recalls you telling him how Elaine boasted about one day becoming a picture star. 
Guess that little dream of hers came true in the most unconventional fashion. 
Alastor grimaced as the smell of sex and booze wafted past him the moment he stepped foot in the studio. Most of the bystanders turned to get a good look at The Radio Demon. Their pitiful faces were riddled with fear and awe. Probably wondering what an overlord like him was doing in a place like this. 
Alastor scanned the room begrundgly. Scrunching his nose in displeasure from the lewd displays surrounding him. Suddenly, a blonde broad caught his attention. She was sitting across the room, smoking a cigarette in her delicates. Presumably waiting til her shoot began. 
Her features were pouty and more pig than woman, but he was most certain that she was Elaine. 
Alastor approached her without hesitation, slamming his cane harshly against the dirtied floor to grab her attention. "Elaine! Oh, how unpleasant it is to see you again!" Alastor's voice was laced with faux excitement. He crossed an arm behind his back, puffing out his chest with pride. The surly woman glared at him while taking a drag of her cig. "Who the fuck are you?" 
Alastor placed a hand over his chest in mock offense. "How could you forget the face of the man who corroborated your murder? I know you weren't always the brightest bulb in the box, but I mean, come on now, Elaine..." Alastor clicked his tongue in disapproval, relishing in the fear cascading over her face.
"Look, I don't want no trouble, mister." Elaine flicked her cigarette to the side, not caring where it landed, before putting her hands in front of her chest. Her own way of waving the white flag. "Well, that's great news! Because nor do I! However, I do want my darling's locket back."
Alastor's voice became low at the end of his sentence as his irises morphed into radio dials. Elaine leaned back in her chair, trembling like a leaf, as she brought her shaky hands up to her neck. She looped her fingers around the chain adorning her throat, untucking the locket from her delicates. Alastor's eyes widened at the sight of his beloved's heirloom in the hands of this wretch. 
"Look, I didn't mean anything by it when I swiped it from your little princess. I was just jealous, alright? Now, just— take it and go!" She tugged at the chain, breaking the locket off her neck before shoving it in front of herself. Dangling it right before Alastor's very eyes.
Alastor studied the piece of precious metal before flickering his gaze back to the cowering woman. "Tell me this, Elaine. Why did you keep the locket all this time, going so far as to bring it to hell with you after death?" Elaine looked taken aback by the inquiry. She scoffed, face turning red. 
"I wanted her life, okay? She had everything I wanted. The beauty, the brains, the beau. I knew if I had this locket and had it on me always, your little princess wouldn't have been able to find it if she went snooping through my things. If I couldn't have her life— then I had to have something of hers. Something that I knew would devastate her if she lost it." Alastor let out a wicked chuckle from Elaine's confession. He swiped the locket out of her grubby paws. 
"Elaine, you... could never be her. And you are quite lucky that I have better things to do today than waste another second on you. If that wasn't the case, I would have taken great pleasure in killing you myself this time." Alastor turned on his heel, shooting her a hostile glare from over his shoulder before taking his leave. 
"Bye-bye now, Elaine! Glad to see your aspirations of becoming a picture star finally came to fruition for you. Ha HA!"
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The atmosphere in the room shifted the second Alastor stepped past the Hotel threshold. You were at the bar with Angel, having a well-needed drink, when a commotion at the front doors stole your attention. You nearly gave yourself whiplash with how quickly you turned your head in his direction. Already dizzy enough from the alcohol coursing through your bloodstream.
Alastor lit up when your eyes met his. He rushed over to the bar, wasting no time placing his hands on the stool you were perched on. He spun your chair, forcing you to face him, smiling with more excitement than you'd ever seen from him. "Alastor- what the fuck are you doing?" 
You peered up at him, eyebrows knit in annoyance from how he rudely pulled you away from the drink you were nursing. Alastor fell to his knees and leaned forward, face only centimeters from yours. "On our one-month anniversary, I gave you a locket..." Alastor's voice was laced with merriment, and you couldn't help but roll your eyes.
"Not this again- Alastor, please! Give it up." You pleaded, not noticing how Angel and Husk began to back away from the scene. Not wanting any involvement in this lover's quarrel. 
"But your bitch of a friend Elaine stole it from you, and you never ended up getting it back from her." You watched Alastor stuff a hand into his pocket, pulling out a shiny heart-shaped necklace. "So, I took matters into my own hands and got it back for you."
Alastor's free hand reached for yours. He flipped your palm to face the ceiling before placing the locket in your hand. You examined the piece of jewelry carefully, lifting it closer to your face to get a better view. "Open it." Alastor sounded positively impatient with excitement.
You gave him a weary look before thumbing over the clasp that kept the two metal hearts conjoined. You opened it slowly, and your breath hitched from what the tiny heirloom revealed.
It was a photo of a man and a woman. They appeared to be dancing in the photo. Limbs intertwined, both smiling from ear to ear. 
You weren't sure why, but the photo made your heart stutter. And the longer you stared into this moment forever captured in time, the blurrier it appeared. 
The feeling of Alastor's thumbs swiping along your cheeks broke you from your daze on the aged sentimental photo. He cooed at you, with much gentleness pooling in his crimson orbs.
Oh... you were crying? 
Alastor slowly took the locket from your grasp. You watched him expectantly as his hands reached beyond your shoulders, delicately wrapping the chain around your neck. Alastor skillfully clasped the necklace shut, restoring it to its rightful place against your sternum. 
The moment Alastor secured the clasp, you felt a surge of euphoria. A vermillion aura surrounded you, and your heart began to pound fiercely against your ribcage, echoing in your ears. That hole you had in your center for all these years began to flood.
You were motionless as your eyelids fluttered shut. In your mind, your life began to play out before you; like one of those old-timey picture shows. 
Moments from when you were alive and well flickered in your subconscious. All the pleasant memories and promises for the future were with him; With Alastor. 
In a wink, it all came back to you. Every touch, every laugh, every dance- every kiss. A groove in your heart that was wholly irreplaceable; you finally felt it again. 
The tears continued to trickle past your lashline as the sequence of core memories coursed through your head. Distantly, you could hear that familiar radio static hum. 
Your eyes flickered wildly back and forth behind your closed lids as your personalized picture show slowly came to an end. As you flitted yourself back into reality, the radio static warble grew louder. Overpowering the sound of your heartbeat; that thumped in your ears. Unhurriedly, your eyelids fluttered open.
Your world was smiling at you, and you smiled right back. 
"Hi..." You muttered weakly, laughing through the quiet sobs. Alastor continued to thumb away your tears. Crimson orbs softened as they met yours.
"Hello, my darling." His voice sounded better than it did moments before he bestowed the locked upon you. But maybe that's because you finally knew why his voice reminded you of home. 
It was because Alastor was your home.
"You waited for me all this time? Even after I was so cruel to you- why?" You brought your hands up, cupping his cheeks with care. The feeling of his cold skin underneath your fingertips was electrifying. Your body and mind had been deprived of him for far too long; each touch pleasantly overwhelmed your senses.
"Because, my dear, you are everything to me. I would have waited a century more for you if need be. Your cruel behavior only ignited my desire to reclaim your memories further. Nothing you do could ever make me stop loving you."
A lump formed in your throat from his admission. He spoke with such devotion. Alastor gazed at you; as if you hung the stars in the midnight sky. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, sliding yourself off the bar stool. Opting to find comfort beneath Alastor's embrace.
He wasted no time pulling you into his chest, cradling you in his arms as your knees collided with the floor. Alastor nestled his nose into the crook of your neck, and you could feel his smile against your skin. "Oh, how good it is to be home." He mumbled against the base of your throat. 
You pulled back to admire his countenance, arms still weaved around his shoulders. Alastor's eyes flickered from yours to your lips. You took the hint, bearing the initiative in closing the gap. You felt heat surge through your chest when your lips touched his. Alastor's mouth moved in tandem with yours. The kiss was tender and needy; as if it was the first and last embrace you ever shared. 
Alastor's hands explored lower. Large palms smoothing down the sides of your arms, then your waist. Only pausing in his exploration when his hands met your hips. Alastor squeezed them firmly, pulling your body flush against his as he deepened the kiss. Your body felt light and airy, and it wasn't from the alcohol you indulged in tonight. 
The kiss felt like it lasted for an eternity. You only pulled away from your lover when your lungs began to scream for air. "I'll never let you out of my grasp ever again. I plan to keep you close for the rest of eternity. Just as I planned all along, my darling." Your heart lodged itself in your throat from his words. You nodded fervently in agreement as a chuckle escaped you.
"I'll hold you to it, my love." Alastor's grin softened the longer he gazed into your eyes. Slowly, he rose to his feet, lifting you to yours by the grasp he had on your hips. You let out a gasp as Alastor hooked his arms under your thighs, lifting you off the ground. He held you bridal-style, making quick strides through the foyer and up the stairs. 
"Al! What are you doing?" You giggled, holding onto his shoulders tightly as he skipped two steps at a time, all thanks to his long legs. You admired his visage from this angle, enjoying the cheerful glint that swirled in his eyes. "Taking us somewhere more private, darling. We have a lot of lost time to make up for!"
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yall want smut for the next part or..............
tags; @danveration @celestial-vomit @jyoongim @stygianoir @polytheatrix @mmik3yy @littlebullofblythe @cxrsedwxrlds @lillithhearts @nogiggleonlybitter @minniemumbles @chewbrry @lbcreations-blog @nonetheartist @call-me-nyxx @zombiesnips-blog @stawberrypimpsimp @wonderlandangelsposts @villxinmiixx @persephoneblck @maxlynn17 @littledolly2345 @karolinda007-blog @falling-endlessly @greekyoghurtwithberries @bladeismine @aloraaaxcrystalzx @doctorswife221b @scaramoochiie @fairyv-ice @chirikoheina @veroneverleft @tired-of-life-86 @saccharine-nectarine @c-thegingergirl @tsunaki @geminixbunny @softangxlicss @alleystore @sirens-and-moonflowers @fairyv-ice @honey132 @alastorsaries @zenix108 @michi-keinz @fokrilove @yourdoorisunlocked @willowshadenox @izakyun @fangirlbitch02 @kyana-chan @aquariaries @sincerely-lorely @maxlynn17 @ivebeenthearchersstuff @kurinhimenezu @memospacexx @night-shadowblood-writes2 @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 @uhhhimbored @chaotic-smol @shoyosdoll @alitaar @resident-cryptid @nijiru @sunshinesetsstuff @toby33b @th3casscad3
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theambitiouswoman · 9 months
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Questions To Ask Yourself If You Want To Become The Best Version of Yourself
What do I really care about? What things are really important to me?
What am I good at, and where do I need help? What am I strong in, and what could I get better at?
What do I want to achieve soon and later? What things do I want to do soon, and what are my bigger, long-term goals?
Am I trying new things and not just staying comfy? Am I doing things that might be a bit scary but good for me?
How do I deal with problems and when things go wrong? What do I do when stuff doesn't work out?
Am I nice to myself when things don't go well? Do I treat myself kindly, especially when things are tough?
How do I use my time, and what's most important? How do I plan my day, and what things matter the most?
Am I learning new stuff regularly? Do I keep finding out new things?
Do I have a good balance between work and fun? Do I make sure to have enough time for work and for things I enjoy?
Do I have good friendships and avoid bad ones? Am I friends with people who make me feel good?
Do I take care of my body? Am I eating well, exercising, and sleeping enough?
Do I think about my feelings and thoughts? Do I pay attention to how I'm feeling and what I'm thinking?
How do I deal with stress and make myself calm? What do I do when I'm stressed out?
Do I help others and make the world better? Do I do things to make people's lives nicer?
Do I have good habits and get rid of bad ones? Are there things I do every day that are good for me? Are there things I should stop doing?
Do I learn from what people say about me? When people give me advice, do I listen and try to get better?
Do I say no when I need to? Do I tell people when I need space or when something isn't okay for me?
What makes me really happy? What do I like to do that makes me feel great?
Do I use money wisely? Am I good at saving and spending money in smart ways?
Do I believe I can improve and get better? When things are tough, do I think I can get through them and learn something?Am I being kind to others and making them feel good? Do I treat people nicely and make them happy?
Do I learn from things I do wrong? When I make a mistake, do I figure out how to do better next time?
Do I try new things, even if they scare me a little? Do I give things a shot, even if they seem a bit scary?
Am I spending time with people who care about me? Do I hang out with folks who like me for who I am?
Do I eat healthy foods and move my body? Am I eating good stuff and getting some exercise?
Am I sharing and helping others when I can? Do I give stuff to others and lend a hand when I'm able to?
Am I paying attention when people talk to me? Do I really listen when others are speaking to me?
Do I take breaks and do things I enjoy? Do I give myself time to rest and do things I like?
Do I say sorry and make up if I hurt someone? When I make someone feel bad, do I apologize and try to make things better?
Do I imagine good things for myself in the future? Do I think about cool stuff I want to do?
Do I stop and relax when I'm feeling stressed? When I'm worried, do I take a moment to calm down?
Do I ask for help when I need it? Do I tell someone when I can't do something on my own?
Do I try my best, even when things are tricky? Even if it's hard, do I give it my all?
Do I pick up after myself and keep things tidy? Am I good at cleaning up and keeping things in order?
Do I use my time for things that matter most? Do I do important stuff before other things?
Do I think about good things that happened today? Do I remember all the nice things that occurred?
Am I okay with making mistakes and learning from them? Do I know it's okay to mess up sometimes and learn from it?
Do I show appreciation for the people around me? Do I let others know I'm thankful for them?
Do I take deep breaths and relax when I'm upset? When I'm mad, do I breathe and try to calm down?
Do I believe I can do better and keep growing? Do I think I can get better at things and keep getting smarter?
Am I happy with who I am right now? Do I like myself just as I am?
Do I feel okay when things don't go as planned? When stuff doesn't work out, do I stay calm?
Do I think about good things about myself? Do I focus on the nice parts of me?
Do I let go of things that make me sad? When something makes me upset, can I move on from it?
Do I notice when I'm feeling worried or scared? Am I aware of when I'm feeling nervous or frightened?
Do I believe I can do things even if they're tough? Can I do hard things if I try?
Do I try to make my mind peaceful? Do I relax my thoughts when they're racing?
Do I find things that make me feel relaxed? What can I do to feel calm and at ease?
Am I patient when things take time? Can I wait without getting upset?
Do I talk kindly to myself in my head? Do I say nice things to myself in my mind?
Am I curious about things and want to learn? Do I like to find out new stuff?
Do I think about good times and happy memories? Do I remember fun things that happened before?
Do I try to understand how others feel? Can I tell what others are feeling?
Do I imagine nice things happening in the future? Can I think about good stuff that might come?
Do I take time to rest and be by myself? Do I give myself breaks and quiet time?
Do I let go of things I can't change? Can I forget about things I can't do anything about?
Do I believe I can do things even if I don't know how yet? Do I think I can learn new things?
Do I tell myself I'm doing a good job? Do I give myself a pat on the back?
Do I stay calm even if things are really busy? Can I be relaxed even when things are crazy?
Do I know that I can make mistakes and it's okay? Do I understand that everyone messes up sometimes?
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ryukatters · 5 months
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it's your fault for loving me — y. okkotsu ⁺˚⋆。°✩
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⟡ pairing: yuuta okkotsu x fem!reader
⟡ cw: /DARK CONTENT, /yandere! yuuta, /dubcon, /NONCON, ex-bf!yuuta, stalking, he breaks into your apartment, he /manhandles you (he’s strong), /implied babytrapping, /possessiveness, MINORS DNI
⟡ wc: 2.9k (someone sedate me)
⟡ song inspo: language by brent faiyaz
⟡ summary: Your ex boyfriend breaks into your apartment. What do you mean he needs to leave? He’s staying right here.
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The slow, muffled drag of your feet ricochet off the hallway walls as you trudge along to your apartment. You fumble with your keys for a little bit, but find no resistance as you insert it into the slot. 
“Huh, that’s odd…I could’ve sworn I locked it.”
You chalk it up to exhaustion. You're only practically ever home to sleep due to the way you've been throwing yourself onto mission after mission. Even now, sleep is a luxury you can barely afford. You kick off your shoes lazily, not bothering putting them in their rightful place on the shoe rack. 
Maybe before, you would have cared more about keeping the house tidy. Or maybe before, your loving boyfriend would pamper and coddle you the minute you opened the front door, so you never had to worry about the little details like putting your shoes in the right place.
You were exhausted. 
You wanted nothing more than to wash up and plop down onto your soft, soft bed. You don’t even make it to your bedroom door before you pause, anxiety prickling your nerves. 
You sense him before you see him. Yuuta’s cursed energy has always had a tendency to seep out whenever he was around you. Whether it’s a testament to how he’s able to fully relax in your presence or a display of raw power, you’re not sure. 
"You're home," a certain black-haired sorcerer chirps. "How was your mission?"
In the past, simply hearing Yuuta’s voice would be enough to melt away the pent up stress from a hard day of exorcizing curses. It’d soothe your aching muscles and tired soul as you let yourself be enveloped by the weight of his affection. But right now, it did everything except that. 
The shiver of excitement that used to run down your spine is replaced by trepidation caused by the only person who used to be able to comfort you. 
You know better than to ask how he knew you were on a mission, much less ask how he managed to break into your apartment. It seems he's been in here for a while, with the way he seems to have made himself at home on your bed, much like the way he used to before. 
"Why are you here?"
The question makes him sit up. 
“Because I missed you. Is that so bad?”
You want to laugh. The whole situation is all sorts of fucked up, and the two of you are talking about it the same way one would the weather.
“Yuuta, we broke up 2 months ago,” you press, vexation lacing your words. You could never imagine yourself using that tone on him. Yuuta’s always been so meticulous in loving you, in making sure you were happy.  He’s never given you a reason to be upset with him. But that was then, and this was now. 
