#Trying to wake up a little before I need to to go to bed but this day off was so nice

[luveline]

Hi Jade! (I’ve sent this before so ignore if you aren’t into it) just thinking about a bau!reader (maybe shy!reader??) who’s dating post-prison Spencer but didn’t know him before prison and she sees some footage of season one Spencer (maybe they need to refer to a recording of a previous case?) and she’s just dying at how cute he is 🥹

You’ve barely woken up with your face in a solid shoulder when Spencer’s turning around.

“Don’t,” he says when you whine, slipping a familiar hand over your hip. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Too early to make fun of me.” 

“Do you think I’m making fun of you?” 

His talking warms your nose where his head is angled down. Your skin smarts with goosebumps as he trails his hand lightly up your back, down again, the slowest, tumbling touch. You shiver, and Spencer, ever so slightly devious in love, says, “Oh, you’re cold?” with great pity as he pulls you closer. 

You rub your face against his shoulder. “Sorry.” 

“Why?”

“I smell.” 

He hums. “Sort of. Not like sweat, though. You smell like sleep.” His lips touch your cheek.

He lets you ‘warm up’ in his arms for a few minutes, then however long you doze for, lost and too comfortable to bother even trying to wake up properly. Your phone pings a couple of times after it comes out of sleep mode, a sure sign you’ve overslept, but Spencer doesn’t make you move until your stomach growls. 

“Come on,” he says, kissing your nose and slipping you back onto your side of the bed. “I’ll make breakfast.” 

“It’s nearly twelve.” 

“You just woke up, and it’s the first thing you’re gonna eat. You are breaking your fast. Breakfast.” He looks pretty even through achy, tired eyes, all the sleep crusted in your lashes no match for Spencer Reid. How you went so long without knowing him is a mystery. 

You get up only because he told you to and because he looked quite lovely when he did it, not because you want to. The bed is warm, that pit of his arms calling your name, but Spencer’s already rolling out of bed with an eager hand scratching through his hair. Sweat has made them tight and a little darker in the back. You’ll both have to shower at some point, preferably after he’s made you breakfast in bed. 

He can see your expectations on your face, and he laughs as he pulls a t-shirt on over his head. “Get up! I’m not bringing it up here, do you know how badly your sleep cycle is affected when you start doing the wrong things in bed?” 

“What counts as the wrong thing?” 

Spencer laughs again, softer now, and for a moment he traces your face with his eyes without speaking. “Fine,” he says, waving a hand at you as he makes for the bedroom door, “stay there. But only ‘cos you look so pretty!” 

“Thank you!” you call back. 

This time with Spencer isn’t enough. You need ten more years of this, thirty, fifty, you need to wake up in his arms and have him touch you and tickle your cheek with his breath. He’s too far to have him come back, so you resign to hugging him when he returns. 

Your phone pings again, drawing your attention finally. The first notification is a reminder to buy toothpaste today at the grocery store. The second is a text from a friend, the third an email. It’s one from last night that piques your interest, another friend, full capital letters: HELP. 

Her use of a laughing emoji defers any urgency. You click on the text thread and scroll up, puzzled by her previous messages, a link, and a caption: oh my god he was so dorky??? 

You open the video and feel your breath catch in surprise. 

Is that Spencer?

You're not stupid, you’ve seen photos of him and his friends together dotted around the apartment from over the years, and every time you come across that photo of him and Diana at a spelling bee with his huge black-framed glasses you have to laugh, but it’s different seeing him to hearing him. 

He’s so nervous. You can’t understand what it is he’s saying, something about mathematical components to profiling criminals. Jason Gideon stands in the background watching him closely. 

“There’s actually a good joke that–”

“Spencer,” Gideon reprimands. 

You watch in awe as Spencer stammers an apology, his cheeks a little pink. You’ve seen Spencer blush, but this feels different. He looks so young. His hair is straight as a pin. 

“Spencer, did you used to straighten your hair?” you call, hoping he can hear you over the sound of a frying pan popping in the kitchen. “Or do you have a perm now, or what?” 

“What!” 

“I’m confused on the logistics of your hair!” You feel something weird in your chest as on screen Spencer tucks a stray strand of hair behind his ear. It’s a mixture of wanting to eat him and wanting to reach through the screen to stroke his cheek with your thumb. 

Spencer treks back into the bedroom with his pink and white pinstripe apron over his shirt and sweatpants. He smells like cinnamon sugar already. “What are you talking about?” 

“My friend found a video of you and Jason at one of those lectures you did.” 

Spencer presses his lips together. For a moment, he doesn’t speak. “I didn’t do any lectures.”

“Uh, yes you did, liar, and you looked so cute.” You turn your phone to him. “So sweet.” 

He marches to the bed. Before you can stop him, he’s taking the phone from your hand, giving you the world's silliest, tiniest shove when you try to get it back. 

“Cruel,” you quip. 

Spencer stares at the phone screen, then you, “Sorry,” he says, turning pink, “I don’t know why I did that, just– I just–” He frowns deeply. “Can you stop smiling like that?” 

You climb onto your knees, a morning disaster, but when you wrap your arms around Spencer’s waist he looks at you like you’re perfect. His eyes soften, brows relaxing, his irises like dark dimes that slowly dilate as he looks you over. Your phone presses into your back, his arm wrapping around you. 

“You were adorable,” you say sincerely. 

“Not anymore?” 

You rub your cheek against his apron. “No, you still are. Let me watch the video again.” 

“Not a chance.” 

[seungfl0wer]

*Daddy Chan*

Daddy Series:

Bangchan | Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin | Han | Felix | Seungmin | Jeongin

Contains Smut:

A/N: I could have kept going with this and yes it’s already long. But like- Chans the definition of this series ok? 😂

-💜

•He’s just in his element.

•If any of them have a daddy thing it’s 100% him.

•He treats you like a princess.

•Spoils the fuck out of you.

•Gets grumpy when you try and pay for anything because how dare you.

•He’s such a gentleman.

•You’ll never have to open your own doors.

•He enjoys taking long showers together and after

•He loves having you sit infront of him brushing your hair for you.

•Matching outfits, matching jewelry.

•He’s so easy to talk to too.

•If you’re having a bad day, you know you can just curl up with him and cry.

•He’s great at consoling you when anything happens.

•Holding you tightly to him as he reminds you about how amazing you are.

•He’s super clingy honestly.

•If you’re with him he’s always gotta be touching you in some way.

•Hand holding, Legs touching. Something.

•You keep him more grounded than you probably know.

•He finds almost anything you do super cute.

•Oh this man just gets all cheesy when you’re pouting. Finds it so fucking cute.

•Definitely doesn’t have a whole folder of songs for your birthday or anniversary.

•You’re literally like a fire to him and he’s the moth.

•It’s really hard to ever really really upset him.

•He’s pretty level headed.

•Most days if you’re being grumpy or cranky he’ll sit with you asking what’s the matter and how he can help.

•If you’re giving him attitude almost always he can make you stop with just that look.

•He has the habit of telling you way to sweetly “fix your attitude princess or I’ll have to fix it for you. Be good for daddy”

•He’s really to soft, but when he needs to be stern he does it in a way that still makes you feel so safe.

•He’s really just a safe space. You’ll never feel like your emotions are too much with him.

•He constantly will reassure you.

•He sends you such loving messages too, long paragraphs of why he loves you.

•Never not having a good morning or good night text. Even if you just got off the phone.

•It feels like taboo to him not too.

•He’s not a super jealous type, but he’s protective.

•He knows you love him so much, your eyes never leaving his.

•But how can he trust others when you’re just so cute.

•He’ll hover over you when you’re out sometimes. Like he’s waiting. Ready to attack anyone who dares upset him princess.

•Constantly hugs yous tightly burring himself into you saying “mine” cutely.

•He’s really just wrapped around your finger and he’s fine with that.

ੈ♡˳Smut Below

•He has almost 2 personality’s.

•The super sweet loving one where he wants to take it so slow.

•He’ll eat you out for hours making sure you cum before you even fuck.

•He talks so much. He talks you through it 100%.

•He makes just as much noises as you do tbh.

•He’s a missionary lover for sure.

•Always wanting to see your pretty face. Plus how else is he gonna kiss you?

•He’s just so sensual and passionate.

•Other times he- can just lose himself.

•Stressful day? He’s having you on your knees while he face fucks you.

•He’s definitely into free use with you especially waking you up with head or his dick just slowly pushing into you.

•All with complete consent. He’ll never do anything without asking you prier and establishing boundaries.

•Has a safe word and does the color system.

•He can get ahead of himself sometimes. Losing it with you.

•Pushing your face into the bed fucking you like he hates you.

•Those beautiful hands of his leaving bright red hand prints on your ass.

•Or wrapped around your neck like a choker. He also really enjoys having you suck his fingers.

•Breeding kink. Breeding kink. Breeding kink.

•He’s also somehow so good at degrading you while making it sound so- sweet?

•”My dirty little princess, you’re soaked just from kissing?”

•He has one of those machines that can fuck you while he’s not home. And of course a custom made dildo that is a mold of his cock.

•Loves FaceTiming you while on tour guiding you through your orgasm.

•Always teases you and doesn’t let you cum at first. Not until you’re begging well enough.

•This man is also team remote vibe.

•He just thinks it’s so damn adorable watching you squirm while you’re out.

•He’s not much better though. He can’t keep his hands to himself.

•Could be having dinner out and he’s gonna be knuckles deep into your sopping hole till he can’t handle it.

•100%. Fucks you infront of mirrors. Not only so you can watch how well he fucks you.

•But so he can tell you things like “look how beautiful you are when you’re cumming around my cock”

•Like I said he’s definitely a talker so something’s he says are:

•”Daddy’s gonna fill you so full princess. I’m gonna fuck you till I know you’re pregnant.”

•”Don’t you run from me, I’m not done with you yet”

•”God it’s like you were made to take my cock princess.”

•”Daddy loves you, love you so fucking much.”

•And one of his favorites “you say you can’t take it anymore but you’re pretty hole is telling me she wants more”

•King of aftercare.

•On days he goes a little harder he’s making sure you know he loves you.

•He has you wrapped in his arms while he talks to you.

•Likes to sing to you to calm you down from intense orgasms.

•Warm baths with candles, and snacks.

•Kinda like Minho he puts one of his hoodies in the dryer for you.

•Making sure it smells like him before he wraps you in the warmth.

•You’re basically trapped for a while because he just wants to hold you.

•He really loves you and he wants to make sure you always know that.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan @lunearta @velvetmoonlght @minghaosimp @ldysmfrst @felixleftchickennugget @0omillo0 @jellymochii @stilltrynafuckingtumble @catlove83 @delulkpopstan143 @hyunjins-orange-slice-too

[sayangrafayel]

How would they react waking up to you dancing and singing in the kitchen in your pajamas while making breakfast?

This was a request by anon! I am so happy when I receive requests (you just need to be patient because I am slow af), but here we go!

Sylus, Xavier, Rafayel, Xavier, Caleb.