You could say whatever you wanted to say. You were tired and definitely not in the mood to deal with a supposed burglar that happens to be in the form of your ex-boyfriend.
“I don’t remember agreeing to that,” he says simply.
“You walked out on me!”
“Because I thought you needed some space. And now I’m back. But I never said we were breaking up.” 
Space was an extremely generous term for what Yuuta gave you. If you could consider watching your every move from a distance, keeping tabs on who you talk to, and making sure you stay out of trouble secretly, “space.” He would never let you know that though. It’s too much, too soon.
He couldn't help it, not when his precious baby could get hurt. He’d never forgive himself if that happened.
“Come and sit, my love. You look so tired.” He pats the space next to him. You will your heart not to flutter at the familiar nickname. 
Your body moves before your brain can catch up. It’s almost like listening to him was muscle memory. You pause in your step, cross your arms, and glare at him. 
“Leave, Yuuta. I don’t want to see you.” The words rise from the very depths of your soul and spill out of your mouth like bile, burning and spiteful. It hurts to speak to him like this, even after he’d abandoned you with no hopes of return. 
“Sit, love.” A little more demanding this time. “I’m not repeating myself again.” 
The tension in the air is palpable, so thick you can cut it with a knife.
You take a seat. Yuuta doesn’t miss a beat before he has his hands on you. 
“Missed you,” his hand reaches out to cup your jaw, thumb rubbing against the plushness of your cheek. 
You’ve always been so soft, it’s one of the things Yuuta loves the most about you. 
You flinch. Blame it on the adrenaline coursing through your body like wildfire. Your fight or flight response is shot. Yuuta’s touch seems to rewrite everything that’s been hardwired into your brain. 
He presses a chaste kiss to your temple, before moving down to kiss the tip of your nose, and both of your cheeks. Each press of his lips leaves feels like it’s being seared into your flesh, a metaphorical branding iron of sorts— to show that you’re Yuuta’s and Yuuta’s only. 
Your mind goes blank when he sucks a kiss into the side of your neck, whimpering pathetically as he grazes his teeth along the sensitive skin. 
“We can’t do this,” you assert, but the words get stuck in your throat, so it comes out more as a whiny sigh. Your body seems to have a tendency to betray you when it comes to him.
“But we can,” Yuuta coos, pushing you down until your back is flat against the mattress. He takes both of your hands in his, lifting them up until they’re above your head, effectively pinning you in place. “We’re doing it right now, aren’t we?” 
Yuuta can appear pretty unassuming to outsiders. He’s quiet, reserved, almost meek. If one were to take a closer look, however, they’d realize that beneath that unostentatious front was a more commanding aura, one that forces you to submit to his whims with his sweet tongue and sensuous touches. Perfectly calculated, perfectly executed. 
"I fucking hate you,” you spit, thrashing against his hold, but to no avail. 
"No you don't,” Yuuta shuts you down with conviction. Like it’s the absolute truth— the kind that can’t be twisted or broken. It almost feels like he’s chastising you for thinking otherwise. “Take that back right now.”
To be honest, hearing those words stung more than any physical blow you could have ever landed on him. Has he not shown you enough love? Or have you already forgotten? 
Isn’t what you have pure love? 
A hand wraps around your neck, lithe fingers inching up before they grip your jaw, forcing you to look at him.  “I said,” blunt fingernails digging into your skin, “take it back.”
You sputter out an apology with teary eyes, an odd mix of humiliation and regret seeping into your bones, stomach swirling with shame and to your horror, a tinge of anticipation. 
It’s pathetic, really, how easily you give in. 
“Now give me a kiss, sweetheart.” Yuuta bridges the gap between the two of you. He presses his already throbbing bulge against your clothed pussy, moaning into your mouth appreciatively.
You feel so dizzy you think you might explode. 
Yuuta makes quick work of the buttons on your uniform, releasing your wrists so he can throw the offending garment and all your underthings beneath it to some random corner of the room. 
Calloused hands roam your body, squeezing and groping, as if to map out the cartography of your flesh, committing each peak and valley to memory. He watches in fascination how your skin bristles with goosebumps in the wake of his touch. 
He ignores your pleading cries and attempts to push him off. Yuuta is being driven by pure instinct alone. That sick, twisted voice in his head that he’s always tried to suppress whispers. It goads him on to take what he wants, to make sure you remember that you’re his, and his alone. 
He knows that you haven’t been seeing anyone. You were always so loyal, even when you were upset with him. Anyone who did try was taken care of the minute they left your sight. 
It’s been far too long since he’s had you. His desire fills him with a sort of quiet rage, one that metamorphoses into something darker, more sinister and morose the longer he goes without you. Almost like a curse that’s gone far too long without feeding. 
Yuuta Okkotsu loves you to the point of madness.
He thinks he might literally implode in on himself any second longer without you.
It’s almost laughable how different the two of you are. An ethereal beauty too good for this world, yet here you were in between the legs of a cursed man with too much love than he knows what to do with. 
“Yuuta, please,” you cry out. You flail your legs in an attempt to kick Yuuta off. He catches both with ease, throwing them over his shoulder to slide your bottoms off, leaving you completely bare. 
He can’t suppress the groan that tumbles past his lips. You’re even more beautiful than he remembers. 
You’re dewy eyed and gasping, nails clawing at his forearms and beating at his chest in a last ditch effort to stand your ground. Nothing can deter him. 
Yuuta could easily heal himself if he wanted to. But the angry red welts and blossoming hues of purple on his pale skin are a badge of honor of the utmost prestige. It’s undeniable proof that you’re real, that his love for you isn’t just a fragment of his imagination, and that none of this was just some pipe dream. He could take a little pain if that meant you got to be his. 
He’s always been yours without any reservations. 
“You can cry if you want, if it helps,” he says genuinely, but the gleam in his eyes shifts into something predatory. “But you should know you’re really fucking wet.” As if to prove a point, he slowly fucks his middle finger into your weeping hole, then his index, then his ring. They curl up to rub against that spongy spot just the way you like. 
You let out a sharp gasp, spine arching off the mattress. 
You tried to ignore him—detach yourself from the whole situation, let him get his fill, and be done with this whole ordeal. But it’s Yuuta— the man has a grasp on both the corporal and spiritual parts of you that you can’t bring yourself to understand. It seems like he knows you better than you know yourself sometimes. And right now, he’s managed to make a home in all five of your senses. There’s no escape. He's made sure of that. 
He pulls out his fingers with a lewd squelch. A clear sheen of liquid coats every digit, stringy as he parts them to show you. He smiles knowingly.
“You keep fighting me, but it turns out you want it after all, sweetheart.” 
Your cheeks burn in humiliation. Whether it’s from the situation at hand or the truth behind his words, you’re not too sure. 
“Don’t you know?” Yuuta rasps, fingers going back to work their way inside you rhythmically, bringing you closer and closer to the precipice, paying special attention to how you try to mask how your face contorts in pleasure. 
He presses his forehead against yours, willing you to look at him wordlessly. “I know what’s best for you. I know what you want. And right now, this little pussy wants to be fucked. Isn’t that right, my love?” 
He’s met with a breathless moan. You’re so close. Tears threaten to fall as your chest heaves in exertion, trying not to teeter off the edge too soon. 
You look so pathetic it’s insane. Yuuta swears he can feel his mouth water in anticipation for what’s bound to come next. He thrusts his fingers with calculating speed and precision, the heel of his palm slapping against your neglected clit just right. 
He leans down right when you cum, lips catching yours as you moan into his mouth. Satisfaction swells in his chest as your slick drips down his wrist. 
“You’re ready.” 
Yuuta unbuttons his pants, pulling it down just enough for his cock to spring free, tip slapping his abdomen as it leaks with precum. He fists it, jerking his hand up and down his length. He slaps it against your clit once, twice, and a third time before he slips it inside your weeping hole. 
Your walls spasm around his cock to accommodate his sheer size and girth, struggling a bit more than usual. You feel so full. It’s been far too long since he’s fucked you. You claw at his lower abdomen, trying to make space between the two of you. It’s all too much, all at once. Yuuta won’t have it. He slips his hands under your sweaty thighs, pinning your ankles on either side of your head, effectively folding you in half. You cry out at the stretch.
“Always take me so well, angel.” 
He sets a steady pace, dragging his cock in, pulling out, and then back in with an absurd amount of force. The sound of skin on skin ricochets against your bedroom walls like a sort of cacophonous symphony. You don’t get the luxury of the sweet, slow thrusts he usually blesses you with, while he coos about how good you are for him. 
“Where’s all that attitude from earlier? Am I making you feel that good?” 
You glower, refusing to acknowledge the fact that your body betrays your mind— that Yuuta’s bringing you closer and closer to nirvana the further he drags you down into hell. 
He slides his hand down your tummy, rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts.
“Yuuta—!” You clench around his length, hurtling towards your second orgasm quickly. 
“You’re so greedy. Cumming again already?” 
He’s met with silence. He’ll forgive your transgressions this time around. He’ll just have to teach you how to be his good girl again. 
A particularly rough thrust has you choking back a moan.
“Thought so. Cum for me, sweetheart.”
Your peak hits you like a crashing wave. Your body tenses, leaving you gasping for air as you clench around Yuuta’s cock. You cry out deliriously, falling apart as Yuuta continues to pound into you. It’s too much, but you can’t pull away even if you tried. You’re stuck.
“I’m the only one that can make you feel this way, understand?” He grits his teeth, staving off his release just a little longer. He fucks you through your orgasm thoroughly as he chases his own. 
He presses all of his body weight on top of you, your legs on either side of his head as he folds you into a mating press. He groans at the change in position, allowing him to fuck into you even deeper. 
Realization cuts through your cloudy judgment like a sword. 
“Yuuta— Yuuta, please. Pull out–!” 
Your pleas fall on deaf ears. He’s rambling now, intoxicated by all you have to offer, yet you’re the one paying the price. The effects of overstimulation are taking over now, your body twitching involuntarily with each thrust. 
“I’m not leaving you, ever. It’s just you and me.” 
You shake your head in objection, mind too hazy to voice out any resistance. Tears well up, threatening to spill from your lash line. 
Yuuta nods with a grin, canines glinting, just like a predator that’s caught its prey. “It’s true, sweetheart. I’ll make sure of it. Say I’m it for you. That I’m the only one.” 
“Say it.” 
“You’re it for me, Yu. The only one.” You babble, tears streaming freely now. 
You feel the moment he reaches his plateau— the way his dick twitches inside of you right before your walls are being painted white with splashes of Yuuta’s hot cum. 
Your fate’s been sealed. 
He fucks into you a few more times, heavy balls slapping against your ass as he rides out his orgasm. A white ring wraps around the base of his cock, the copious amounts of seed he’s poured into you threatening to leak out. 
Yuuta doesn’t bother pulling out. In a quick show of dexterity and freak strength, he manages to flip the both of you so that your positions are switched, with you lying on top of Yuuta’s chest. The steady beat of his heart fills your mind. 
Your entire body is on fire. You feel numb. You let yourself be carried away by the prospect of sleep, hoping that you’ll wake up to find that this was all just some wild fragment of your imagination.  
He presses a hand against your head, like he was afraid you’d pull away and ruin whatever fantasy he’s deluded himself into believing. 
The simple truth is– Yuuta Okkotsu loves you. And he’ll do whatever it takes to make sure that no one else gets in the way of that. 
He runs his hand up and down your bare back lovingly, admiring your spent form. You’ve always been so soft. So pliant, so willing to give in to his desires. 
It’s the thing that Yuuta loves most about you. 
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a/n: i had to reupload bc this hellsite sucks. hopefully this shows up in the tags now
tagging @princess-okkotsu again hehe
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rottenblur · 4 months
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Post workout pump|A.ANDERSON
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Abby x fem reader 2.3k
Summary: Your gym rat Tinder date isn’t one to not kiss on the first date, a coffee date is much more interesting with her.
WARNINGS: public shit, public fingering??? Dirty talk, Abby being bold as hell, head!! Fingering, quick mention of that liquor. Fucking on the first date.
Abby’s Tinder profile was simple, a couple of gym rat pictures, and a couple cute candid ones someone had taken of her with a background of beautiful scenery. The one that made you swipe on her was a picture of her smiling in the forest, normally you wouldn’t go for “outdoorsy” people, you wanted someone you could comfortably rot away with.
It was her fucking smile. The way that her hair practically glowed in the sunlight peaking through the trees, how her freckles complimented every feature on her face. It wasn’t just her looks though, you weren’t that shallow. Her bio was simple, simple in a way it didn’t seem like she was faking it for people to like her.
“Will fight for you.” And you believed it with every inch of your body, she looked like fought off bears for a living. She could break you in half, part of you wanted her to.
Your conversation on the app was short, you gave her your number pretty fast, I mean she asked for it.
You got a text from a random number quickly after you gave it to her.
(7xx) 8xx-6xxx: Hey beautiful.
You replied quickly.
You: Hey.. this abby?
The typing bubbles popped up immediately, she responded fast and used punctuation, which was rare. In your experience, and probably rare to everyone on dating apps. To be honest, this was your first time on a dating app, you had too much on your plate to even think about dating since high school.
Abby: [IMAGE ATTACHED]
Abby: Sure is.
The picture was a live photo in a gym mirror, she had dumbbells resting by her feet, her body covered in a tank top and loose basketball shorts. Her muscles were huge, you didn’t think someone could be that strong, the sweat making them shiny didn’t help how hard you were staring right now.
You: oh my god…
That’s all you can get out, you have no thoughts.
You: i’m blushing
You throw your phone, you’ve only been talking to her for maybe an hour and yet she already has you wrapped around her finger.
The text bubbles pop up, she’s typing.
Abby: Aw, such a sweet girl, already blushing for me.
If you weren’t blushing before, you were now. You couldn’t stand another minute not being with her.
You: are you busy today? I need to see you
Text bubbles pop up, then disappear, come back then disappear again. Read, for ten minutes. Were you moving too fast? You put your phone down, tidying up your room to distract yourself from the stress. You get into the shower, your phone on the sink counter for music. You wash your hair when your phone starts ringing, fuck.
You grab the towel hanging up, drying off your hands and step out of the shower to pick up your phone, it’s her. You press the green accept button and put the phone up to your ear, pushing your wet hair out of the way.
“Hey.” She says. Her voice, oh my fuck, her voice. It was gentle but so heavy with intent, she sounded like she only spoke if she meant it.
“Hi.” You respond back, wrapping the towel around your body and stepping out of the bathroom to make sure she heard you well.
“God, you sound adorable. I’m not busy, just at the gym right now but I’m free in thirty minutes if you wanna go for coffee.” She says, you can hear the dumb bells banging in the back now.
Your mouth falls open, she really wants to see you? A date? Today? You forget to speak.
“Yeah, yeah please. Where to?” You respond back.
You hear her laugh slightly, then take a breath. “I’ll text you the address beautiful, you’ll like it I know you will.” God people making decisions for you was suddenly so hot.
You agree and giggle, uncontrollably. “Bye bye.”
“See ya.” She says then hangs up. Fuck you were nervous.
You get a text from her, the address was a small locally owned coffee shop just down the street from you, maybe she lived close. Surprisingly you had never been there before, maybe you could have met her sooner if you stepped out of your comfort zone more often, you would have met her sooner.
Twenty minutes had passed, you got back into the shower, finishing it and getting ready. Drying your hair and throwing on a cute fitting outfit, something easy, or just easy access, hey you weren’t against doing stuff on the first date, especially not with her.
You walk to the coffee shop, texting her when you arrive at the front doors, her assuring you she was already there. She was early, you liked that.
You walk inside and that's when you see her. She was in the back, in a booth manspreading under dimly lit lights. You walk over towards her, her hands set on the table, fiddling with a stir stick. She looks up and sees you, her blue eyes light up. She stands up, she towers over you. You look up at her, her freckles are even cuter in person.
“Hey beautiful, you look you know..beautiful.” She says looking you up and down. You smile at her muttering a greeting back. You were almost shaking, she was perfect, everything you could have ever wanted.
“You want a drink? I’ll order, just finished mine.” She says, placing a hand on your upper arm, it engulfed your arm in full. You nod and tell her your order. She smiles at you and walks off to order, you sit down scooting to the inside. A one-sided booth, leaving no choice but to sit right next to her, her boldness was attractive.
She comes back, placing your drink on the table in front of you, scooting herself right next to you placing hers next to yours. You pick up your drink taking a sip, as she lays her arm on the booth behind your back spreading her legs, getting comfortable. “Was that picture from today?” You refer to the picture she sent you earlier. She nods turning her head to look at you.
Her strawberry blond hair slightly damp presumably from a shower, her blue t-shirt clung to her arms, her jeans tight to her legs. God.
“You like what you see?” She says tilting her head at you, looking you up and down in return. You nod shyly looking away as you fiddle with the end of your skirt. She catches that, flicking your hands away, replacing them with hers. “You wear this for me? I like it, looks really good on you sweetheart.”
God the pet name, her hands on you, on your clothes. Her compliments, she has you melting. “I wore it for you Abby.” You say looking at her, she looks up from your legs to your eyes. She smiles, rubbing your cheeks, keeping one hand on your thigh. “God you’re adorable, I got you blushing already.” She takes her hand off your cheek and takes a sip of her drink.
“What made you want to talk to me?” She says as she rubs her thumb on your engulfed thigh. You’re fighting to not squeeze your thighs together. You look at her lips, and her eyes then respond. “You’re pretty, I mean you’re hot, you’re intimidating it’s attractive.” You say. She nods, humming a response to you.
“Well, I thought about how fucking cute you’d look with my head between your thighs.” She said it so innocently, her hand moving up under your skirt, you couldn’t handle it your trap her hand by squeezing your thighs together.
She clicks her tongue at you tapping your thigh with her free thumb for you to open your legs. You submit to her order, opening your legs for her. Her finger grazes your clothed clit, your panties wet from her teasing. You look at her and finally respond. “I’d like that, alot.” Your cheeks were burning up, your whole body was burning up with need.
She leans in closer to you, whispering into your ear. “You’re so perfect, so fucking ready for me, so beautiful.” A whine falls out of your mouth, uncontrollably. Her fingers continue dancing from your clit to your slit, teasing you no, torturing you.
You place one elbow on the table, the other gripping Abby’s thigh, you were dripping onto your skirt it was unbearable. You finally mutter out exactly what you need to say.
“I need you Abby, I need you.” You say. She pulls her hand away, awwing in response, turning your head towards hers with a grip on your chin. She smiles and shakes her head. “Ask nicely beautiful.” You lick your lips and nod. “I need you please, please Abby.
She lets go of your face, standing up and holding out a hand for you, you take it letting her pull you up out of the booth. Your legs were weak, even trembling, she noticed this and smirked at you.
She drove the two of you to her apartment, so fucking close to yours, her hand on your thigh the whole way there, her glances never made you blush any less each time. She parks her car and guides you up to her apartment with your hand clutched all the way there.
She unlocks her door, leading you in first, she walks in behind you, and kicks off her shoes. She grabs you, pushing you against the door connecting your lips with hers, locking the door with one hand, the other wrapped around your waist.
She pulls away, looking at you with those lustful blue eyes, they looked much brighter when you first met her but now there's nothing darker. She locks lips with you picking you up and carrying you towards her bedroom, her hands full of ass.
She’s mirroring your whimpers into the kiss with grunts, your arms wrapped around her neck. As she enters the bedroom with your legs wrapped around her, you fiddle with her braid, undoing it and running your fingers through the loose strands.
She throws you down onto the bed, the plush duvet sinking behind your back. Your quick breaths are loud in the quiet room, Abby stares are you eating you up with her eyes. “What do you want beautiful?” she says to you, stripping her jeans off revealing her grey boxer briefs, a wet spot that catches your eye. Apparently, you're not the only one worked up.
When you don't respond she hums a “hmm?” to you pulling you from your thoughts. “I want you, I want to feel you everywhere Abby.” A quiet grunt comes from the back of her throat. She leans to you, putting her knees on the bed and caging you in with her arms. She kisses you, her tongue tangled with yours. She pulls away to strip her shirt from her body, tossing it aside.
You admire her body, stripped from her tight t-shirt her muscles look even bigger. She places your hands on her shoulders pulling your shirt off. She leans down to unhook your bra and kisses you.
She scans your body, her eyes make you want her even more. She kisses your lips, pushing her knee in between your thighs applying the perfect amount of friction as she moves to make out with you.
She kisses down your bare chest sucking purple spots all the way down your stomach, your neck to your hips littered in hickeys. “So fucking good for me.” She mutters out as she flips the hem of your skirt up onto your stomach. She kisses the inside of your thighs, whines and whimpers falling out of your mouth with need.
She leaves marks leading up to your panties, now even wetter with want. She pushes them to the side, taking a quick lick and sucking on your clit then looking up at you. Her eyes, her face from the angle could make you cum right there and then.
“You taste so fucking good beautiful.” You were melting. She attaches her mouth back to your clit spiralling circles with her tongue, holding your hips down with one hand.
She rubs your hip as you fight to ride her face, take control. She sucks your clit and pushes two fingers inside, filling you so well. Her fingers found places inside you, you never knew existed.
Her tongue quickens it's pace as so does her fingers pumping in and out of you. Moans fall from the back of your throat, you can hear Abby’s grunts vibrating against your clit.
She disconnects her mouth, pumping and curling her fingers to the perfect spot at a brutal pace, she looks up at you, arched back gripping the blanket. “Such a good fucking girl.” Her praises push you over the edge. She connects her lips back pulling you quickly to your climax. You look down to her, as your thoughts dissapear.
You pulse all over her fingers, and she pulls them out, kissing your thigh. She looks back at you, as she sucks you off her fingers. “So good sweetheart, so goddamn good.” She crawls her back up to your lips kissing you gently.
She whispers into your ear. “You make such pretty noises for a slut.” That shocked you, after all those praises, she degraded you. It had you ready for round two all in eight words.
She lays next to you, looking you up and down. “Want a drink?” She asks.
You nod, she gets up tossing you her t-shirt and a fresh pair of underwear from her drawer, a pair of black boxers. They were loose resting on your hips as the shirt went to mid thighs.
She walks out of the room, and you follow her sitting on the couch as she pulls a bottle of dark liquor from her bar cart. You lay down, she sits down placing your legs on top of hers passing you the drink. She tucks her hair behind her ear and looks at you, placing her hand on your thigh.
“Wanna stay the night?”
A/N: AHHHH I wrote this really fast if there are any spelling mistakes/ grammar mistakes LOOK AWAY. I love Abby thank you.
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noe-pri08 · 9 months
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Miguel O'Hara
Heat
Summary: Miguel is in heat
I'm sorry if there are any mistakes, English isn't my first language
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You've been without seeing Miguel nearly one week, you are worried so you decide to do something. He gave a key to his house some time ago so you take it and go see him.
When you get there you look for him but don't find, you go to his room and an odd smell fills your nostrils. It's like vanilla or something similar
"Miguel?" you ask, but the only thing you hear are muffled sounds. You open the door and see his room
It is all messy, there are clothes everywhere and the smell of arousal hanging on the air. It was so strange, he has always had his room annoyingly cleaned up, he was obsessed with tidiness
"Go away" you heard him say. His under the blankets of his bed, curled up in himself
"Why? What happens?" you start walking towards him to get a better look of him
"Don't you see? I'm in heat, leave me alone please" he groans
You forrow your brows, confused "Heat? Like...animals? What do you mean?"
He lets a frustrated sigh "Kind of. Is like a biological urge, a primal instinct. You can think of this like an amplified version of lust"
Your eyes widened in realization as you finally understood. Miguel was in a sexual heat, a heightened state of desire that he couldn't resist. Suddenly, the scent in the room made sense. You couldn't help but feel a mixture of concern and curiosity.
"Umm, okay...is there anything I can help with?" you say doubtly, not knowing what to do
Miguel's gaze locked onto yours, a mixture of desperation and longing in his eyes. His voice came out in a husky tone, filled with desire. "Yes, please. I... I need relief. The heat is unbearable."
You swallowed hard, feeling a mix of hesitance and a growing heat of your own. You had a deep bond with Miguel, you were just friends but the thought of helping him in this vulnerable state sparked a primal desire within you.
Cautiously, you approached him, your heart pounding in your chest. "Okay, Miguel. I'll help you," you whispered, your voice laced with a mix of care and uncertainty. "But we have to establish some ground rules. This is only to help you through your heat, and once it's over, we'll go back to being friends, alright?"
He nodded, an intense longing evident on his face. "I understand. Anything, anything you want, but help me."
You took a deep breath, trying to steady your own nerves. "Alright, let's start by getting you more comfortable," you said, moving towards the tangled blankets covering him. Miguel eagerly helped you remove the layers, exposing his clothed body.
Then you started to take his clothes off, slowly and carefully. His muscular chest, defined abs amd strong arms at your sight. The sight of his muscular body sent a jolt of desire through you, fueling your own arousal. But in this moment, all that mattered was providing him the relief he desperately needed.
Miguel watched you intently, his red eyes burning with desire. His breathing grew heavier, and a low growl escaped his lips as his body responded to the touch of air on his bare skin.
Once his clothes were fully discarded, his naked body lay before you, his arousal evident and throbbing. You couldn't help but feel a mixture of curiosity and arousal yourself, your gaze lingering on his well-endowed form.
He shifted on the bed, his movements filled with a primal restlessness. "Please... touch me," he pleaded, his voice raw with need.
Temptation coursed through your veins as heard his request "Wait just a moment" you say while you take your own clothes off, first your shirt and bra, then your trousers and panties, your naked body in front of him to admire.
Miguel's eyes wandered over your form, his gaze filled with hunger and appreciation. His red eyes gleamed with a mix of lust and relief, knowing that his needs would finally be met. The sight of you undressing only fueled his desire further, making his need for contact more urgent.
Reaching out to trace your fingertips along his sculpted abdomen, following the trail of soft hairs leading to his lower regions. You felt a surge of desire welling up within you as you continued to explore his body, teasingly tracing circles on his sensitive skin.
Miguel's breath hitched, a low moan escaping his lips as he arched his back, craving more. The room filled with the scent of desire and the sound of your shared breaths, intensifying the electric atmosphere between you.
You walk to the bed and climb up, ending up on him. You kiss while your hands roam over his abs and arms. You get up feeling excited, your core throbbing in anticipation.
You take Miguel's cock on your hands, touching him, you align with your center and sink down, your pussy getting filled.
Miguel's hands found their way to your waist, holding you tightly against him. His touch sent shivers down your spine, and you could feel his heated breath against your skin. The intimacy between you intensified, as your bodies connected in a primal dance of raw desire.
It was in this moment that you both lost yourselves in the fire of your shared attraction, succumbing to the overwhelming need for release. The room echoed with the passionate sounds of your entangled bodies as you found solace and relief in each other's embrace, giving in to the primal instinct that drove you both in this heated encounter.
As the intensity of your connection grew, your desire for Miguel became undeniable. You straddled him, allowing yourself to take control, as the heat in the room reached its peak. Miguel's eyes widened with a mix of surprise and anticipation, his breathing becoming ragged. The moans and sticky sounds of both bodies crashing together making the room become more intimate
You began to move faster, your hips grinding against him and made your body tremble with every thrust while he puts your tits in his mouth sucking your nipples. Miguel's hands grasped your hips tightly, urging you to go faster. The pleasure intensified, and the air brimmed with the scent of sweat and arousal.
Miguel's grip on you tightened as he met your movements with his own, the intensity building between you
With the momentum building between you and Miguel, your desire and hunger for each other only grew more fervent. You increased the pace of your movements even more, riding him with a desperate need for release. The room was filled with the sounds of your bodies colliding, the wet, rhythmic slaps ringing out in the air.
Miguel's hands gripped your waist, his fingers digging into your skin as he met your every thrust with his own. The intensity of your connection pushed you both to the brink, pleasure coursing through your veins like a wildfire.
Your moans mingled with the sound of his growls, creating a symphony of passion and urgency. As you rode him faster and harder, the sensations became overwhelming. Waves of pleasure washed over you, coiling tighter and tighter in the pit of your stomach, ready to explode into blissful release.
Driven by your shared desire, you and Miguel found solace in each other's bodies, lost in the rhythm and intensity of your union. The room became a haze of pleasure, heat, and pure ecstasy as you both raced towards that elusive moment of climax.
With one final thrust, your body tensed, a surge of pleasure coursing through you like an electric shock. You let out a moan of ecstasy as your walls clenched around Miguel, drawing out his own climax. The room seemed to blur as you both reached the peak of pleasure, your bodies trembling in unison.
Intense waves of pleasure washed over you, making your toes curl and your body shudder. You clung to Miguel, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as you rode out the waves of your orgasms together.
As the aftershocks of pleasure began to subside, you collapsed into each other's arms, your bodies still entwined. Both of you were soaked in sweat, gasping for breath, and yet a sense of relief washed over you, mingled with a lingering connection and contentment.
Panting heavily, you lay tangled in each other's arms, basking in the euphoria of your shared experience. The room was filled with a comfortable silence, punctuated only by the soft sounds of your breaths and the gentle rising and falling of your chests.
Miguel's fingers lovingly traced patterns along your back as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. His voice was filled with a mix of sincerity and gratitude as he whispered, "Thank you... for helping me through this, for being here for me."
A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you shifted to meet his gaze. "I'm glad I could be here for you, Miguel," you replied, your voice filled with a warm tenderness. "We'll get through this together."
Wrapped in each other's arms, you both drifted into a peaceful slumber, finding solace and comfort in each other's embrace.
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covetyou · 7 months
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sleepless
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ao3 ⋆ main masterlist
pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: unprotected PIV, creampie, fingering, cumplay, pet names (baby, sweetheart, darlin’), mild praise kink, very mild dubcon (sleepy reader), bratty reader, no use of Y/N. word count: 3.5k summary: It’s been days since you last got anything resembling decent sleep. You’re exhausted, but more than that, you’re angry. Every little thing is pissing you off, and you just want to be left the fuck alone. Joel, ever the gentleman, has a solution to your sleeplessness, and your bad mood.
A/N: This was an out of body experience and I don’t know how it happened. Seriously, I stood up out of bed and wondered what the fuck I’d done. I haven’t written a single thing in an entire year (and that was for a funeral), and I have never written smut and don't know what I'm doing. So. Enjoy?
This one is for all of us who get really grouchy when tired. Or hungry. Or if the phase of the moon just isn't right. I see you honeybuns, and so does Joel.
follow @covetedfics and turn notifications on for updates on future work
terrible graphics by me
“What's got your panties in a bunch?”
You were in a shit mood. It was a shitty day, and you were in a shit mood and Joel was not helping.
“Nothing.” You huff out. Totally believable.
Joel runs his tongue over his teeth, eying you. “Okay… You need to go make yourself come or somethin’?”
You slam your mug on the counter, hot tea sloshing over the edges with the force. ”No Joel, I don't need to fucking come.”
It was true. You didn’t. What you needed was to be left the fuck alone with your bad mood and misplaced rage. What you needed even more was to get some goddamn sleep.
“Right.”
“Just fuck off, Joel.” You say. And he does.
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An hour later and you still haven’t left the kitchen. You haven’t seen Joel again either - he knew better than to bother you when you were like this. He’d just piss you off more, which hardly seemed fair when he wasn’t the one to piss you off to begin with. You were the one to piss yourself off to begin with. You’d barely gotten more than a full night's sleep across 4 whole days, you were tired as hell, and the sleeplessness-induced irritation was starting to seep into every part of your day. You didn’t want to inflict your bad mood on anyone, but you would if it came to it, just to be left the fuck alone in peace and quiet.
Slamming doors as you tidy away the things you'd used that day, you continue to stomp around the kitchen. It was your mess. You'd used the coffee pot. You'd used a mug, a spoon, a plate. But it still pissed you the fuck off and you were trying to conceal the blind rage that was flowing through you.
You slam yet another door, putting a plate away - why did you use a fucking plate instead of eating over the sink - and suddenly your front is crushed against the counter, a warm, solid mass pushed against your back and strong arms boxing you in either side. Joel. You could hit him. You could fucking hit him. But you don't.
“Fuck off, Joel.” You say through gritted teeth, gripping the counter in front of you.
“When did you last sleep?” He growls in your ear. You feel his warm breath ghost the side of your face. How the fuck did he know. As if it wasn’t obvious.
You don’t answer, and he nudges a shoulder forward, momentarily pushing you more firmly against the counter to get you talking.
“At night.”
Scrubbing a hand over his face, he sighs. “Which night, smartass.”
You’d taken the opportunity given by the movement of his arm to slip out from where he’d pinned you. You were not in the mood to play this game.
“I don't know.” You sneer at him as you fold your arms over your chest. It may have been childish, but you didn’t care.
“Yeah you do.”
“I said I don’t -”
“Yes. You fuckin’ do.” He was stern now, pointing a finger at you, daring you to be a smartass one more time. “Because I know it sure as fuck weren't last night.”
Busted. “The night before.” Looking away, you busy yourself with folding a dish towel.
“Really.” It’s not a question. Joel cocks an eyebrow at you with a twist of his head.
Shrugging your shoulders, you mumble back to him. “Couple hours.”
“And the night before that?”
“Didn't know you were the fucking Spanish inquisition.”
He cocks an eyebrow. Again.
“A couple fucking hours, Joel. Now fuck off and leave me alone or I swear I'll -”
He grabs you as you’re about to slap the dish towel onto the counter in anger and pulls you forward into his chest. His nose is practically touching yours and his eyes are impossibly dark.
“Shower. Now.” He means it, but you resist, trying to pull from his arms. You're pissed off. Now is not the time for him to be telling you what to do.
“No, I-”
“Get in the fucking shower.”
You can feel your top lip preparing to curl itself into a snarl. 
Instead, you turn on your heel and head for the shower.
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You’re still damp, wrapped in nothing but a towel, when you exit the bathroom.
“You done?”
Joel is stood there at the foot of the bed, his t-shirt already discarded somewhere in the room. His belt is unbuckled and he’s beginning to unbutton his jeans and pull down the fly. You can’t help but stare. The sleep-deprived rage that’s flowed through you all day feels an awful lot like arousal when your brain is too muddled to know which way is up. And when you’re looking at Joel. Especially when you’re looking at Joel. 
You gawk at the hard planes of his body. Broad shoulders, muscle built from years of working on construction sites, and a softness around the edges given to him by the comforts you know he loves so much.
It’s only 6pm. You were now more tired than angry, some of your anger washed away in the shower, somewhere between scrubbing your body and rinsing conditioner from your hair. 
You float toward the dresser and open a drawer, planning on readying yourself for bed - you suspect that’s the plan anyway. “Shower and bed” is your usual routine, after all. You distantly register that he’s talking again, but the words don’t compute until he’s twisting your head toward him with a firm finger on your chin.
“No panties. Get on the bed.” He cocks his head toward the plush bed in the middle of the room. You don’t move. “Get on the fucking bed.”
Dropping your towel, you move to the bed. You’re compliant. So tired you’ve given up. So tired, the rage can’t take hold in the same way any more. So tired, you’d do just about anything to get a few hours sleep. The fight in you has all but fucked off. For now.
Your limbs feel like lead as you pull yourself onto the comforter and fall back somewhere toward the center of the mattress. You’re too tired for grace right now. You just need to sleep. If only you could fucking sleep.
There’s a rustle of discarded jeans, and a moment later, the mattress is shifting under Joel’s weight and the heat of him radiates up you as he shifts his body on top of yours. At some point your knees were knocked apart and his own had settled between them, but you don’t remember exactly how. All you're focused on is the heat of him. 