Sylus

Come on. We all know he's the "leaning on the doorframe admiring you from behind" type, 100%.

His heart feels full. The fact that you are in his kitchen. In your pajamas. Singing and dancing. Making breakfast. FOR HIM. AGAIN, IN HIS KITCHEN, makes him all giddy.

"Good morning, Sweetie." "Sylus! You scared me!"

Hums along with you, you love his voice. It doesn't matter if he doesn't hit the right notes. You'd prefer his out of tune singing voice over anything else.

Xavier

Sleepily waddled into the kitchen. He hates waking up without you by his side, but he's happy hearing your singing voice and seeing your little dance.

Leans on the kitchen counter "What are you making? Can I help? I want to help." "No.."

You distract him by asking him to dance along with you.

Anything to steer him away from the oven and the stove. You didn't feel like eating a burnt pancake for breakfast... again... for the fourth time... this week.

Rafayel

Jolted up as soon as he didn't feel you when he reached for your side of the bed. But immediately breathed a sigh of relief when he hears music from the kitchen.

He wants to pretend to sulk but you're just too cute with your bed head and pajamas, so he opts to rest his chin on your shoulder.

"Cutie.. you know I hate it when you get out of bed without waking me up."

Sleepily humming to the song playing, "I love this song."

Zayne

I'm so sorry but he's gonna wake up before you. It's just in his blood. No matter what he'll automatically wake up as soon as the sun hits the room.

Making breakfast together with him in your pajamas, singing and dancing together is still fun! You both cherish this routine, given your busy daily schedules.

No work talk. No nagging. Just a very domestic dynamic, two lovers spending quality time.

"I really love this raspberry jam we made!" "Me too. Maybe we can try making a blueberry one this weekend."

Caleb

OKAY IMAGINE COOKING BREAKFAST AT HIS PLACE. Honestly I think I love his place most.. ok anyways,

You think you woke up before him? No you didn't. He woke up first and stayed in bed to watch you. When you stir awake, he closed his eyes and pretended to sleep.

You got out of bed and start preparing breakfast with your favorite song as your company. Not long after, he joins you in the kitchen and took over.

"How about I continue making the breakfast?" "But I want to make you a breakfast! It's been so long since I cooked for you, Caleb!" "Since when have you ever cooked for me? Plus I'm happy to do this. You can pay me with unlimited affection and your song and dance."

[shouyuus]

could i request car mechanic!vi and fem!reader hcs and little moments of their daily life now that they’re officially dating? 🤭🤭 you write vi so wellll nghghhh 😫

sfw fluffy hcs for car mechanic!vi au bulletpoints bc im in that mood today

breakfast is always a long, drawn out thing -- almost ritualistic, bc "breakfast is the most important meal of the day, sweets! c'mon, you oughtta know that." and you take turns making it, either for each other or for whoever else is in the house that day (sometimes vander, sometimes silco will drop by for coffee, sometimes powder and ekko will stay the night, in which case ekko almost always makes breakfast, bc powder's very particular about her pancakes)

you can't rmbr the last time you sat in a chair proper bc vi's always pulling you into her lap (except at the dinner table, where she tries to show a TAD more decorum, esp if you're having dinner at your place instead of hers, but even then, she'd pull her chair close to yours, just so she can press her leg against yours or reach out to put a palm on your thigh)

on the days that you're not together, you definitely text vi a bit more -- she's got her hands full of repairs, and your biggest worry on the daily is what you wanna make for dinner that day, and if you need to drop by the grocery store before you head over to vi's

the first time you try to teach vi how to use chopsticks, you end up just plopped in her lap, feeding her off your plate bc she claims that "it's easier this way" and that she can "watch your technique better from up close" although it's so stupidly obvious that she's not looking at your hands bc she can't keep her eyes off your lips and how you can't stop giggling when you twist around to feed her

on the lazy summer nights when all the work has been done and all the stuff that can still be done can wait till tomorrow, vi takes you up the hill behind the city, to her favorite little outlook, tucked into the side of a backroad that no one except the true locals know about -- from there, you can see the entire city spread out beneath you, sprawling net, cast in light and shattered stars. "i used to hate this place... just a little, cause i thought i'd never get out of it," she tells you. "and now?" you ask. "now... i kinda love it... it's my home and... well, it gave me you, didn't it?"

vi thanks the heavens that you only live a few streets over, and that it takes her about 5 minutes on her bike to get between your houses (even though, yeah, you do technically live on the rich side of town, just across the train tracks), bc sometimes, 5 minutes is just about as long as she can wait before she starts to feel fidgety about the thought of seeing you again

the nights she spends at yours are always fun -- your bed's more than big enough for the pair of you to sprawl out on; you'd flick through channels on tv till something catches your eye, or carry as many snacks as either of you can up and post up for a movie marathon. it'd always end up with one of you lying against the other, your body curled between her legs or the other way around

sometimes she falls asleep against you, and you'd let the entire movie play before trying to slip out from behind her to turn off the lights. she always wakes up when you move, and she always grumbles and tries to pull you back; you always laugh and promise her that you'll be right back, to which she'd always pout but it morphs into a smile as she watches you patter around the room in a big t-shirt, turning off the lights and clearing the snacks off the bed before climbing back into her arms

she always keeps her hand tucked around your hip whenever the two of you go out anywhere, or she's got her hand pushed into the back pocket of your jeans or shorts or whatever the hell else; she claims its just bc she wants you close; you both know that it's also bc she wants zero questions as to who you belong to when you're walking down the street

when her hair gets long in the back, she lets you braid it and in it up with cute lil clips bc she likes the way it makes you smile

she almost loses it a little when she wakes up one day at yours and finds that you've put out an extra cup for her, and bought her a new toothbrush to use; it's then that she realizes she's already left like a quarter of her wardrobe here and that your parents no longer even look up when she comes downstairs in the morning, bedhead and all, to greet them, and that they've somehow always already made coffee for her, just the way she likes

"hey prett girl, can i ask you something?" "yeah, sure." "what... do you think about moving in together?" "hm? oh --" "not like right this moment or anything but --" "i'd love to. i mean, it does get a little complicated splitting time between my place and yours." "oh... that was -- i thought you'd be a bit more..." vi swallows, trailing off. you cock your head and fix her with a look, "a bit more what? hesitant? i mean... we're basically together all the time now anyway. it'd just make things easier, right? and --" a blush flushes into your cheeks as you look away, clearing your throat, "it'd -- it'd be nice not to have to be so q-quiet, sometimes."

vi nearly blacks out at your words; and yeah, so what if she starts looking at places that exact afternoon?

[yandere-sins]

Hey! I loved your yandere!konig and ghost when their darling runs away. But how would they react if they're darling broke out. But couldn't bring themselves to go farther than 10 - 20 feet away. Cause if their anxiety of leaving the cabin?

Ah, the sweet, sweet betrayal of the own mind, I like that :D Thanks for requesting!

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

"Come on... Come on! Yes!"

With a sharp click, the front door unlocked. The wooden cabin creaked as if warning you to stay, but you were up and outside before you could even think to listen. For weeks, you had worked towards this moment, and as the taste of freedom—earthy like the forest that surrounded the lonesome cabin—caressed your senses, a big smile curled the corners of your mouth upwards.

Day after day, you had swallowed your pride, nodded, and agreed. Laid still next to your captor in bed at night and listened to his footsteps whenever he returned, hoping they'd pass by your bedroom. The first few weeks had been the worst, with you still shackled and panicked, the masked man telling you to behave at every outburst of yours. But how could you?

It took a lot of time until he trusted you enough to let you freely walk around the secluded cabin. It wasn't without punishments as you tried to escape so many times before, until your feet were bloody from his knife and your wrists sore from the restraints he put you back in, but you learned your lessons. Listened to him. Obeyed him. Waited like a good little spouse a few steps away from the entrance whenever he returned. Enough so that he started trusting you.

Enough so that he grew careless.

Ghost, he called himself. It wasn't the most accurate description as he was tall and burly, not exactly haggard. His skeleton mask could be frightening; that much was true. As was his strength and the ruthless use of force to cause you pain and torture you. It was hard to get to this point of him letting his guard down, and you figured pretty quickly that he wasn't just some random man; all his senses were sharp, and his actions were skilled as if he was trained for this. Ghost was lines of muscles and scars all over his body. He was a human predator as far as you could see, but it made his weakness glaringly obvious;

You.

Because the moment you cuddled up to him, his tense posture grew slack, his arms gentle around you, his hands massaging you as if you were a fragile being. When you asked for something, he'd simply say, "We'll see," but would return with it after his next grocery run without needing a reminder. Meals were always cooked the way you wanted, and the heater was always set to the temperature you decided on. Even if he insisted on sleeping next to you, he let you have his blanket if you stole it at night. You'd constantly wake up to him gently rubbing your back whenever you accidentally laid on top of him at night.

It was a gamble to try and make him careless. You couldn't be sure it would work. However, you still worked towards your goal every day, pretending to get along with him, slowly falling into a routine he could get used to without letting him find out you were merely playing him. And now, finally, it had paid off.

Mud and grass had never felt better beneath the soles of your shoes as you stepped down the porch and onto the forest ground. Freeing and inviting—alive. Compared to the outside, the air inside the cabin had been terribly stale, and the building made of wood weighed down on your mood. Here, you finally felt in control of your life and closer than ever to escaping the nightmare!

There was barely anything around besides the dense treeline in front of you. A stump with an axe rested on the right corner of the cabin, but there was no path, no signs of a car or any way out, meaning what Ghost had told you about the cabin being far away from any other living soul must have been true.

Your heart sunk a little at the realization. You had seen the forest through the windows, but the ones showing the front had always been boarded shut. It gave you hope that there was something you weren't supposed to see or know, but you realized now that it was to keep uninvited eyes out should anyone stumble across the cabin instead.

So where were you supposed to go? There were trees on the left and trees on the right. Undoubtedly, more forest awaited you behind the cabin, so your only chance was to go forward. Looking at the ground, you tried to find Ghost's footsteps, any indication that this was the right way, but despite his hefty stature, you found none that could lead you.

You were on your own.

"Nothing wrong with that," you muttered to yourself, curling your hands into fists before saying a quick pep-talk. Surely, you'd find back to civilization once you fought your way through the forest. You were well-fed and clothed, had slept a full ten hours last night, and were young enough to take one or two days trekking through the thicket easily. The thought made you nervous regardless, but everything would be fine. You just had to get going so as to not get caught by the man who was trying to ruin your life with his fantasies.

Frankly, any fate awaiting you outside was better than staying at the cabin with him.

Taking your first steps, you felt your pulse quicken, your nostrils expanding to let more air into your lungs. You knew you couldn't afford to overthink things. There simply wasn't enough time. Ghost stayed away for two hours whenever he went out, and you had struggled to open the high-security lock on the front door that stood out like a sore spot against the wood. It took you months to find out what you needed to do and prepare everything for this moment—you couldn't afford to waste your efforts now.