A large hand ghosts over your hip, down the soft swell of your thigh and between your legs. He starts stroking gently at the soft skin of your inner thighs. Moving up, and up, and up, he switches sides just before meeting the apex of your legs and moves to give your other thigh attention.
You don’t know if you’ve been breathing, but you’re not dead yet so you must have remembered at some point. All you know is you’re somehow sensitive and numb in equal measure - feeling everything so harshly, but so distantly.
Soft kisses are being pressed to you - your neck, jaw, temples, chest. Up and down, just like his hands. The movement of him could send you off, but the heat above of him is burning through you too much for you to be lulled to sleep.
Swapping from side to side, he caresses your soft flesh until he’s so impossibly close to your center yet not close enough to be touching. A soft sweep of his hand over your cunt, and you’re pulled from your daze with a jolt.
“Joel, I said I don't want to come.” You try to be firm, gripping his arm and lightly tugging, but you don’t want to be. You do want to come. You’re tired, you didn’t want it before, and you’re being stubborn because fuck you always are, but now that he’s here - now that he’s there - you want it.
“I ain't makin’ you come. I'm gettin’ this pussy wet so I can fuck it.” He says it so matter of factly you could headbutt him.
Instead, your mouth falls into an o-shape and you stare at him. Your grip on his arm weakens, partly with your resolve, and partly with exhaustion.
“I -”
“Shut up.”
“But I -”
The firm fingers that were caressing your thighs so softly a moment ago are suddenly gripping your chin hard, and your eyes snap directly to his. “I said shut the fuck up.” He lands a gentle peck on your lips before releasing you, trailing his hand back down the contours of your body. His nose brushes up and down the side of your neck and jaw, occasional soft kisses being pressed to the sensitive skin there as he breathes you in. 
You are floating.
His fingers meet your folds again, relentlessly teasing and stroking the softness of your labia, a flare of something coursing through you that stokes a fire no longer built of rage, but arousal.
Joel looks down the stretch of your body as he feels at your entrance, parting you with two fingers. Teasing, he swirls his finger tip just outside of you, collecting the veritable oil slick you'd generated in the last few minutes of his careful teasing.
“There we go. We got there, huh?” He almost sounds condescending and you want to slap off the smug look you know is on his face.
“Now. Here's what we're gonna do.” He murmurs into your ear as he still teases around your cunt, dipping a little further in but never down to a knuckle. 
“You're goin’ to shut the fuck up and take what I give you. Then you're goin’ to go the fuck to sleep whether you like it or not.” 
He pulls his finger from your cunt, and before you have a chance to protest the loss of sensation or his instruction, he’s slipping the slicked finger between your lips. Your brain stutters to a halt and all you can do is gently suckle on his digit, tasting the sweetness of your own pussy.
“That taste good?” He strokes your hair, your face, and a soft whine escapes you. “Yeah I know it does baby.”
He brushes your hair back as he takes his finger from your mouth and puts it into his own, tasting the remnants of you. You stare at him, dumb from sleep, dumb from the wetness you know must be dripping out of you. 
“I know.” He coos as he sits back on his haunches. His heat is so far away now, and you almost whine again until you feel him notch at your entrance. Your eyes widen. “I know.” He pushes in the weeping tip of his cock - you don’t know how long he’s been hard but you can feel it- and slides in with a gentle thrust. Rocking his hips, you take more and more of him until he slides home and pushes his hips until they’re flush with yours. 
You are so impossibly full, stretched without much warning, and your mind so deliciously blank that breathing has to become a conscious effort.
He pulls out slightly, giving you room to breathe, before pushing back in, deeper than before. “That's it. You take it. You're getting your medicine now, huh? I'm goin’ to come in this pussy and you're goin’ to go the fuck to sleep. Ain't ya? Huh? Answer me sweetheart.”
Practically going cross-eyed with the effort, you look him in the eyes. “Mhm.”
“Good. There's a good girl. Just take it and then you'll sleep. You been needin’ this. Too damn pissy for your own good to be able to ask for what you need.”
He’s fucking into you so deep, so gently that you can do nothing but quietly gasp with each rock of his hips into yours.
“Once you get some come in your pussy that'll send you right to sleep.” He’s right. You know he’s right and it’s all you want. You need it, but words are lost to you so you nod your head softly, before letting out a deep moan. He’s pushed himself even deeper and he’s holding there for a moment before releasing. He repeats the action a few times, and your moans get higher and higher pitched.
“I'm goin’ to get it nice and deep, just how you like it. This is where you need it, ain't it?” He pushes low on your stomach. He’s always been big, but like this he feels even bigger. You let out a whine. If you had the energy to sustain your rage and be fucked, you'd be furious at your own pathetic noises, but you were so past any of it.
“Yeah.” Too sleepy and too cockdumb, it’s the first word you’ve been able to utter for what feels like an hour.
“Oh, baby, I know, you're so tired.” He tuts and picks up the pace of his movements, his solid length slowly drawing out of your messy cunt before punching back in.
Maybe if you were even more tired, the smooth, rhythmic movement of his hips slapping against yours would let you drift off to sleep, but it has the opposite effect. You can’t possibly sleep now. You need him, you need more. He’s everywhere but not everywhere enough and your arousal pools and drips down from your needy hole, down the crevasse of your ass and onto the bed below. 
Words are gone again, so you whine, high pitched and needy.
“You're taking your medicine so good baby. So good.” His words shoot right fucking through you. You could come. Oh fuck, you want to come. But you don’t know the words anymore - you don’t know any words.
So you whine again.
“Oh, it's okay, it's okay.” He shushes you, kissing your temple. “I know what you need.”
He doesn't tease. He simply brushes a hand down between your legs, never breaking the rhythm of his cock thrusting in and out of your dripping cunt. He splays his fingers around your pussy for a second, feeling his length as it slides in and out of you, collecting your wetness in the process.
Those same fingers trail up and find their place on your neglected clit, circling lightly.
He searches your face, waiting for the connection of his fingertips with your clit to register in your eyes. There it is.
“That's it, huh? That right there.” He adds a firmer pressure to his fingertips as he swirls them around your slicked clit. Your eyes have glossed over and you let out a keening whine at his ministrations, your pussy already twitching around him. 
“Thank you. Thank you.” It’s barely a whisper, but it’s words, so you’ll take it.
“Oh now she's polite, huh. Gettin’ what she needs and suddenly she remembers her manners.” He teases. Asshole.
He was so good at this. All of it. He knew the exact buttons to push, the exact way to get you wet, the words to say, the way to be. If you wanted it hard he'd give it hard, if you wanted it gentle he'd give it gentle. And this, some delicious no-man's land in-between where his movements were gentle but his words were somewhat harsh, was sending you over the edge.
The rhythm of his fingers and cock is so in sync, so perfect, that you feel your whole body begin to quake as the beginning of your orgasm flares through you.
“Oh that's it, you fucking come. You come. Didn't even know you needed it huh. Don't even know your own pussy like I do, baby. You needed all this. Needed my cock in you, feelin’ so good, needed to come around me.”
Your walls flutter around his rock solid length, gripping him, and your legs clench, trying to snap shut but unable with the press of his body between your thighs. Your orgasm washes over you, briefly blinding you and you feel Joel’s fingers and thrusts speed up, fucking you through it and rocking you back and forth as your mouth opens in a silent scream. 
One ragged intake of breath later and you go limp against the mattress. Joel stills, removing his fingers from your oversensitive clit, stroking at your arm and making you twitch.
He nuzzles his nose into you and gives a deep press into you with his hips. You gasp and open your eyes. His face is softer now - no condescending wrinkle of his raised brows, no smirk.
“You gonna play stupid next time? Huh?” He softly traces a finger over your chin and mouth.
“No.” You try not to pout at him, you really do. You’re not sure you succeed.
“You gonna ask for what you need when you need it?” His finger moves to trace over your nose, your forehead.
You nod, soaking in the feeling of his hands, acutely aware of his cock still impaling you so deeply. “Mm.”
“Good. Good girl.” He mumbles into your mouth, kissing you, licking at the seam of your lips.
With a sudden movement he pulls out and snaps his hips forward, swallowing your gasp with his mouth.
You’re fucked out and exhausted, but he’s not finished.
“You're gonna take this come now.” He practically whispers it, and you want to scream with how it reignites every nerve ending in your body to his touch. “I'm gonna come in this pussy and then we're getting those panties on you.” His head ticks over to the dresser, where the drawer still lies open from earlier. Oh. You’d forgotten about that.
“Then, you're goin’ the fuck to sleep.”
“Mm.” You nod weakly. You'll do anything. Anything he says.
“We'll deal with the messy panties when you wake up, sweetheart. See how much of a mess I make in you.” 
His movements barely speed up, barely get harder, but you know he's close. He’s been close for a while - he likes it when you fight but he likes it when you’re feeble too. 
"Yeah. Ohhhh - fuck - yeah." He doesn't stop moving, fucking you in the same steady rhythm as he empties himself deep into your cunt, thick ropes of come filling you and making you feel even more impossibly warm and wet as it leaks out of you already, still stuffed full of Joel's cock.
"Fuck. There we go.” He says with a sigh, stroking your shoulder and kissing your neck. “There we go baby.”
His cock twitches as it starts to soften, but he holds it, and his come, inside of you for a moment until it’s an impossible task.
You’re delirious from the orgasm, from the constant rhythm of Joel’s fucking setting a metronome up in your body, and from so little sleep.
A deep kiss is pressed to your lips, you try to catch it and return the pressure, but your reflexes are so slow that he’s away and sliding out of you before you can even register what’s happening. Another stroke of your shoulder and his weight is suddenly off of you completely.
You could float away without him there to tether you down.
Distantly, you hear the slide of a drawer in the dresser. You're dozing when he slides one foot then another into the legs of your panties, before pulling them up your legs to your knees. Fingertips ghost up your legs, and meet at your dripping core. He looks at the mess made of your pussy, clicks his tongue, and he fingers some of the escaped come back into you with two thick fingers.
“Up.” His voice gruff with post-orgasm relaxation and his fingers still gently moving inside of you. You lift your hips, probably barely, but it's the most you can give right now. Joel shimmies them up the rest of the way with one hand, and pulls his fingers from inside you once they're settled in place.
He rubs the soaked seat of your clean panties. "We'll keep that right there, right where you need it.”
"Mm." You nod, barely seeing him now through the haze of your sleepiness and that post-fuck haze. He was right. You did need it. He was always right.
Another soft kiss is pressed to your temple, and you feel a soft caress across your arms, shoulders, neck, face. 
Just as you register the cold you feel without him on top of you, you feel the weight of a soft blanket fall over you. Your eyes are impossibly heavy now, but you realize you haven’t been seeing anything for a while anyway. You almost don’t recall ever being angry - your frustration from the day flipped into arousal so quickly, and melted away with the waning of your orgasm.
“Sleep.” His voice is so deep and so inviting. Your body so relaxed and ready to give in to him, give in to sleep.
You’d been chasing sleep for weeks, only for it to evade you. Being given dregs of what your body would let you have. But this time, for the first time in weeks, you don’t let your eyes fall closed, you close them. You don’t let sleep take you, you take hold of it. 
“Sweet dreams, darlin’.” And you’re gone.
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jihyoruri · 11 days
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❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ 𓍢 BAD INFLUENCE kang haerin x reader
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↳ warnings yn is haerins “friend”, yn is apart of baby monster, minji and yn going at each other throats
"ugh, I hate them so much," minji groaned, her voice laced with frustration. hanni chuckled at her friend's dramatic reaction, amused by minji’s strong feelings.
"I will never understand what you have against YG artists, they're talented," hanni remarked, shaking her head in disbelief at minji’s disdain.
"and cool," danielle chimed in, coming to the defense of YG artists. "have you seen blackpink?" she added, trying to make her point.
"I don’t know, they just rub me the wrong way, like they’re so aggressive," minji explained, her expression tense as she tried to articulate her feelings.
hanni opens her mouth to argue but is cut off by a loud cackle.
the three girls exchanged puzzled glances as they observed their friend. she sat cross-legged, utterly engrossed in her phone, her laughter ringing out for the fifth time in as many minutes. each giggle seemed to pull her deeper into whatever held her attention, her face illuminated by the soft glow of the screen. the others leaned in, trying to catch a glimpse of what could be causing such amusement, they’ve never seen the girl like this before.
minji was the first to voice her concern, “why are you so giggly” haerin looked up from her phone with she opens her mouth to respond but is cut off by the youngest that enters the room.
“it’s her cool girlfriend.” hyein says teasingly as she sits beside the cat like girl who sends her a glare.
“she’s my friend.” she says as hyein laughs and minji’s face relaxes.
“you have a new friend?”danielle asks in the shock, haerin wasn’t much of a talker like the most of them so it shocked her to see that the girl got a friend and they don’t know them.
“and she’s cool?” hanni said with a scrunched face like that was the most craziest thing she’s ever heard which caused haerin to shoot her a offended look.
"hyein thinks everyone is cool," haerin interjected, glancing up briefly from her phone. "but I think she's pretty cool," she added, her voice barely above a whisper.
"she's sooo cool," hyein exaggerated to the rest of the group. "She's an idol too."
"If she's as cool as Hyein is saying, then I want to meet her," minji said, her curiosity piqued. 
hanni nodded in agreement, eager to meet haerin's new friend, while herin looked up from her phone in shock.
"What?" she asked, her voice barely audible.
"Yeah, let's meet her," danielle chimed in, with enthusiasm. "Invite her over tomorrow."
haerin would rather not invite her friend to meet her members especially minji, but looking at their faces made her reluctantly nod.
“okay, I’ll call her about it later, me and her are hanging out tomorrow anyways.”
danielle's excitement bubbled over as she tidied up every corner of the dorm, ensuring everything was in its proper place. she glanced over at haerin, who seemed lost in thought, her gaze fixed on some distant point. danielle paused, a smile tugging at her lips, as she gently nudged her friend's shoulder. "aren't you feeling the excitement too?"
haerin jumped slightly at the sudden sound of her friend's voice nodding.
 "of course she is," hanni chimed in, her voice carrying a hint of amusement as she joined danielle and haerin.
 "especially hyein. she's been going on and on about this mystery girl, driving us all a little crazy with curiosity."
“yeah, but let’s not jump on her.” minji adds when she enters the room, haerin shrunk into her seat at the leaders words, oh she does not know what’s gonna hit her.
“what time is she coming?”
“she should be coming right about-“ haerin starts but is cut off by a knock at the door.
danielle jumps up immediately and practically runs to the door hyein coming from the corner following her as well, while minji follows shortly behind them and hanni stays beside haerin flashing the girl a smile.
the door opens to reveal a girl with darker clothes her fingers adorned with an array of silver rings that glinted in the soft light of the room. among them, a particular ring caught the eye, with the word "mon" etched onto its surface, adding an intriguing touch to her attire.
her gaze, initially downcast towards her shoes, slowly lifted to meet the expectant stares of the three girls gathered at the door. despite the partial cover of her eyes beneath a bucket hat.
minji turned to look behind her and saw a curious hanni and a nervous looking haerin, she furrows her eyebrows before looking back at the door.
“hello.” her voice was intimidating but in a flash she gives them a cute smile, “it’s so exciting to meet you guys, is haerin here?”
“ah, yes she is, haerin!” danielle calls for the cat like girl, haerin gets up from her seat immediately and pushes through her 
members.
“hey.” she says quietly.
“hi.” the girl smiles, before looking at the rest of the girls.
haerin grabs her arm and pulls her inside while the rest of the girls look at them, minji was glaring more than just looking.
“yn unnie!” as hyein's exclamation filled the room, her excitement full, she made her way towards the older girl with an eager smile, her eyes filled with admiration. yn, in turn, greeted her with a warm smile of acknowledgement, a subtle nod of recognition passing between them before her attention returned to the group.
there’s silence before danielle gasps.
“baby monster!” she exclaims walk closer to yn, “you’re apart of baby monster! you’re ring makes sense now.”
yn nods while minji buds in, “it’s pretty obvious, look at her.” yn definitely picked up on the leaders tone and tilted her head while the rest of the girls  looked at each other nervously, already knowing the older girls distaste for yg artists.
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” yn says causing everyone to look at each other with raised brows while minji narrows her eyes at the younger girl. 
haerin linked her arm with yn and pulled the girl closer to her, “let’s go sit.” she says practically dragging the girl with her as the rest of the girls follow.
they all settle down, awkward silence filling the room.
“so, what’s your position in your group?” hanni asks trying her best to fuses the tension.
“I’m a rapper,” yn starts but is cut off by minji muttering “of course.”
yn scrunched her face before continuing, “but, I also sing and dance, I’m pretty good at everything.” she says with a cocky tone looking directly at minji while haerin leans closer into yn’s side trying her best to hide her giggle.
hyein laughs at the older girls words, “she’s right she’s really good at everything.” she adds expressing her admiration while minji rolls her eyes.
“so how did you meet haerin?” danielle asks eagerly.
yn sends haerin a smug look while the girl looks off to the side embarrassed, “she just followed me out of nowhere on instagram, right after my entertainment posted my introduction.”
haerin pinched yn’s side while hanni let out a loud laugh, “you’re such a stalker.” she says causing the other girls to laugh.
minji cuts the laughs off, “do all of you guys dress like this?”
“like what?” haerin answers for yn, already not liking where this is going.
“like that.” minji says towards yn, who laughed and stuck her tongue to the side of her cheek.
“we are known our good style.” yn says, playing with her rings, “you know, first brand ambassadors and everything.” she adds shadily, “kinda the reason why everyone else is as well, you would know right?… minji unnie.”
hanni snickers and danielle smacks her arm while hyein just looks between the two older girls.
minji just stares at yn while flashes her a smile.
haerin clears her throat immediately getting yn’s attention, “we should get going.” she says , wanting to get out of there immediately.
“so fast?” danielle asks looking up at the girls who stand up from the couch.