Months, huh? It had been so long since you'd been under people. This forest wasn't familiar to you in the slightest, but you've been to forests before. This was just another one that would surely end in a town or at least a street. Hopefully, someone would believe you when you were found and help you. You didn't even have anything to verify yourself with.

But it didn't matter, surely your family had reported you as missing! It had been too long since you last spoke, even if you weren't in contact regularly. They would have noticed you being gone!

Right?

You felt your throat constrict as you swallowed down the doubt. "It's all his fault," you cursed through shallow breaths, wrapping your arm around yourself in an effort to calm down. Ghost had been putting all these thoughts inside your head, and you were merely reaping the fruits of his manipulation now. It was unfair, but you were stronger than this! You'd not allow him to continue to hold you hostage, his ill-willed comments meaningless since he clearly wasn't sane.

"There are dangerous animals out there. Big ones."

You remembered thinking, 'Where the fuck did he take me?' when you first heard him tell you about the outside of the cabin. You obviously weren't in your hometown anymore, where the biggest animal was a freaking squirrel.

"He's just messing with you," you bit out, banishing your own thoughts. Even now, that psycho held way too much power over you, his words and warnings repeating over and over as your doubts and anxiety grew. If only you made it to the tree line, you'd probably be able to convince yourself that there was nothing more dangerous than Ghost out there. Moving forward, your knees wobbled when you were barely two steps away from the edge of the clearing.

But what if it was him coming for you again?

"I'll always find you," you remembered him continuing as he told you about the animals while he softly played with your hair, the distant sound of rain thrumming on the roof enveloping the otherwise reigning silence in the cabin. "Won't let any of these wankers 'urt you. I'll make them piss right off, you're mine."

He'd be gone for a while. If he could track out of the forest, go shopping, and come back in about two hours, you could do the same and find help on the way. He'd first had to come back and notice you were gone before even starting to look for you. By then, you'd be long gone.

It wasn't like you were going to run straight into his arms by going this way, right? Shivering, you remembered the pain of when he cut your soles with his knife for daring to make a run for the door the first time Ghost let you "off the leash". The way it hurt every time he forced you to walk to the bathroom on your own, and how you barely made it while he stood above you, clicking his tongue at the bloody footsteps you left on the floor. You remembered the harsh cold and huddling in the corner of the basement, naked in the darkness, until Ghost showed you mercy, allowing you back into his arms after leaving you there for who-knows-how-long, just because you refused to sleep in the same bed with him.

If these natural reactions—the "petty crimes"—landed you a punishment this bad, then what would happen if he found you outside, trying to run from him? What more could he do to you before you'd break beyond repair?

Looking back over your shoulder, you stared at the open door. Maybe you should go back to close it? Buy yourself some time by pretending to hide from him? You could take some food and water with you. Honestly, your preparation was still pretty bad. Perhaps it would be better to try this another time when you had better chances of running from him, the time was so short, and after all—

Your cheek immediately started to burn as you suddenly struck yourself with the palm of your hand. "Focus!" you chided yourself. Why would you let this moment go to waste?! Taking a few more steps, you managed to break through the invisible line that Ghost had kept you behind, the forest enveloping you—swallowing you, like a hungry animal.

You were going to get out of here! You were going to make it!

The branches and leaves snatching at your clothes and skin felt like Ghost's hands reaching for you, trying to pull you back. But with an iron will, you moved on, determined to get through this. All his tricks became meaningless as you powered through the thicket. The hold on you melted away as you used all your strength to escape it. It felt like hours as you rushed through the green, never looking left and right, your determination the goal.

It needed your body to give out beneath you to finally make you stop. You could barely breathe at this point, your vision blurry with tears you didn't know had collected. Your head was spinning like you hit it on something hard, and hundreds of small areas on your body hurt for no reason, but you must have cut or poked yourself on the thicket without realizing it. Your legs felt weak, but your mind was still determined to get through this! You had come so far, just a little more, and you could rest for the night that had surely already fallen, considering how dark it was all around you.

Despite your loud breathing, the silence around you was deafening. It felt exactly like the dark basement you'd been locked in a few times. Air didn't seem to be able to fill your lungs quickly enough, and the sound of your own blood rushing through your body was an uncanny reminder of the fact that you were alive and well. And you'd make it; you had already come so far!

The sound of branches cracking near you made you still instantly.

The animals, you thought. But it could just be a deer.

More shuffling, leaves against fur, hoves breaking through branches and thicket. You'd simply spring up and yell at it to go away! It would be that easy to send it off in another direction. There was nothing to fear; it was all one of Ghost's tactics to scare you of leaving, and it would not work for you anymore!

You knew what you had to do, knew how to behave, and yet, for some reason, your body didn't obey you. Not even as a white face came into few, looking over a bush and staring straight at you. You opened your mouth, ready to yell and scream so the creature would quickly take off, but only a pitiful croak escaped from your throat, everything so tight and clamped up. Your helplessness barely registered, your brain ordering your arms to lift up menacingly, but your fingers merely trembled, hands slack in your lap.

Nothing was working, and your vision grew even darker as you rapidly tried to blink the tears away that filled your eyes. "What's going on?" you asked, but you heard your own voice, incomprehensible, a mix of strangled grunts and breathless squeaks.

"[Name]?"

For some reason, the sound of another voice appeared much clearer than your own. You heard it even through your desperate groans. It sounded firm. Concerned. Safe. It wasn't the sound of an animal, no roar or yap or growl or hiss. You knew that voice, it was... it was...

Something dropped to the ground, and you squeaked in surprise, jerking so hard you felt the branches of the bush poke into your body again. Your senses slowly returned as you were enveloped in warmth, the familiar scent you had breathed day in and day out wrapping around you. Strong barriers held you tightly, lifting you from the ground and adjusting their grip on you, and you managed to worm your own arms around a firm neck, your legs slipping into position in the familiar feeling of being held.

"Calm down, darlin', I'm 'ere. You're okay. It's okay."

Sobs overwhelmed you as you buried your face into the firm shoulder, the flesh molding around your features, giving you a place to hide. Immense warmth attacked you but hugged you just as tightly as the two arms wrapped around your body. "You're safe. Calm down, love."

The darkness clouding your mind dispersed as you felt the soft rocking of footsteps swaying your whole body. Finally, clear thoughts returned to you as you realized you were being carried. You felt the synthetic feel of a rain jacket beneath your fingers, which you had clawed into the fabric, while your breathing grew steadier, your lungs finally satisfied with the amount of air you were getting.

"What happened?" you slurred, still holding on to the person who had found you. Were you finally saved? Did someone rescue you, and did you make it out alive?

"Found you on the edge of the forest, all panicked and shit. For fuck's sake you doin' out here anyway, darlin'?"

The arms squeezed you a little tighter, almost uncomfortably so. But you squeezed back, holding on to your savior with all the strength you had left. "Running... outside... need to find..."

"Were you lookin' for me? Fuckin' hell... can't even punish you for that, sweet'eart."

"I... What?" you mumbled, clarity slowly climbing back into your brain. You heard the sounds of the steps changing from grass to wood, making you finally look up again. Blinking away the rest of your tears, your eyes adjusted, and you clearly watched the line of trees you had become oddly familiar with move away from you. The sight was enough to make you realize you were moving backward instead of through and out of the forest.

You weren't escaping anymore.

Straightening your back, you looked down at the black mask to your right, Ghost being preoccupied with something at your back, releasing one arm from you while he fumbled around with it. "Gave that lock a good kick, eh?" he commented as dread began running down your spine. He sighed, apparently bothered by having to replace the lock before he returned your gaze. He appeared to be relaxed, his eyes a bit lidded and his arms sturdy, giving no indication of his emotions.

But you noticed the blown-apart pupils, the way his gaze fixated on you like a crosshair. He had you all figured out—or at least, you managed to give him a fright.

"How did you find me?" you croaked warily, but the exhaustion made your voice sound sweet and gentle, not wavering and allowing him to hear the rush of nervosity in it. "I ran so far..."

"Told you, I'll always find you. Besides, you were collapsed in a ditch, lookin' absolutely horrified just in front of the cabin. First time 'avin' a panic attack, love?"

"Oh," you muttered, sacking back into his arms and forcing yourself to take deep breaths. You were fucked. Absolutely screwed. Messed up big time. Being carried inside the cabin, the dream of freedom vanished as Ghost squatted down in front of the couch. He slowly tipped you backward, making sure you'd not hurt yourself by falling off him, but instead of getting up, he stayed in the same position, finding your gaze no matter how hard you tried to avoid it.

"You were tryin' to find me, right?" he asked all of a sudden, questioning your motive after all.

"Y-Yeah..." you falsely admitted, your voice finally faltering. He was going to hurt you. Maybe you'd not survive this... would anyone notice if you were dead? Would anyone find you and bring justice to this unfairness you were experiencing? Why did you have to have a panic attack just from running away when all of this was a nightmare you wished to wake up from?!

When his hands landed on your thighs, you flinched, clenching your teeth together and bracing for the pain he was going to inflict on you any second now. You failed bitterly. So much so that you were already crying, tears dripping on his hands while you resigned yourself to your miserable faith.

Ghost rose from before you, pushing some weight onto your legs as he leaned forward, masked lips brushing against your forehead. "Don't do that again," he warned quietly, and you were sure he meant escaping rather than looking for him. "Don't want to have to break your legs just to keep you here, darlin'."

And with that, a firm but merciful warning, he let go, trudging off back outside, leaving the door wide open. Before the stairs leading off the porch, Ghost stopped, looking back over his shoulder, and you flinched—hard—noticing the cold glare he was giving you. "I'll go fetch the groceries. You stay."

With that, he left back towards the forest, making you watch as he brushed through the thicket and disappeared into darkness. Freedom seemed even closer with the unlocked door and Ghost's back turned. Just a few steps, and you'd be outside again. You could hide from him and then make a break for it.

Your body sacked, sliding deeper into the soft cushions of the couch.

"Next time," you mumbled. "I'll escape for sure."

Exhaustion took over as your eyes closed slowly. The last thing you saw was Ghost's silhouette marching back towards the cabin before your body collapsed onto the couch, the soulless eyes behind the skeleton mask drilling into your soul. Like a dog, trained to obey, you stayed.

And Ghost watched over you for a while, trying to push the thoughts of breaking your ankles out of his mind as he went to make you dinner instead. You've been through enough that day. This experience would teach you that you couldn't escape him. Even if your brain still fought, your body knew better than to disobey him. It even knew to cling to him for safety, so it was just a matter of time. He had chipped away at your psyche long enough for you to not even recognize what he had done. Slicing a carrot into two parts, Ghost knew he'd soon get to reap the fruits of his labor.

And once you were as broken as he was, you two would finally be happy together.

[lemon-berri]

Perfume

Gojo Satoru has been standing in a perfume shop for the better part of half an hour now, looking for a specific bottle. He carefully scans the shelves, cerulean eyes searching through the different labels carefully, and still he can't find it. A pout crosses his face, and he hums in dissatisfaction. Maybe they've stopped selling it? Surely not...