“yup.” haerin says making her way to the door, dragging yn with her who looks behind and gives everyone a smile, “it was nice meeting you guys, I’ll make sure to bring her home on time.” she adds flashing minji a wink who practically has steam coming from her ears.
when the door closes minji is the first to break the silence as they all look at the door.
“she’s going to be a bad influence.
“more like, she’s gonna drive you nuts.” hanni adds laughing.
“I need to go lie down.”
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ressonancee · 9 months
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IS THIS TOO MUCH?
When Mingyu helps you up with your boxes, you don't think too much of it, really, but when he shows up in the hall with a kid in his arms - something changes.
✦ KIM MINGYU - f!reader
✦ Genre: neighboors-to-lovers, daddy!Mingyu (slightly), angsty (slighlty), smut (minors don't interact), a little bit of health problems, oral sex (f! receiving), unprotected sex (don't do this at home), reader has a few insecurities so keep that Mingyu.
✦ word count: 11k+
✦ Title inspired by Carly Ra Jepsen - Too much.
✦ Thea note: Mingyu is so boyfriend coded I want to punch a wall, lately been thinking about daddy!mingyu a lot and how that would look like, but also Mingyu is not an easy character I swear this was a struggle, but here it is - and of course, it has a pussy drunk mingyu scene. Also thanks again @ni-aaaaaaa for helping me with this one 🫶
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Moving is hard. Moving places is hard. Moving places almost across the country is harder.
So here you are - struggling to hold the elevator and a load boxes, but then he arrives - a knight in shiny armor or just a fit guy in gym clothes and sweats.
"Do you need help with that?" he asks pointing to the boxes.
"Hi, hm -" You start, and you want to be the crazy strong independent lady who doesn't need help, you listened to Destiny Child for fuck sake, you can pay your bills and load your boxes on the goddamn elevator, but you are so freaking tired. It's the second round of boxes and you will probably need to do more and drive to hand over the moving truck, but all you need and truly want is to take a shower, get rid of the sweat, and lay down with arms and legs open on your bed like you are a starfish. But then you remember, did you pack the body soap in the backpack? Suitcase? Boxes n 03 with bathroom-related things? And the bed sheets? Fuck.
"Do you have more or?" The nice guy with strong arms and gym clothes asks already lifting the three boxes at once, putting them in the elevator and stepping in the elevator door and letting you in.
"I have a few more in the truck but-" You click on the fourth floor button.
"Oh" He says pointing at the button and at you. "We’re neighbors, nice. You’re probably in the Mrs Smith apartment, right? Lovely lady, it was nice that her daughter took her in after she moved." The guy continues and you don't quite follow but hey, he is already unloading and leaving the boxes at the 03 door so you gonna take all the help. "Do you want to put them in or do you want to pick up the other boxes on the truck?"
"You don't actually need to-" You ask trying to be a polite neighbor and not a pushover, but Mr. Nice Guy and nice arms cuts you off.
"Oh don't worry, I didn't do back or arms today, if I don't need to squat too much it's alright" He says, big smile gracing his face as he tilts his head and, oh god ,he is quite hot and he is just so nice and big all over and you’re way too tired so you don't want to take the last few boxes and do a fourth trip to the garage when you can do just two - maybe one if the nice guy with big arms lift more than you think in his everyday trip to the gym. So, you just accept, because he could do what your noodles arms could never: lift more the two boxes at once.
"Look,” You say tidying the boxes near your door because you are a good neighbor and you don't want someone to trip in the hall because of you. "I'm very grateful, and I drove for like, more than ten hours, so I'm taking all the help I can get. And I don't know your diet but I'm so buying pizza after this so if you want you can joy. Like paying for all your service with a half of pizza."
So that's how you end up with nice-guy-strong-arms-buff-chest in your new apartment and learn that his name is actually Kim Mingyu and that he’s a software engineer and that he mainly goes to the gym to see people otherwise he would not get out of the house because he works remotely. So you also give your resume-of-life talk that you worked on rehearsing in that ten hour drive - needed to change cities because working on research isn't easy, new PhD in town, works on gender studies, and has a side hustle with a nonprofit.
"Oh, so you are smart smart,” Mingyu replied with a mouth full of pizza, trying to wash it down with coke.
"Nah,” You reply in the same situation. "Dumb enough to go into humanities actually.”
"Hey! That's nothing wrong with humanities," He says. "Once I wanted to be an archeologist - that goes into humanities, right?"
"I don't really know, probably?"
And you and Mingyu guy don't really turn into friends per se - and that's mainly your fault. He’s easy going and always talks to you in the elevator or hall when you’re going to the university and he’s going to the gym. He tells you to knock on his door for a movie, tells you that you both can go to a coffee shop nearby, and tells you that he knows nice restaurants, but you never quite follow his ideas.
You could say that it was because of your routine.  Kind of excruciating; you had a few classes to actually teach, research to plan and execute, and because you were the new one in the department, all the extra winter and summer courses to plan and teach was your obligation. Yey new job!
But the actual reason is that, yes, you are overloaded with your new job, and with the new city, and with new everything. So, when Mingyu asks you just can't bring yourself to actually do it. Part of you thinks he is just being nice, just trying to be friendly, he does have that kinda puppy energy going around him - too big, too excited, too much all over the place and knocking into everything. But part of you is scared that Mingyu nice-guy-all-over might be trying something with you that you can't actually handle right now. 
Because sometimes you catch how Mingyu looks at you - eyes lingering.. And God, this works wonders to your self-esteem. Once, when you actually wore your gym clothes and he was in his jeans for a change, you could see him visibly gulping on the hallway. He asked why he never saw you at his gym, you answered the only way possible, you don't go to the gym, you are one of the runs at the park lunatics, and he said it was a pity really, maybe he can start running and going to the park.
Or that time when you had to go to a nice dinner - fundraising and meeting people was the worst part of the job, but hey, you needed the money and the funds to go around interviewing women in politics across the country, so you put the nicest black dress you had and a pair of high heels. And when you leave the house, you scream to the person in the elevator to wait and do the silliest run in those shoes and it was Mingyu – dressed joggers and hair ruffled, contrasting to your polished appearance. "Hot date?" he asked in a small voice head tilting to look at you because even with your highest heels, he was still taller. "I wish, work, and you?" You answered. "Bad day.  Gonna pick up some beer." And you left the elevator just to see Mingyu ogling at your ass and getting flustered because of it.
So maybe when he asked you out you always brushed over, never actually said no. But you never said yes either. Because even though you were actually trying to handle all the other things in your life and a relationship did fall into the 'not-now-category' or in the 'probably-will-make-me-insane', you liked having Mingyu there, in the back of your mind, filling up your fantasies and what-ifs. It may be a bitch move, but it was what you could handle right now, because really, handling the new job, in a new city, basically friendless, and almost crying at your kitchen table, because one of the students needed a week extension and that alone was almost driving you insane. 
So having Mingyu on the back of your mind was the only thing you could handle right now. Mingyu and his big hands, strong arms and his nice fucking smile, and oh god, he did smell good. Your mind could - and would - wonder when you both got together on that dumb elevator and how you want to climb him like a goddamn tree. And sometimes you let your mind wander and think how everything would go if you said yes. If you went to a nice restaurant, what would happen? Would everything go smoothly and you end up on his sheets? Or yours? How would it feel having Mingyu in your bed? You have all the questions and none of the answers.
So, when you see Mingyu with a mini-Mingyu at his side, arms full of bags, and struggling to close his kid’s coat, you get a little mind blown. You think a little and Mingyu never actually talked about having a son or a daughter you couldn't really tell, and then you blame yourself maybe he didn’t say anything because you never said yes. You never went to the nice restaurant or the coffee shop. And then it fucks you up a bit, because what else do you not know about him - maybe silly things like what is his favorite food? What movies does he like? What in his binge-watch list?
Did Mingyu get married? He’s probably divorced - you think - because you never saw that kid before so mini-Mingyu didn’t live with Big-Mingyu, and also you never saw a woman and you think that if Mingyu was married he would not be looking at your ass in every step of the way down to the garage - or at least you hope not. Oh god, you don’t want to be a homewrecker, but then again, Mingyu doesn’t look like the guy who would do that: hit on you if he was in a relationship. Then it dawns on you, maybe, maybe he was just being friendly.
Right?  
But when Mingyu picks mini-Mingyu in his arms, still with too many bags and gives you a big, warm smile, you almost freeze.
“Hey,” He says clicking the elevator’s button. “Going to the Uni?” He asks as you go to his side, Mini-Gyu’s big eyes on your face - so you just give the little kid your best smile.
“Yep, one professor is out of town so I have a few extra classes this week to teach the kids the joy of classical sociology,” You say eyes leaving Mini-Gyu and actually going to Big-Gyu, and your mind gets fucked up a bit, because one, how do genes work? That kid is actually Mingyu's carbon copy and of course, you have not stepped in biology classes in a few years - but you are pretty sure that cloning is not yet allowed - maybe you should check it out in the ethics committee or something. Maybe Mingyu is committing some kind of crime.
“Nice,” And Mingyu finally looks at the kid who is still staring at you. “This is Minseok.” He says kind of rocking the kid up and down trying to adjust the begs on his shoulder. “Minseok and I are going to the park for a picnic date, aren't we, Minseok?” But Minseok doesn't actually answer, Minseok just hides his face on Mingyu’s shoulder, looking a little shy and you smile because he looks like he just got caught staring.
“Do you need help or?” You ask seeing how Mingyu continues to struggle.
“Nah, this little guy will just walk. He is just being shy he doesn’t know how to act in front of pretty girls,” And you can actually feel the pink in your cheeks and now you quite understand Minseok and the urge to hide. And maybe, maybe Mingyu is hitting on you in every damn elevator trip.
"Poor baby," You coo and you can actually see Mingyu's legs giving up a little and picking himself up. Minseok looks at you, hand closed in your direction, you give him an open palm and he shyly drops a little sticker. "Oh! Thank you very much," You say hand closing against your chest, analyzing the little Pikachu sticker.
"Oh god, I'm raising a womanizer," Mingyu says ruffling the kid’s hair. "Did you already feel in love with noona?" Mingyu asks Minseok and strokes his pink cheeks with his massive hands. You actually can't figure out Minseok's age, is he tiny? Or it is Mingyu that is bigger than the average person?
"I'm old enough to be his auntie, Mingyu." You say actually putting the little sticker in your bag. And for once you are the one that holds the elevator door for Mingyu and the scene looks so domestic that makes your heart clench a bit. You don’t even want a kid, you don’t even know if you are ready for it, but why does Mingyu with little Minseok in his arms make you feel jealous? Jealous of the person that you don’t even know, someone who doesn’t even have a face in your imagination.
"Nah, pretty girls are always noona," Mingyu says and you can feel how your cheeks are turning pink because you feel them hot.. "Anyway, good luck with the classes. We would actually invite you over for our little picnic date but I guess you’re a busy girl."
"You know the real professor is always on my ass, Mingyu." You say heading towards your car.
"Well," Mingyu says finally letting Minseok on the floor, Minseok’s hands tiny on Mingyu's and your heart kinda swells because it is a heart warming picture really. Because you know Mingyu is a fine ass man, with a nice personality paired with a mindblowing body, and he just looks like such a father with Minseok on his hand, well it didn't help that Minseok was the cutest kid you ever laid your eyes on, even though he looked a little shy, a little sad. "You know I am always free, so you can hit me up anytime."
So, when you are talking about how Marx and Weber see the society and the conflicts in it you can't quite stop thinking about Mingyu and Minseok and you could actually cry.
Cry, because you somehow, even with all that Mingyu said to you and all the little flirtatious jabs going on you feel like you lost an opportunity. But at the same time, you want to cry because the relationship gets more complicated if a child is evolved. You may be a bitch over the fact that maybe you lead Mingyu on without actually saying no, but a child? You can't lead a child on, you can’t just kiss-kiss peck-peck your neighbor and say hi to Minseok, or even worse, you can’t start a relationship with Kim Mingyu and then break up with Kim Mingyu after being involved in Minseok’s life. You can’t picture going every weekend to the park and then just vanishing because your life is too busy and the relationship doesn’t quite work. You think that you may be a bitch and break Mingyu’s heart - even though you don't think he’s crazy in love with you to you actually break his heart, but you couldn’t break Minseok because his big eyes and small pout is too cute.
And you want to cry because Mingyu is hot. You noticed that when he picked your boxes and his arms bulged against his sleeve. You have eyes so you can see, every time you see him really, or going to the gym, or in his lounge clothes, or when he is a little bit tidy but still in not formal clothes, you stop a little and you think you never actually saw Mingyu going on a date, or in formal wear. And now it makes sense: having a kid doesn’t actually make dating easier.
But now you see another side of him. Mingyu is endearing, he is cute and you suspect that he could treat you well. He looks reliable, he has a good job, and he is a nice guy. But all that went to a new level when he had a kid in his arms, it made you twitch a little. The way that he looks at the kid in his arms makes your heart inflate like a damn balloon and makes you think about all the other things that you don't know about Mingyu, all the little secrets, all the gaps in his personality.
And oh damn. You had a new problem on your hands. Cute dilf Mingyu was the problem.
So, when you and Mingyu see each other in the hall, you breathe deeply. Afraid to say you are a little relieved when Mingyu is kid-less, but still hot in his gym clothes.
"Park today?" Mingyu asks with a gym bag in his hand.
"Yeah, I'm almost near my 10km mark so I'm pushing it a little bit." You say self-conscious tugging on your clothes, fixing your leggings and top. Fuck, maybe you should've put that baggy shirt on. Why the hell you got out of the house looking like a crazy lady without even brushing your hair? Ok, you said to yourself that the run was the last thing before washing your hair and putting a mask on it, but still, you knew that Mingyu was always in the hall.
"Nice. I heard about the run, right? Some people at my gym are going." Mingyu says eyes still on you, making you twitch. And you know is not Mingyu’s fault.  He;’s always like that - he looks at you, pays attention, not even once you felt like you were not being heard when you were talking to him, not even when you were bitching because someone left the trashcan open.
"Oh god no, I'm not even close to the run’s entry level." You say tongue itching against your mouth. Mingyu has that quality really, he makes you curious and he makes you bold and afraid at the same time. But even if your mind says no, you still go for it. "So, no Minseok today?"
"Ah," Mingyu scratches his neck, almost shy, almost. "No, he is with his mom, the little guy was sick and had a few days off so no school for him, that's why he was so shy he was actually moody, but he liked you enough to give you his treasured Pikachu sticker."
"Oh yes." You actually pick up your phone and show Mingyu, and you feel a little silly but every time you see the Pikachu behind it makes you smile. "It’s not a sticker anymore, it evolved in the lucky charm category."
"Oh" Mingyu says looking at you and at your phone with an endearing look on his face that you couldn't quite puzzle. "That's actually cute."
"I mean," you shrug.
"Well, I gonna tell him that you treasure his Pikachu. It's not like he doesn’t already have a big crush on you." Mingyu teases looking at you like he wants to see every little reaction, like he wants to put the puzzle of you together like every detail matters.
"Stop, he was just being cute and polite you should be proud." You shove Mingyu but he doesn't even bulge. Damn, he was strong.
"Oh I am, but that's not polite, that's his love language, he even talked about you to his mom." Mingyu says eyes still on you, and you think for a second how funny it is, that he actually makes you feel this way, make you feel opposite worlds at the same time, makes you want to run and hide but and makes you want to stretch and bath of every ray of attention he gives you. "And he calls you elevator noona."
"Nooooooo," you say feeling pretty good that you stole the kid's heart in one elevator trip, Minseok was easier to win over than Mingyu.
"Yeeeees," Mingyu mocks you, and again he looks shy but Mingyu is not a shy person so that makes you think, makes you ponder. "Actually, he is going to be around for a few days so if you want to go to the park or-"
"Are you free today?" You ask, and you can see Mingyu's eyes bulge, his face making sure that you know that he is not understanding what you meant.
"Hun?" He says, head moving almost like a dog.
"Today, are you free? I mean I know that you are going to the gym, but we can go to that coffee shop you said and just chat a little." When the elevator stops, Mingyu, like always holding the door for you.
"Oh, hm-" He looks at his bag, then at the elevator door closing, then at you.
"Don't worry,” You say trying to soothe him, hands gesturing and all. “It was dumb to ask when I know you have plans, we can rain-check it."
"No, no, just-" Mingyu start to pat himself searching for his phone, chest, then front pocket, then back pockets, then looking at his bag. "Let me just call Chan and tell him I'm not going to the gym."
"Noooo," You feel so silly that you almost stomp your feet on the ground like a child. "You can go, we can just meet up or rain-check it, don't worry, you always understand when I'm too busy so-"
"Noooo," He copies you. "I’ll tell Chan that I'm doing cardio today," He starts typing on his phone. "I’m doing so much cardio in the park, running is the best exercise ever."
“Now, you’re just mocking me,” You say trying to push him again but this time he pretends you are strong enough to make him move.
“Nah, not doing anything.”
Mingyu doesn't make a big deal of changing plans - which is so weird to you, a planner and an avid checker of to do-lists. The only detour he needs is to stop at his car because he can't run with his gym bag. And that's how you end up running with Mingyu, and even though you have a good pace, Mingyu's legs are just way too big, so you always end up getting a little behind.
And again, Mingyu is so caring and nice that sometimes he dashes off but when he sees you are not following his pace he stops a bit, running in place waiting for you with a big smile. Damn, you are fucked because you feel like every time Mingyu smiles, a halo of sunshine forms against his figure. You knew he was pretty, you knew he was handsome, and you knew he was hot, but now you know that he may be mother's nature favorite and that is just unfair.
Mingyu has long legs, but you have endurance, so when he is almost dying you are good to go - maybe not so good, but you can keep going for a few more kilometers.
"See you could totally go for the run. You can take a lot more than I do." Mingyu says panting, hand on his waist, bending over.