"Hi sir! Can I help you find something?" The sound of a shop assistant interrupts his thoughts, and he turns to find an older lady in a store uniform, smiling up at him. She'd noticed him from afar, the tall man carrying a bouquet three times the size of his head in one arm and about a dozen gift bags in the other- he was hard to miss. Now, her gaze lands on the golden band on the ring finger of his left hand, and she attempts to connect the dots. "Is it an anniversary?"

Satoru shakes his head, a proud grin replacing his earlier pout. "Nah, I don't need a special occasion to surprise my wife - though I have forgotten the name of her favourite perfume..."

"It happens all the time!" The lady reassures him. "Could you describe the scent?"

Satoru hums. "Well... its like... watching the sunset, or being embraced by warmth, or thousands of compliments, and butterflies in your stomach.."

"I..." The shop assistant nods along, trying to help despite the fact that he's describing concepts rather than scents. Not to mention he isn't making much sense.

"Wait- actually I think I have a picture." Satoru takes his phone out and the shop assistant visibly relaxes. She takes one look at the picture he shows her, already knowing where to find the particular bottle. "She has good taste.."

"Don't I know it." Satoru grins more. He purchases the bottle, watching as the shop assistant carefully wraps it and places it in a gift bag with a nice little bow. He thanks the lady before leaving the shop, satisfied with the amount of gifts he's purchased today.

The sun is already low in the sky, and day will soon turn to night, but Satoru's day is far from over. He walks with a bounce in his step, whistling to himself and earning the attention of everyone who passes him by. But he doesn't pay them any mind, he's on a mission after all. The one he loves is waiting.

This route is familiar to him, so he isn't paying much attention. His mind replays the days events instead, from teaching classes to fighting curses, to his impromptu shopping trip. Around him, blossoms have started to grow on the trees. It'll be spring soon, longer days and warmer weather, a sign of new begins and good things to come.. right?

Its dusk by the time he reaches the room.

"Hey Angel, I'm sorry I took so long today."

He places the huge bouquet of flowers in a vase on the windowsill, next to the many other floral arrangements he's bought this week- it's starting to look like a florist shop in here, but you've always liked flowers so he doesn't care much. The more the better.

"You'll never believe what happened today. Get this, I walked into class, ready to teach the first years. Only they weren't there. Turns out all of them overslept." He chuckles, taking a seat. He places the various gift bags next to the chair. "I guess it's not too surprising, given there's only three of them. But it was funny listening to the three of them running down the hallway..."

But he gets no response. You're laying on the bed in front of him, resplendent as a painting, bathed in the golden light from the window. Like a sleeping doll. Just within reach yet so far away.

It has been two months. Two months since he'd heard your voice, or seen you look up at him with those pretty eyes of yours. Two months since you had been sent on a mission against that strange cursed spirit, only to go missing for two days, and when they'd found you.. you'd looked just like this. Completely unharmed but unresponsive. Not a scratch on your frame, but refusing to wake up.

Nobody knew what had happened to you. And the cursed spirit had vanished. Perhaps you'd exorcised it. After all it's not natural for a curse to leave a victim unharmed and flee, especially without a trace. But then why weren't you waking up?

He was told talking to you would help. So that's what he does. It's all he can do.

"They opened a new bakery near our place. Thought I think I'll wait for you, so we can go together. Don't make me wait too long, yeah?"

Satoru comes every day, as evidenced by all the flowers and cards and gifts. When you wake up, he wants you to be surrounded by things you love, things that make you happy. You've always loved flowers.

If he's not here, or working, he spends every free moment trying to track down the curse. Or figure out what happened, some way to bring you back. Goodness knows he's tried it all.

He watches the gentle rise and fall of your chest, reminding himself you're still alive. At least some part of you is still here, with him.

"You know.." his expression relaxes, eyes finally showing the sadness he's so desperately been trying to hide. "It's hard without you. The students miss you, and I do too, we're all worried about you..." he sighs.

"But don't worry about that, okay? Focus on getting better. Come back to me."

Satoru spends a few more hours here, telling you about his day, making a few jokes here and there, and filling you into the most recent episodes of the show you love. His voice fills the quiet room, and he tries to imagine what you might say if you were awake.

It's early morning by the time he leaves reluctantly, but work will start up again soon, and he has to get at least some sleep because he knows you'd be mad if you knew he wasn't resting. He leaves the gifts by your bedside. All except one bag, the small one with the little bow on the top. That one was actually a present for him.

Later, when he gets home, he'll spray a little on your side of the bed. That way, at least you'll appear in his dreams.

Seasonal depression has hit me like a truck this year. So now everyone else must suffer too. 😈

I hope you all enjoyed the angst! As usual this is not proofread, please don't point out my mistakes I'll cry.

Thank you for reading 🩵

Banners by @bunnysrph

[allthewhumpygoodness]

Other Stuff that can happen in "stagnant" whump fics

So I've been thinking about something and wanted to share it as an open conversation. A lot of the time my writing block when writing whump or sickfic comes from like...what can actually happen in the course of the story. Especially since my stuff tends towards the longer side (I'm a chronic overwriter), it's hard to keep things...interesting I guess? And I find my writing suffers when my Tales Of Woe don't have much structure to them.

(I say this as someone who writes primarily sickfic, or recovery-based stories that are caretaker/whumpee focused, with little or no whumper involvement, so that's what I'll be focused on here. Certainly if you're writing something like a character being held in captivity and tortured/attempting escape/encountering other prisoners/being searched for, you've already got plenty going on and probably don't have this issue at all.)