"Nah, that would make running serious and with a goal, that ruins the fun." You say fixing your hair, tying it in a high ponytail again.
"Sometimes I wonder how your mind works," Mingyu says, seriously, making you stop in your tracks, making your head tilt, and actually look at Mingyu who looks like he is trying to puzzle you. "You say things like that and the way you think is so-" He trails off again, looking at his feet, then at everything but you. "The way you think gives me a new perspective on things."
And you could almost cry. Because at the same time, you feel so seen yet vulnerable. You feel more naked than when you are actually naked with some random guy. And you breath so deeply, because sometimes you run laps just to keep things hidden, you go through mental gymnastics trying to keep things under the rug. And it clicks in your head. Maybe that's why you avoid Mingyu, that's why you always say no because to him, you are so easy to read that actually scares you. So, you do the best you can, avoid.
"Ok Mingyu, you called me weird and now you are paying for coffee," you say storming off in front of him.
"I did not call you weird, don't put words in my mouth," He grins, again next to you because of his long legs. You almost think about kicking him in the shin and storming off. "What I am saying is that we are very, very different."
"And that's a bad thing?" You ask self-conscious, feeling your body actually shrink.
"It's not bad, it's different," Mingyu says opening up the door for you. "We think differently, that's all."
"A latte please and a-" You ask Mingyu.
"A latte and an Americano," Mingyu says.
So, you both get your drinks and sit on a pretty outside table per your request. The weather is good enough for it.
"That's what I am talking about," Mingyu says with a sip. "When I am all sweat what I want is to just be inside with the AC on, you prefer to sit outside."
"I'm sweat I feel sticky in the AC." You shrug.
"You see, I feel sticky outside," he responds.
"Do you want to go inside we can-" you say already picking up your drink and getting up when you feel Mingyu's hand on your arm.
"What I am saying is that we are different." Mingyu gives you a soothing smile. "I am data-driven, you lean towards contexts. I need goals, clear goals, otherwise, I feel unmotivated, but you feel like goals take away the fun. We are different and that's nothing wrong with that, so maybe that's why I feel so interested in you."
"I'm not that interesting," you say, taking only a sip to buy more time. Actually, I'm boring."
"See, you can't take a compliment either! I love compliments, just could play a 24h audio just praising me." Mingyu says shamelessly, making you laugh.
"Yeah, I'm not good on that but I'm serious. Like, there’s not much going on here." You say pointing to yourself.
"Oh, like the poets said, if you could see yourself though my eyes," Mingyu says making you blush and look away.
"Don't say things like that." You complain, pouting like a kid.
"Oh, come on," Mingyu’s smile is big, and you see that he’s enjoying making you shy, making you embarrassed. "It's not like it’s not clear that I'm into you, I even asked you out and you were the one that dumped me."
"I didn't dump you," You say almost kicking his shin below the desk, not because you want to but because you almost had a Pavlovian reaction. "I never said no and I'm truly busy."
"Not saying no is not the same as saying yes. I know that I'm being a little pushover, but I am a simple guy. I don't see why hide that I’m into you or find you hot and interesting. And I know that you know that, and I also know that you are not into me so" He shrugs. "It's not a big deal really."
"I-" You start but you almost freeze. "Fuck, I'm so bad at this," You say to Mingyu giving him your best I'm So Sorry Smile "Look I'm not good at this, I don't flirt, and honestly small talk almost kills me. And I gonna sound like such a bitch, but it's me it's not you?" You say again giving Mingyu that smile, searching for any trace of reaction on his face "You are a nice guy and you are funny, and god you are so good looking like almost unreal good looking -" And you laugh because Mingyu is liking the shower of praises, he is enjoying every step of the way like he said he did. "But, I feel like I'm not that ready, all the changes is making me freak out and it is making me so unsure and I need time to put myself up, and I can’t ask for you to wait-"
"Oh, I’m so waiting," Mingyu says, leaning on the chair, crossing his legs and arms and looking so smug.
"I cannot ask you for that because I don't even know when I will feel ready and-" You continue, behaving like Mingyu didn't say a thing.
"Once a week," He says still looking smug it makes you stop in your tracks.
“Huh?”
"Once a week, we can see each other once a week. It can be a date in a nice restaurant, it can be run, it can be a trip to the market, anything really, just-" Mingyu breathes changing positions, and taking a sip of his coffee. "If you don't feel ready or don’t want me like that I will understand and if doesn't work out at least we can be friends, like you said I’m a nice guy."
And that's how you end up entering in Mingyu's life and letting Mingyu enter yours. That's how you end up on Mingyu's sofa, two weeks later, on a Friday night, chilling, Mingyu's head on your lap, fingers threading through his soft hair, paying more attention to him than the movie really. And that’s because Mingyu was kissing you before you two chose the movie. He kissed you against his door, and gave you a peck when you put your bag on his table, and he kissed you again on the sofa, make you whimper because the way he is holding your hips. But he is a nice guy, and you said you were not ready for all that, so he goes back to his good guy persona and lays on the couch, head in your lap, leg almost entirely off the couch.
And then his phone rings and rings, so Mingyu breathes deeply and annoyed, because who dares disturb his head-rubbing time and sits up.
"Hey," Mingyu says and his face changes so fast you can almost feel in the air "Okay okay, just-" he says already getting up and doing his back pocket tap that he always does to go out. "Okay, just give him some Tylenol, ok? I’m already on my way, I can call when I'm about ten minutes away so you can go down, ok? It’ll be faster."
He stops to look at you. And he looks so afraid that you just know it is about Minseok.
"It’s ok. Go." You say because it is, the change of his demeanor says is something important.
"Fuck," Mingyu says, hands going to his hair and tugging it "It’s just Minseok. We just found out he has Crohn's disease and he is having a flare up. We need to take him to the hospital, he is down with a fever so it’s not a good sign and I should go really."
"I can drive," You say getting up as well.
“Oh no, no you can stay really finish the movie, you can totally feel at home, you can cook something or shit-"
"Mingyu," You say searching for his hand, big against yours. "You are shaking." And you can almost feel the energy trapped inside him, making him tremble all over. "Hey it's gonna be OK, Minseok is gonna be fine. I just need you to calm down. I’ll drive and everything will be OK. Minseok needs you calm."
"Ok, ok. Thank you."
So you guys storm off. You guys ended up in Mingyu's car, you fixing up his car seat and his rear view mirror to make comfortable to you. And every time you stop on a red traffic light you check Mingyu out, breath still fast enough for you to notice, face full of worry. And in that moment, you think you care so deeply about Mingyu, because seeing him like that is making your heart break in tiny little pieces.
Because Mingyu is just not like that. To you, Mingyu is always warm, always full of energy. He’s like a warm soft blank that has just enough weight so you can feel grounded on your bed. Mingyu is a night sky - big but so full of stars, those same stars bright enough to guide you home.
When you finally arrive at Minseok's place you see the little guy in his mother's arm and that makes your heart break all over again. You see Mingyu open the door for them, and he goes to the other side putting Minseok in his little chair, the woman doesn't even look at you, her full attention on Minseok, but still you feel uneasy. Out of place. You feel like you are barging in in a scene that is not yours, like an extra ruining the shoot. But then Mingyu is at your side again, hands on your thigh, big in contrast, and you feel his warmth and assurance, so you just drive.
At the hospital, everything seems kind of hectic, and you again feel out place again, asking yourself if you should be there. In your mind, you know you did the best of the situation: you helped Mingyu, and that should be enough. But emotionally, you feel so damn invisible in it all, and that makes you feel even worse because it makes you feel so egoistic. For God's sake, a child is sick needing a hospital and here are you feeling like you need to cry because fuck you feel out of place? Feeling pathetic about it makes you want to cry too.
So, when you and Minseok's mother are side by side, coffee in hands and Mingyu on the loose searching for food, you want to just get up and leave without giving a proper explanation, but you think you need to be a reasonable adult.
"You see…" Minseok's mother starts. "Mingyu never brought a girl home." And you kinda feel strange what she is saying but hey her kid is on the hospital, she may be going crazy. "I never actually even saw one of his girlfriends, ever."
"Oh, I’m not his girlfriend, we’re just friends." You start, but the taste of the phrase feels weird against your tongue.
"Yeah," She laughs, and you know she is laughing at you, which makes everything worse. "I know my brother and I know how he looks to someone." She says, holding her head, elbows on her own thighs, and she looks so so tired, and that too, makes you want to cry. "But I’m glad that you are here. I may not seem glad because my kid is right now on a hospital bed, but-" she says laughing again, and now you are not so sure why she is laughing, she looks so exhausted she is almost out of it. "But since Minseok's father passed away Mingyu is just giving his all you know? He bends over backwards for us. He picks Minseok on school when I can’t get out of the work on time, he was the one who could actually take care of Minseok the last time he went to hospital because I was too damn busy, and he actually cooks for us and he just goes to my home to leave side dishes. He is doing more than he should. He is doing what a father should be doing." She says and you hear her heart breaking, you almost see the blood, because she is so transparent, so worried, so sorry, and all that don't make sense in your head. "What I’m trying to say is that my little brother is precious, so if you fuck up, I might kick your ass."
"I thought he was-"
"Minseok's father? I know I gave birth to a mini version of my brother, but like, it's a little screwed up you didn’t know. Maybe you guys should work on your communication."
And that stays on your mind. Stays on your mind when it gets too late to get an Uber so Mingyu insists on you driving his car back because ubers can be weird and unsafe. Stays on your mind when he doesn't text you. Stays on your mind when you are at university, yet again lecturing about sociology classics and some passionate kids are debating about communism, and you can't even make yourself worry that you are not that older than the people you call kids. Stays on your mind when you arrive home and you can't quite bring enough courage to knock on Mingyu's door.
But then two days after the whole not-Minseok-daddy’s fiasco, Mingyu is at your door. Looking like a truck just hit him, the same clothes from a few days, body a mess, and you suspect that mind too. So, you let Mingyu in, guide him to your shower, go to his home pick up his clothes, and you roll your sleeve and start making Mingyu dinner. You are not a good cook, and Mingyu is certainly better than you, but still, you try your best. It’s what you’ve been doing all your life really.
You are putting garlic and onions in the pan when you feel Mingyu's arms going around you. He puts his forehead on your shoulder, and you can smell your soap’s scent on his skin.
"I'm sorry I vanished."
"It's okay it must have been tough. I understand."
"I know you do, and I'm very thankful for that but-" Mingyu turns his head to your neck, and you can feel his smell you and his hot breath against it. "I still shouldn't have done it. It was a dick move. You were also worried."
"Yeah, but it’s okay. Is he okay?" You say lowering the fire.
"Yeah, he is already talking about how his mom should give him a better cellphone so he can play Pokémon go at the hospital because everything is so boring."
"See? He’s okay. Minseok is fine." You say turning and giving Mingyu a hug, his head going again to your neck, almost rubbing himself on you.
"Yeah, we just need to pay more attention to his diet." He says still bending to hug you.
"See, Minseok is fine, but you don't look so good sir, so let me treat you to a nice, homemade meal." You say giving his butt a little tap because one more second in Mingyu's and everything will be burned in the pan.
"What I did do to deserve you?"
"A lot of things, Gyu, a whole lot of things."
Mingyu eats, and it seems to improve his energy a bit because he insists on watching a movie with you, even tho you know he looks like he may fall asleep at every minute - he didn't actually sleep soundly for two days and you said that to him, but, being the stubborn guy he is, he still insists. So you two end up in your bed, bodies tangled, Mingyu's head on your chest, your fingers going through his hair - he favorite thing in the whole world he says and that makes your heart bloom, full of tiny little flowers.
You wake up in a different situation. Mingyu's body now pressed against your back, his thigh big against yours, and his hand splayed against your other thigh. Mingyu's strong arms around you, and he is warm against you and surprisingly soft. You squirm a little trying to change position until you can face Mingyu, face soft and peaceful.
And fuck.
Maybe you don't just care about Mingyu.
Maybe, just, maybe you have fallen in love with him. Maybe now, after having him on your bed, you will continuously think about how you want to wake up in his arms. Maybe you will continuously think about how you want to be Mingyu's shelter, how you want to be the place he comes back to when times get rougher. Maybe you want to be Mingyu's night sky clear enough and starry enough to guide him home. And all that makes you feel like you want to cry and weep because maybe you are not ready enough. Maybe you will never be. But you want to be, you want so much and that makes things even harder.
So when Mingyu gives you a peck on the lips when he is going home to change for the gym and you are ready for a day in the university you also feel like crying.
And when Mingyu sends you a message asking you out - on a proper date he makes that clear enough you also feel like crying.
And when Mingyu is knocking on your door because you didn't answer and he saw your car in the garage when he was back from his market trip you are already crying before even answering the door.
"Hey-" He freezes and his demeanor changes. "Hey, what's wrong?"
You just continue to cry, feeling like a dumb little kid, feeling like a pan full of water in the stove, boiling and overflowing.
"Hey, babe what's wrong?" Mingyu says, hands on your cheeks making you look at him. "You’re making me worried."
"I just-" You try to say, cleaning your face but you just hiccup harder.
"Are you feeling unwell? Do you need to go to the hospital?"
"No, I'm OK." And you say because you see Mingyu's face squirm in agony.
"Ok, ok. Do you need anything? Do you want me to buy anything? Fix anything? Did someone mistreat you?" Mingyus continues to try searching for something in your face.
"No I-"
"You can tell me if it is someone from your work or-" He tries again.
"It is not about work, it is about us." You finally say, not because you summed up the courage, but because the way Mingyu is acting is breaking your heart all over again.
"Us?" Mingyu bends his head to the side. "Okay, what's wrong with us?"
"Sometimes I get too wrapped up in my head and that's not your fault." You say, just leaving him there and sitting on the sofa. And you feel the urge to just tug at your hair and scream. "And the whole I'm not ready thing and your sister-"
"What did my sister say?" Mingyu cuts you, closer to you, arms folded against his chest.
“It’s  not because of what she said, she is actually right about it-"
"Look babe, I love my sister to death, I love Minseok to death, I’d die and kill for both of them, but my sister is overprotective so whatever she said-"
"She said we don't have good communication." You blur out at once.
"Oh, for fucks sake,"
"And she’s right because I thought Minseok was your kid right?" You tell Mingyu a little exasperated. "Like we've been hanging out right? And I didn't feel comfortable to talk about it with you"
"Everyone thinks Minseok is my kid." Mingyu says like is not a big deal.
"Yeah but your maybe girlfriend shouldn't and I found out on a trip to a hospital when all the time I was thinking about how worried you were because it was your kid." You say bringing your knees to your chest because all this is fucked up, you shouldn't be talking about this with Mingyu because you have no right to, you were the one that spent too much time not saying yes, and when you said yes didn't even feel like a yes to be honest.
"I was worried, and Minseok is my kid in a way.”
"Mingyu,” You breathe deeply, because you feel stupid, and you feel like you are asking too much "Maybe that's my fault too, I'm not blaming you, that's why I told you that I was not ready for a relationship because I always fuck things up. I get so scared that I fuck things up before people realize I'm not good enough fo-"
"For fucks sake," Mingyu says opening his arms and tilting his head again. And you think is the first time you see Mingyu mad or frustrated, or both at the same time, you really can’t tell. "What the fuck do you mean with not good enough? You are caring, you are smart, and you actually drove me to the hospital and stayed there until I kicked you out. All that when we’ve been seeing each other for two weeks, how is that not being good enough?" Mingyu take your hand that is laying against your knee and caresses it with his thumb. "You make me go crazy every time we are together and I feel the happiest I've ever been in these months fuck this year actually has been a hell for me." Mingyu kicks nothing, and you feel so sorry for bringing it up, for crying, because you can see that this is hard for him too. "So yeah, maybe you are not ready so what? Maybe we don't have communication, yeah sure we fucked up, but if you get out of your head, maybe it’s all because I'm the asshole, I'm the one who loves his nephew enough to want to actually fit the dad shoes because Minseok deserves a father figure. I-" Mingyus says and you can see that his knee almost buckles, making him change positions. "I'm still lacking too, maybe I'm a mess too, fuck, maybe I'm not ready too, but I prefer not being ready together than being ready at the wrong time." Mingyu takes another step, and his hand goes to your cheeks caressing it, making you closer your eyes and just enjoy his faint touch. “So don’t feel pressured ok? You are not in this alone, and I told you I’m all okay with waiting and I’m- I may not seem like it, but I am a mess too, I have my doubts too, and I get into my head too. So when you are getting all crazy and stuff just, just let’s have a talk, ok?”
“Okay, yeah. Okay.” You say catching his hand and kissing his palm. “Can we order food? Can we order Chinese?”
“Of course we can, baby.” Mingyu says with a chuckle.
“And then, " You start unsure of yourself because you still think you are asking too much and giving too little. "Then can you tell me about Minseok? Can we talk about the whole history?”
“Of course, we can” Mingyu says, looking at you fondly again, and for once you feel that being transparent to Mingyu is not that bad because you feel like he understands you need. “I may cry though, so…”
“It's okay, I'm pretty sure you gonna be cute crying.” Mingyu gives you a big smile and that makes you feel alright.
So Mingyu tells you a lot. He tells about Minseok's dad death, he tells about his own father's death and how that impacted him, and how he draws the parallel between Minseok and himself. He talks about how his sister is so protective of him even tho she is half his size, he talks about how his sister always picked his fight. He tells you about Minseok favorite things - Pokémon, ice cream, and dinosaurs. He tells you everything he can think of until you two finish up dinner, and he continues to tell you everything when you are laying in his arms, his hands on your hair, your body over him - legs and arms across Mingyu, because you feel the need to hug his big and beautiful heart, but you settle the need hugging him instead.
And you and Mingyu just fall into a routine easily. You sleeping on his bed or him sleeping on yours, even though his feet always hang on the end of your bed because he is just too damn big and tall. You always say goodbyes at the door, or on the elevator, Mingyu going to the gym, you to your work. Sometimes, when Mingyu has a deadline you stop at your favorite restaurant and order food to cheer him up. Sometimes, Mingyu picks you up so you guys can eat out for a change. But the thing is - its always more than once a week.
So when Mingyu knocks on your door, maybe the fourth time this week (without counting the times you knocked on his door) you are ready to give a pretty and polished version, with heels and all, because Mingyu is taking you to the new fancy restaurant across town.
"Hey-Wow" Mingyu says and you almost throw yourself at him, you almost drool and make a fool of yourself, because Mingyu is wearing black slacks and a white button-down, and god your boyfriend is so hot. "You look amazing babe." He says holding your finger up and making you twirl.
"Thanks," You give him a kick peck and spread your hands against his chest. "You don't look so bad either."
The restaurant is nice, the place is beautiful, the food amazing, and the wine Mingyu ordered tastes so good against your tongue. But the only thing you actually think of is him. His pretty skin pecking out of hir shirt collar, his pretty lazy smile against a few cups of wine, his strong arms and peck against the fabric of his shirt.
When you guys finally settle on the Uber, Mingyu does one of the things he does best - he thinks and conjures in his mind that every damn living thing is in love with you, and it is endearing really. He is so protective and caring and that makes you want to jump him too. He nods to the uber and his big ass hand rest on your thigh, just where the hem of your black dress ends.
And you want to kiss him so bad, if it wasn't for the Uber, you could probably ride him in the backseat. You tug Mingyu's arms making him bend a little in your direction, while your other hand is splayed on top of his, fingers interwind. You kiss Mingyu’s jaw and feel his arm up, god, he is so strong and so hard all over it makes you go crazy, makes you want to merge your body with his, so you just try to get closer to him even if you know it's not really possible.
“You smell nice,” You say almost sniffing Mingyu, hand on his biceps and face on the slot of his neck.
“I smell like I always do?” Mingyu answers you but is more a question really. His hand still on you thigh, but this time giving it a squeeze.
“Yeah, but you always smell nice, baby.” You hands travels up - stopping on his chest. Well, fuck the uber really, he probably sees couples feeling eachother up all the time, so you just paw Mingyu chest.
“Thanks babe but,” He says, holding your hand and giving you a chuckle when he sees you pouting on his shoulder.
“No fun.” You say still trying to get your hand free, to feel Mingyu up in the backseat like a fucking teenager. And to be honest you like the prospect of it giggling a little, feeling dumb, but oh so happy.
“No fun?” Mingyu asks you. “I’m the most fun guy you’ve ever met, I love fun. Fun and I are synonyms.”
“Well, I’m trying to feel you up in the backseat of an uber and you’re not letting me, so, you are the most boring guy ever.” You say on Mingyu’s ear, whispering the words, and you just see his body jerking. He starts to cough, looking at you disbelieved, and you do the only thing possible and laugh.
You take pity on Mingyu's situation, because he is almost choking on the backseat. So you behave like a little girl, hands on her lap, no more touching his boobs, or trying to lick his neck and jaw. But you still think about every other thing you want to do to him. You think about how Mingyu’s hands are big and the way he always put on the small of your back, and you question how it would feel against your neck.
You also want to discover every nook and cranny of Mingyu. Because you love the way he is so reliable in every aspects of adult-life that you struggle a little, he was the one that dealt with the new ac installation in your apartment, but you also love the way he gets so silly and pouts with the smallest and easiest things, and deep down you know Mingyu can do that task, he was big and strong, yet you were the one taking the grasshopper off his balcony.
But when Mingyu is glued to your back, hands on your hips and mouth on your neck on the elevator you think that you settle to discover this version of him today. The version that has you wrapped up in his arms, and the version that has the audacity to feel you up in the elevator.
“You are such a jerk.” You say to Mingyu still latched on your neck.
“Me?” Mingyu asks trailing his hand till they stop on your ribcages, fingers digging in.
"Yes, you." You say trying to get out of Mingyu's embrace but he’s just so clinging, glued to your back, and he is actually keeping you in place with his strong arms. "You can do everything and I can't feel up in the uber. It’s unfair."
"Baby, the uber was right there." Mingyus says guiding you though the hall and stopping on your door.
"Yeah and the crazy lady from the 07 can show up at anytime." You say trying to up your door but Mingyu hands are still on you, now on the hem of your dress, toying with it. "I really shouldn't you let get your way with me today."
"Don't even think about that." Mingyu says, hands again on your hips, this time he starts rutting against your back. "I might die." And you two almost trip when you finally open the door and Mingyu's body weight makes you go forward.
"Yeah, but I’m still mad with you." You say tugging on Mingyu's shirt, his large body pressing you against the wall.
"Baby’s mad?" Mingyu coos, and your legs almost give up because the condescending tone his uses make your brain stop. "What can I do then, hmm?" Mingyu says already lifting your dress up. "What can I do so my baby is not mad with me?"
So you do the only thing you think really, you put hands on Mingyu's neck and bring him to a kiss, it is sloppy but you don't even care, because Mingyu's lip feel so soft, and you can trace the taste of the wine on his tongue. And you are so distracted that you only realize Mingyu is getting you naked when he breaks the kiss to take off your dress.
"Fuck-" Mingyu says actually looking at you, hands on your waist holding you back enough so he can see the way that the black lingerie you bought a few days ago cling onto your skin.
"Come here." You say grabbing Mingyu's shirt again, wanting his mouth back on yours. But Mingyu cuts the kiss short again, leaving sloppy kisses on your jaw and neck. "Babe." You call again, hand going to his hair and tugging.
"I know, I know" Mingyu says kissing your collarbone. "Fuck-" He says taking a step back again and you can feel your body going in his direction, but Mingyu's hand steadies you against the wall. "Just- you look so pretty." Mingyu says looking at you and you’d almost feel shy if you didn't feel so needy. "Look at you." He says hand traveling to touch your boobs so fucking softly you almost melt, fingertips grazing against your lingerie.
"Babe," You whine again, trying to get Mingyu's attention, but he doesn't care, too lost kissing your chest.
"Fuck-" Mingyu says grabbing your hips, toying with your panty line. "Wanna eat you out so bad," He says like almost begging and you need to balance yourself on his shoulders. "You’ll let me right?" Mingyu says looking at you, eyes still against on your skin.
And you feel like your mouth is not working properly so you just give him a nod and it's enough for Mingyu trails his lips lower and actually kneel in front of you. And that alone should be fucking illegal, so when he plants a little kiss on your mound you think you are ready to go straight to hell because you just want to shove his face on your pussy, but instead you just hold Mingyu's face, hands on his jaw.
"I-" he starts, hands on your ass, fingers digging on your skin. When you look at him again he looks so out of it, so lost, so pussy drunk you can almost cry. And when Mingyu actually starts to lap at your pussy, your lingerie still in place you feel actually insane, clenching around nothing and the feel of your wet panties against your core makes you tug at his hair. The way Mingyu looks - eyes closed, hair a mess because of you, eyebrows furrowing in concentration makes your hips buckle against his mouth, but he just keeps going, like there is no other thought in his mind.
"Babe please I need-" You say breathing rapidly, and you feel the urge to cry again, because is so good but at the same time is not enough.
"Hm?" Mingyu says mouth still on you, eyes opening looking at you.
"Need more." You say pathetically, but if you need to beg, you will beg.
"Yeah?" Mingyu asks. "Gonna give to you baby." He says just so he can get his mouth off of you to tug your panties to the side. Then his mouth is on your pussy again, like he can't really spent more than two seconds apart. And you just mew, one hand on Mingyu's hair, and another one trying to keep your body straight against the wall. "Fuck-" Mingyu says again tugging at your panties to the side again, and you can feel it digging at your chest but you don’t care. "How can a pussy taste so good?" Mingyu asks but you doesn't really have an answer, and you feel Mingyu's strong hands on your leg, manhandled your into position, leg against his shoulder, hand splayed on your thigh, while the other one goes to your pussy opening you up. "Pussy’s so pretty fuck, could eat you out for days." He says almost breathless before going back to lap at your pussy, fingers still keeping your open and sucking at your clit.
And everything makes you feel insane. Of course Mingyu's tongue against your entrance makes your knees give up, of course the way he keeps you open for his mouth makes it so dirty, but whats really keeps you going, what makes you reach the edge so fast is the way he hums against your pussy, like it's his favorite thing in the world, the way he is so fucking desperately laps at it, the way the everytime your hips buckle Mingyu just follows the moviment because he can't take his mouth off you for a fucking second and it's what makes you cum. And you actually need to hold Mingyu's head for a minute so he leaves your pussy in other to you catch a breath.
"Need a minute," You say explaining when he looks at you puzzled. "Sensitive."
"Did you just-" Mingyu stops, looking at you and at your pussy making you laugh a little. "Did you just cum?"
"Yeah?"
"Fuck, you are so hot." He says giving the leg that still on his shoulder a bite. "But you can take more right?" He says fingers tracing your pussy, pressing your clit making you jump a little. "You need to take more babe, gonna eat your pussy again, open you up with my fingers," he says fingers on your entrance "and then will you make you come on my cock I know you will take so fucking well-" and he plants a kiss on you clit again. "Pretty pussy taking my cock hm? Gonna make you enjoy it, promise, gonna make you feel good."
And you don't doubt for a second that he will make you feel good, fuck he just made you cum against a wall two steps away from your door, but before you can say anything Mingyu is attatched to your pussy again.
"Wait, babe" Mingyu says. "This damn thing is getting on my way." He says letting your legs fall down and he finally takes off your panties, not even bothering to get really off of you, Mingyu just let one of your legs free while your panties sits on your feet. "God, if you let me, I will eat you out everyday, lick this pussy everyday before getting out of bed." He says like he is telling you about a new habits like drinking water first thing on the morning, or have a juice everyday - but he is talking about how he wants to bury his face on your legs like he is doing now, tongue going against your folders, arm going around your leg and opening you open again for him, while the other one goes to your ribcage keeping your body upright. And you loose track of time really, just focusing on Mingyu's tongue against you, humming all over again. "Fuck, how can a cunt taste so fucking good." Mingyu says mouth leaving your pussy as his fingers tacking its place. "You are making me insane, going to cum at my pants if we keep going like this." And you can actually see Mingyu palming himself.
"We can-" You try to start but he just chuckles.
"Oh no, don't worry about me." He says eyes leaving you and going again to your pussy, and you feel so exposed in Mingyu's hand, his digit finally entering you which makes you whimper, until know you didn't really paid attention on how empty you felt. "Making you feel good is enough for me." He says like he is not fingerfucking you to the second orgasm of the night. And again is not really the actions itself, of course. Mingyu’s longer fingers entering you is so fucking good, the way his thumb goes at your clitoris rubbing it in circles makes you cry, but when you look down and Mingyu barely blinks, eyes on your pussy and licking his lips like he didn't eat your pussy for minutes, is what makes you break, the way he looks so fucked blissed about giving you pleasure like he doesn’t need anything else.
And you come on his fingers and almost melting, but Mingyu lifts and holds you up, giving your ass a squeeze.
"So fucking hot-" Mingyu says his strong arms around you making you move towards the sofa, and you are pretty sure he is just dragging you around because your legs gave up. "Could use my mouth to clean you up-" and you almost scream when he is laying on the sofa, letting himself get comfortable between your legs.
"Babe, I love your mouth," you say tugging in Mingyus shirt, and how the fuck he is not naked. "but really I need your cock, otherwise I might go crazy." And you use your last few working neurons to start open the buttons on his shirt but suddenly stop when Mingyu just shoves two fingers inside you again.
"Hm, but you look stuffed enough baby." Mingyu says lowering himself and giving you a kiss, you feeling the taste of your pussy on his mouth.
"Mingyu, please" You beg. "Please, I-"
"Shh, it's okay, gonna give it to you." He says finally getting off his shirt and you feel so empty you can feel yourself clenching over nothing, and you can see how Mingyu just watches your pussy. "Fuck, baby, don't worry" He says already opening up his pants. "Gonna give to you real good, gonna make you feel so full."
"Oh, thank god." You say making him laugh before getting naked, and fuck, he was pretty and big all over. And you almost drool because, shit, even his dick is pretty. "Can I suck you off?" You ask already crazy enough that you mind-mouth filter just vanished.
"Oh fuck," Mingyu say hips buckling, making his cock sits on your mound, and he looks so big. Thank fuck he stretched you out. "Yeah, yeah not now though, might cum on your mouth."
"That's alright."
"Babe," Mingyus mewls, head resting on your collarbone, looking defeated. "Don't say things like that I almost-" He says hips buckling again. "Wanna fuck you properly."
"Ok, ok, but later…"
"Yeah, you can choke on it later, I won't be against it." And god, you want Mingyu to shut the fuck up because if he keeps talking to you, you’re gonna cum again without his dick inside you. "Fuck, might not last long" Mingyu says, and you almost laugh at him, because he is acting like you are not one step away from being spent just because of your mouth. Mingyu guides his cock with his hand, mouth watering looking at it, and when you feel hime ntering you you actually sees your boyfriend gulp.
And then you think about Mingyu saying how different you both are from each other. How his main sense is his vision, while for you, every touch sends you overdrive. And how both of you are so different but fit so well, because when Mingyu is fucking you, his body against yours, mouth at your jaw and hand holding yours, you feel like earth could collapse and the world could end because you already had the taste of the most important thing in the world; the taste of being loved by Mingyu, and you are sure nothing will come close to it.
You feel the urge to make Mingyu feel the same way, so loved and so cherished. So while Mingyu is fucking you, you try your best, you kiss his jaw - and it's messy and sloppy, but it's the best you can do when his dick is stretching you out. You claw at his shoulder, and you put your legs around his waits.
"Fuck, baby-" You try to speak again but you feel unable to, like your brain are not even trying to put more than two words together.
"I'm so fucking close." Mingyu says with his thrust getting faster, out of rhythm, body more pressed against yours.
And you just let the wave wash over you. You can feel Mingyu getting even more unruly, babbling things that you can't really make sense because, fuck, you are so gone. The way that he fills you up in every corner is just different, the way that he stretches you almost makes you feel like you arrived at a point of no return, and when you cum, clenching around him, Mingyu reaches his breaking point.
"Fuck-" He says getting off of you, and getting his hair out of his face, and his smile is so big, so beautiful and so lazy you could just kiss him if your limbs were working really.
"Hey baby, can you please take my bra off?" You say already turning on the bed but when Mingyu's laugh reaches your ears you are so fucking glad that you moved.
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fairycheol · 3 months
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Sunday Morning
luke castellan x apollo!fem!reader
cw: pure fluff, kissing, minor injury, a little bit of angst
Everyone at Camp Half-Blood knew how good you were at your job as head counselor for the Apollo cabin. You were strong and agile, and had a great hand in archery, healing, singing and dancing. You were everything an Apollo kid needed to be.
Apollo himself took pride in that. Sending you arrows crafted by Artemis and even requesting Hephaestus make a gold bow just for you. His favorite daughter.
Everyone at camp also knew you as the girl who had stolen Luke Castellan’s heart. The two of you arrived at camp only a day apart, and despite being claimed by Apollo two weeks into your stay at the Hermes cabin, you were able to form a bond with the boy. A bond surely impossible to break. Right?
This Sunday morning was no different then any other day, the sun was up earlier than usual and in true Apollo kid fashion you followed with it. As a camp counselor it was your duty to take on the heavier jobs in camp. Hunting for food with some of the Artemis girls, gathering herbs with the Demeter cabin and other things.
Today’s chores involved restocking the infirmary, Capture the Flag was approaching and knowing Clarisse La Rue there was sure to be a few kids walking in with narly bruises after.
“What’s up Sunshine?” Turning around to the sound of a deep voice from the infirmary entrance you see Luke. His hair is messy and his shirt is inside out. Unlike the other cabins at camp, the Apollo kids don’t get the luxury of sleeping in late.
“Hey Curls you’re up bright and early,”
“Yeah well, Mr.D said I could help you with restocking the infirmary and I won’t pass up an opportunity to spend some time with you.” By this point Luke has walked forward so you stand toe to toe with him. Wrapping your arms around his neck you give him a quick kiss on the lips,
“Well that’s awfully sweet of you,” Luke leans in for another kiss but is stopped by your pointer finger being pushed against his lips
“But! you should probably fix your shirt. It’s inside out and I don’t want you to come mopping to me when Chris makes fun of you for it.” With a pat to his cheek you leave the infirmary closing the door behind you.
-
When Luke finally joins you outside his hair has been tidied and his shirt has been fixed so you grab his hand and begin to head for the forest.
The two of you spend the next two or so hours in pure harmony and bliss. Throwing strawberries at one another and stealing a few kisses.
Nothing could this moment, except maybe the raging storm that was soon approaching in the form of a 12 year old boy.
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The worst part about having your own apartment is having to clean it by yourself.
#my last apartment i shared woth someone#and i rarely used our common sreas anyway#so i would clean up after myself if i used a common area but that was pretty much it#and then i would clean my room#okay clean is a strong word but at least it was just one room#now i have my own kitchen. bathroom. bedroom. main room. entryway#and its all mine to take care of#i have to take out the garbage. do the dishes (by hand. god i miss dishwashers)#and i have to do all the big cleaning too! honestly i havent even fully unpacked from when i moved here seven months ago#i hsve four days off so i kind of want to spend some of that time and go for it#just take care of the entire huge mess now that i actually have the time for it#but cleaning. is difficult#especially when i haven't fully unpacked. but its hard to unpack when shit's not clean. and hard to clean when shit's not unpacked#so you see my problem#im working on donating a bunch of shit too. i know i shouldve done that before i moved but i had like sox days to pack and move out#so now im gonna donate stuff. i have so muvh stuff to donate#thatll take care of some of the mess but wow. wow wow wow. this is a huge ordeal#i think itll be worth it when its all nice and tidy tho#i think itll really help my mental health#im tired and dont want to do this but like. i gotta#ive been having trouble feeling at home in my apartment#i think that itll really help if im unpacked and it actually looks like i live here#rn it really just looks like i threw all my shit in the door and never took the time to move in and honestly. yeah thats how it went#and it hurts my soul to come home to a place that doesnt feel like home#so my goal for these next four days is to make it my home. unpack. hang art and decorations. make it mine#clean it up. do some laundry because im out of clothes. make my bed so that its not just a haphazard pile of pillows and a semi-clean sheet#im impulsive and always want to pick up and move. ive been feeling that way here#im hoping that fixing it up will calm me down enough to not daydream about running off to another state again#wish me luck. something that would really help is a friend to hang out with me while i do it. idk why company makes it easier#i dont want them to clean or anything i just want them to sit and talk while I tidy
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sentientcave · 9 days
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Retirement Party
Price has retired from Military life, and he's not handling the change well. But on the one year anniversary of him hanging it up, his boys bring him something special to help keep him busy. You.
Chapter One - The Perfect Gift
Contains: No Y/N, Kidnapping, Stalking, Drugging, Forcible relocation, Generally creepy behaviour, Threats (open-ended), I guess this might count as human trafficking?, Dubcon everything because Reader is terrified (non-sexual), plus-sized reader, fem/afab reader, There is something fucking wrong with these guys for real.
~3.2k - MDNI - Dark fic! Please mind the content warning above
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"I told ye, she's perfect," Soap said, eyes on the window across the street. They could see you puttering around your living room, wearing a pretty flower print dress as you tidied up. "Good with bairns too, met her when I was pickin' up the niece and nephew from school. She was workin' for some rich family, an' they let her go because the wife found a pair of her knickers in her husband's briefcase." He snickered. He'd been the one to put them there, although, in his opinion, he’d been pushing the bounds for a long while anyway. Sure he’d essentially cast you adrift, jobless and with no one looking out for you, but, well, they were looking after you now, weren’t they? So it wasn’t all that bad.
"Good job, pup," Ghost said fondly, ruffling Johnny's hair. "Captain's gonna love 'er."
"How do you lads want to play it?" Gaz asked. "Could go in tonight. Won’t take much to knock her out, pack up her things, take her to the cabin. Get her nice and situated for when Price gets back."
"No point in waitin', is there?" Ghost asked. "Nice she's on the ground floor. Makes takin' 'er things easier. I'll go round 'n' check the windows in a bit. Should wait till after midnight. Don't want to be spotted by the neighbours."
"No' much risk o' tha'," Soap said. "Knocked over a bunch of bins last I was here and the cunts didna even turn on a light. Just the bonnie thing worryin’ while the rest of ‘em sleep sound."
Gaz lit a cigarette, nodding thoughtfully. "Small apartment too. Is there much to move?"
Soap shook his head. "Nah, no' much. Sweet girl lives simply. I told ye, she's perfect for the captain. He'll be able to spoil the fuck out of her, once she's broken in, aye?"
"Know 'e'll like that. Man needs a wife to dote on. ‘e’s been goin’ a bit crazy, all alone. An' 'e can train'er up nice."
"Think he might share?" Gaz asked wistfully, exhaling a stream of thin smoke as he sighed. "Nice soft girl like that-- Plenty to go around."
Ghost laughed. "Thought we'd 'ave trouble gettin' Johnny to keep 'is 'ands to 'imself, and you're the one droolin'."
"Scuse me for having eyes, mate. Just think she looks sweet."
"We'll get to see first 'and soon.” Ghost clapped him on the shoulder. “Come on lads. Let's get ready."
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You wake up on the hard metal floor of a moving vehicle, your pounding head cradled in someone's hands. That's what you notice first, and the thumbs rubbing circles against your neck soothingly.
It has the opposite effect. Your eyes fly open.
“Hi, bonnie,” a somewhat familiar face grins down at you, blue eyes smiling, but too intense, glittering in the low light that filters in from the windows at the front of the truck. “How’s yer head?”
You grimace, trying to make sense of what’s going on around you. The back of the van seems to be filled with boxes. “Aren’t you Finn and Rory’s uncle?”
“Aw, ye remember me? Knew ye were a sweetheart.”
You try to sit up, but Johnny puts a strong hand on your shoulder and keeps you where you are. Your head feels too heavy to try and fight him, your muscles weak. “What’s going on?” you ask. “What— Is this a kidnapping?”
“Tha’s an ugly word, bonnie. We’re doin’ ye a favour, really. Settin’ ye up with someone respectable. Captain’ll take good care of ye.” He pats your cheek. “Whyna get back to sleep? Still a ways to go, aye?”
Maybe it’s just a bad, weird dream. You do feel foggy, like you’re not fully attached to your body, and keeping your eyes open is a struggle. You’ll wake up back in your own bed, and have a funny story to tell if you ever bump into Johnny again. He’s definitely too nice to be a kidnapper, right? Like, people don’t really do that sort of thing. It has to be a dream.
“Okay,” you mumble, letting your eyes close again.
As you suspected, you wake up again in bed. The headache’s receded some, and there’s warm sunlight streaming in through the windows. You bury your face into the pillows, and then bolt upright. The pillow smells weird, like sweet tobacco and spice, and you don’t get morning sun in your bedroom. The window faces a brick wall across a narrow alley.
The room you’re in now is not your room. It’s sparsely furnished, just a dresser under the window and the bed you’re tucked into, and two doors, one that’s clearly a closet, and one that must lead out into the rest of the… house? Judging by the sound of birdsong outside, you’re out of the city.
You pad to the window and look out. There’s a van in the driveway, and three men carrying things in. One of them looks up and spots you in the window, waving cheerfully.
Not a dream. Fear grips you, ice sliding down your spine, shards settling in your stomach, needling and uncomfortable. Your sinuses prickle like you’re about to cry, but no tears come. You’re too dehydrated to summon them. It’s hard to tell how long you’ve been out— It’s fully daylight outside, but you have no idea what time. A second look around the room finds a digital clock sitting on the nightstand, 3:05 glaring back at you in red.
There’s a knock on the door, and it pushes open. The man who walks in is handsome, smiling at you so beautifully that your automatic response is to try and smile back, although you feel that it’s flimsy, unsure. There’s no chance that this man is here to help you, but you at least hope he’s not here to hurt you either.
“How’re you feeling?” he asks. His voice is as pleasant as his face is, smooth and cheerful, although it makes you wary about him on principle. “You hungry?”
You shake your head. It’s not true, but you can’t trust that there wouldn’t be drugs in anything they give you.
“Well, come on downstairs, hm? Get some water at least. Maybe a tea?”
Your stomach churns. “I might be sick,” you manage to squeak out. He quickly ushers you out into the hall and into a bathroom. You don’t make it to the toilet, but you do manage to make it to the sink. If you had a little more fire in you, you might have tried to vomit bile onto the pretty man’s shoes, but it’s hard to shake the instinct to be good, not to make any trouble, to hope that they’ll just let you go. You’re not even sure what they want. You have no family to ransom, you don’t have any money to speak of, you’re just a fat little ex-nanny still paying off an English Literature degree from a second-rate college.
You turn on the sink to wash away the sick, and rinse your mouth out. Your hands start shaking when you realize your toothbrush is sitting in the holder next to the sink, like it belongs there. Your makeup bag is sitting on the counter too, and when you look down, you realize you’re standing on your own bathmat, taken from your home and arranged here, as if effects from your own house are supposed to make you feel comfortable. You look at your reflection in the mirror, and then at the man still standing in the doorway, his brown eyes all concern, as if he wasn’t party to a fucking nightmare.
You straighten up, gripping the counter to steady yourself. “What the hell is this?” you ask, trying to inject some authority into your quaking voice. “Who are you? What do you want from me?”
“I’m Gaz. Nice to meet you. Johnny had lots of nice things to say about you.”
So that hadn’t been a dream either. You look around the room desperately, looking for anything that could possibly be used as a weapon, but Gaz seems to know exactly what you’re doing, and he steps into your space quickly to grab your hands.
“None of that. Come on. You’ll feel better after a tea, yeah? Then you can get ready to meet the captain.”
He leads you downstairs. Questions spin around your head, but you’re not sure if it’s worth asking. Gaz only bothered to respond to one of the three you’ve asked so far, and it wasn’t the one that you were most interested in an answer to. So you stay quiet instead, taking in the layout of the big room. A front door and a back door, and windows that look out onto a forest on one side of the property, and more forest on the other side, beyond a large cleared space with a neat garden and a few fruit trees. There’s a second building that you can just see the corner of from the kitchen window, more likely a garage than a neighbour.
Gaz backs you up against the counter and leans down slightly, his hands gripping your thighs. You panic, the touch surprising you, and slap him across the face. The sharp sound makes you freeze, like it wasn’t you that had done it. He takes advantage of your surprise to shove you up onto the counter and grab both your hands with one of his, all the friendliness draining our of his eyes in an instant as he points a scolding finger at you. You feel like you’ve done something naughty that you’re not fully aware of the implications of yet, a badly trained dog or a child. “I’m going to let that one slide, because I understand that this is a big change for you. But you’re not going to like what happens if you try that again, understood?”
You nod quickly, your own eyes wide. “I-I’m sorry,” you say, the instinct for appeasement rearing it’s skittish little head.
And then the smile returns, as pretty as before, storm clouds blowing away as though they’d never been there to begin with. “It’s alright, doll. Just don’t do it again. And definitely don’t try that attitude on with the captain.” He taps the pointing finger against your nose playfully, and lets your hands drop back into your lap.
The rules seem simple enough. Be good and sweet, and get friendly faces in return, to a degree. No matter how cooperative you are, you doubt they’re going to let you go home. Fighting back means consequences, and you’re not sure how far those consequences will extend. If you’re too much trouble, it’s not a stretch to imagine that they’ll just kill you outright and try again with a meeker woman. You don’t yet know if death would be the more preferable outcome.
You pull your sweater down over your thighs. The black zip-up hoodie isn’t yours (the word Riley is stitched onto the front of it), but it’s big, and even though it smells faintly of cigarettes, it affords you at least a little modesty and comfort, more than the tank top and the sleep-shorts you’re wearing underneath do. Riley must be the third man. Was he the captain? Or was there a fourth one somewhere?
Johnny comes through the door carrying your suitcases, and he grins widely when he sees you, the charming, boyish one that you’d thought was handsome before. It’s only unnerving now. “Didja have a good sleep, bonnie?”
“You drugged me,” you accuse.
“Weel, of course. You were no’ goan ta come all peaceable, and LT wouldna be patient if ye were cryin’ the whole way here.” He trots upstairs, and you can hear him drop the bags with a thump, before he’s clattering back down the steps and leaning against the counter next to you. “How’d’ye like yer new home, bonnie? S’a nice place, aye? Better than tha’ little shoebox back in the city.”
“I like my apartment,” you protest.
“Psh, ye’d say tha’. Puttin’ on a brave face since yer such a good girl. But it wasna verra safe, was it? No’ a single neighbour paid us any mind while we were loadin’ up yer things. No’ a good place for a single girl, aye?” He reaches out and puts a big hand on your knee, squeezing lightly. “Now ye’ll be taken care of, like ye should be.”
“I don’t want to be taken care of.”
“Nonsense. Ye’ll be glad, once ye get used to things. Already looks real homey in here, don’t ye think?” He gestures at the living room.
You twist to look, and your stomach sinks. Your throw pillows are on the couch, one of the afghans you crocheted hanging over the back of it. You recognize the titles of your books on the shelves. These men were nothing if not thorough, surgically removing your entire life and transplanting it to this house in the woods, with it’s wood panel walls and big, overstuffed leather couches.
He continues blithely, like he’s not delivering some of the most horrifying news you’ve ever heard. “Most of your furniture’s in the garage, ye can sort tha’ out with Price, aye? But we brought all yer clothes and decorations and whatnot in. Figure ye should wear tha’ pretty black sundress, an’ those long stockin’s with the clippy belt, ye ken the one? Cap’ll like those.”
They’d been through all your things. If you had anything left to throw up, you might’ve again. Gaz sets a glass of water on the counter next to you. “How d’you take your tea, doll?”
“Milk, two sugars,” Johnny answers for you. “Our sweet lass has a sweet tooth, aye?”
“How do you know that?” You can hear the quiver in your voice, and it doesn’t slip by either of them.
“Come oan, hen, ye ken I didna jus’ pick ye off the street. Did my research. Wouldna pick just anyone for the captain.”
“When he said he’d found the perfect girl, we didn’t believe him at first,” Gaz says, leaning against the counter on the other side of the kitchen while the tea steeps. “But Ghost and I knew he was right, soon as we saw you.” He nods at the glass. “Drink your water. You haven’t had anything since last night.”
“Is it drugged?” you ask flatly.
“No, want ye awake for when Price gets here. Yer a real cute thing asleep, but we want him ta hear yer pretty voice and see that smile, aye?” Johnny reaches past you and picks up the glass of water, taking a big swig to demonstrate it’s harmlessness.
You take a careful sip when he hands it back to you, and then another, resisting the urge to just gulp the whole thing down. The door opens again, and the biggest man you’ve seen in your life walks in, wearing a black t-shirt and a mask with the jaw of a skull printed on it, pulled up over the lower half of his face. He looks at you dispassionately, and then at Gaz and Johnny. “What the ‘ell have you two muppets been sayin’ to the poor thing?” he asks, his voice rumbling like an avalanche. “She looks like she’s gonna faint.”
“Figure she’s just peaky,” Gaz says defensively. “I’m making her tea.”
The big guy swats Johnny’s hand away from your knee impatiently, and cages you in against the counter, one huge arm on either side of you. “How’re you feelin’ bird? Be honest.”
“Terrified,” you admit.
He chuckles. “Sensible, considerin’. But you don’t need to worry, olright? No one’s gonna hurt you, so long as you’re good. And you want to be good, don’t you, bird?”
You nod. You’d thought Gaz and Johnny were big, but this one’s huge, broad and tall and even scarier. It’s clear why they started off introducing themselves to you in the order they did. If this man had been the first thing you’d seen after waking up you probably would have gone into hysterics.
“Use your words, pet.”
“I want to be good,” you say obediently, because you don’t see any other options, at least for the moment.
“Good girl,” he says, and there’s the slightest hint of a smile in his dark eyes.
Somehow, this is the most comforting thing that you’ve experienced all day. You won’t be hurt if you’re good, and you are being good.
He pushes back from the counter slightly, giving you more space, takes the mug of tea from Gaz, and hands it off to you. “Small sips,” he instructs. “And maybe a biscuit, if you think you can keep it down.”
“Are you the captain?” you ask nervously, gripping the mug with two hands.
“Hm? No. ‘e’s still about an hour out. I’m Simon. Ghost to these two.” He fishes an open package of biscuits out of the cupboard and sets them next to you. “Once you finish your tea, we’ll get you ready. Want to make a good first impression, right bird?”
“Not really,” you admit. “I’d like to go home.”
He laughs, at least finding your honesty amusing. “That won’t be ‘appenin’. If Price dun’t want you, I’ll keep you myself. But I’ll tell you right now, you’ll like Price better. If you’re good for him, he’ll be real good to you, understood?”
You bite your tongue. It won’t do you any good to point out that a man that would accept a person as a gift is probably not capable of being good to anyone. Good is subjective, and the three men in front of you are lunatics. Their captain probably has the slightest bit stronger a grasp on his sanity, or a consistent moral code, if not a particularly righteous one. So you just keep your mouth shut, and drink your tea, and eat two chocolate digestives while Gaz and Johnny start collecting things to make dinner.
As soon as you set your empty mug to the side Ghost pops you down from the counter and ushers you upstairs with a big hand placed a little too low on your back. He tells you what to wear (down to the lingerie), but blessedly doesn’t insist on watching you get dressed. He does sit on the edge of the tub and watch you put on makeup, however, requesting red lipstick and winged eyeliner. Your hands are still a little shaky, but you manage to do as he asks. His eyes smile at you just a little when you’re obedient. You feel pathetic for not making a fuss, but you’re not sure what you can possibly do, except something stupid that will make them angry enough to hurt you.
He helps you into a pair of strappy red heels that had been languishing in the back of your closet before they dug everything out, and straightens the seam of your stockings, running his big hands up your calves. It’s like you’re a doll, dressed just how he wants, something to look pretty and say less than nothing, a gift for some other man you’ve never met to keep on a shelf.
Or worse, to play with.
You hear Johnny and Gaz greet someone downstairs, their voices loud and excited, and your heart skips nervously.
Ghost rises to his feet, smiling so big you can see it even with the mask. “Wait right here, pet,” he says firmly, leaving you sitting on the edge of the bed while he goes off to greet his captain. “Want to introduce you proper.”
So you sit, and you wait, shaking and nervous, for what feels like eternity, until you hear Simon’s surprisingly light footfalls on the stairs again. He offers you a hand, and hoists you over his shoulder as soon as you’re on your feet, carrying you down into the living room.
“We all pitched in,” Gaz says, as casually as if he meant throwing in five dollars for a card. “But she was Soap’s idea.”
“Picked ‘er out special, Cap,” Johnny says. “She’s perfect for ye.”
“She?” an unfamiliar voice asks. “Don’t tell me you got me a dog.”
“Better than that, skipper.” Ghost laughs as he circles around the couch, and drops you carefully into the man’s lap, stepping into line with the other two. “We got you a wife.”
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I've been low-key thinking about this concept since I read ohbo-ohno's Don't Leave Me Locked in Your Heart a while back (If you haven't read and you like a good dark fic, you should click that link, you may enjoy it). I think getting someone a person as a gift, or being given as a gift, rather, is a fun fucked up fantasy to explore. I'm not entirely sure where I'll take this but I promise to put in content warnings. Let me know if I miss something, I don't want anyone to be surprised by what they find!
Image Credits: Banner
Dividers: 1 - 2 - 3 by @/Cafekitsune
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