So I've made a list of Stuff That Can Happen during your whump/sick fic. If you would like. Of course, there will always be a market for stories that are mostly the same level of suffering and nothing else is really the focus, but if you do find you struggle with this like I do, this list might be for you.

Character arcs/Internal/social shifts:

1 caretaker, their relationship to the whumpee strengthens

1 caretaker, they find themselves growing apart from the whumpee

2 or more caretakers, there are complicated dynamics between all of them + the whumpee that shift around

Eg; there's a whumpee and 3 others, Caretaker A forms a closer relationship with Whumpee throughout the story, Caretaker B *was* close with them before but finds their place now "usurped" by A, Caretaker C tries to keep the peace between them while also helping out Whumpee

A caretaker realizes they're better at Caretaking than they'd thought

A caretaker realizes they're not as good at Caretaking as they'd thought

Whumpee realizes they have romantic feelings for Caretaker (or vice versa)

Whumpee discovers they only like Caretaker as a friend (or vice versa)

Whumpee learns to trust Caretaker (s)

Caretaker (s) learn to trust Whumpee

There was a previous misunderstanding (about their feelings for one another, their loyalties, an action taken from one of them etc.) between Whumpee and Caretaker (or between more than one caretaker) that gradually gets resolved

A misunderstanding occurs within the story that builds and is then resolved

One caretaker has to convince another to be honest with Whumpee about this misunderstanding (or has to convince Whumpee to be honest with Caretaker)

Someone unexpected arrives at the scene; whether that be a rival, a friend or family member of the whumpee, a potential other caretaker, or Whumper

Perhaps this is a relief for the caretaker, who needs a break

Or it's a stranger who causes tension in the situation

Maybe the caretaker knows this person is coming and is stressed out waiting for them

Physical/symptomatic shifts:

Whumpee is found injured and unconscious, and wakes up being cared for - their wounds later become infected, leading to a much longer recovery

Whumpee's condition quickly worsens

Whumpee steadily becomes delirious

Whumpee is feverish and goes from feeling freezing cold to boiling

Whumpee feverishly tries to stumble out of bed and into a different room (searching for Caretaker? trying to find a warmer spot?), and are found before, as, or after they collapse

Adding illness to injury: Whumpee is dealing with an injury, only to get sick, or sick only to also become hypothermic, they have heatstroke and then get hurt etc. Compounding whump.

Environmental shifts:

A caretaker could leave temporarily out of necessity, leaving whumpee and/or other caretaker(s) worried about them until they return

The weather changes (worsens? gets better? worsens and then gets better? gets better and then worsens?)

The characters have to shift locations for some reason

An important resource is run out of

Something necessary is destroyed or partially destroyed

A doctor/medic needs to be called

Somebody else becomes sick, injured, or lands in some other danger

Whumpee's newest symptom requires a different type of medicine than what they've been taking up until now, possibly one the caretaker doesn't have

The characters are in an intense situation (in hiding, in a warzone, on the run, trying to escape a natural disaster etc.) and the stakes suddenly become much higher due to something related to this

Maybe there's a flood and the waters have reached their safe spot

Maybe whumpee is some enemy they're sheltering in secret and members of their team/army/etc. come searching for them

There's lots more I could add and I'm not sure if this is explained in the best way, but there you have it.

[xetlynn]

arcane imagines- vander

it’s (no longer) quiet

pt 2, to this [it’s quiet]

prompt: :)

“Love, could you take that customer. Gotta open a new box.” Your husband passes you, give your thigh a light tap while doing so. You hum in response, nodding your head.

Lately you haven’t been feeling too well. Nausea hitting you like a truck. A lump constantly stuck in your throat. 

Sweat also seems to be never ending in your pores. Giving you that awful oily look that you despised. Heading over to the lady sat at a table, peering over the drink menu. Swallowing down hard you force a smile upon your lips. “What can I get for ya, hun?” Your eye is slightly twitching. “What do you recommend?” She glances up to you and you don’t have the chance to hide the grimace that etched your facial expression. 

You try to play it off, covering it with a bigger smile. “I’d have to go with a plain ol’ Sazerac.” You tell her, which is truly one of your favorites and it’s quite easy to make. “I guess I’ll go with that then.” The lady grins, closing the menu and clasping her hands together. Your shoulders slump, grateful that she wasn’t a difficult customer. “Be right back with that then, my love.” You head back over to the bar. 

As you make the simple drink, you open the absinthe and the smell of herbal like licorice hits your nose instantly. You gag, covering your mouth with the back of your hand. Vander plops down a box of unopened alcohol, raising a brow over at you. Silently you excuse yourself, rushing to the bathroom. Pushing past two randoms. Shoving the stall door and falling to your knees as you throw up. The toast from this morning violently came up. 

Vander went to follow after you but a customer stopped him from doing so, complaining about his drink order. He mentally curses but knows once you come back he can question you about what just happened. 

You flush the toilet, huffing as you stand back up from the disgusting floor. Going to the sink and washing your face and hands. Staring in the broken mirror that you’ve had to replace multiple times already. You observe yourself, looking pale compared to your normal complexion. Your eyes sunken in. A hot mess. 

Sighing you had an idea of what was happening but you plead that you were wrong. Your husband already explained how he felt, so if this was happening. You had no idea how to go about this. How to tell him. Another part of you secretly hoped that it was happening. That selfish part of you. 

You snatch a paper towel, wiping off your hands and face before tossing it in the trash and leaving the bathroom. Fixing your posture. You go behind the counter, making a quick soda and downing it to get the wretched taste out of your mouth. The carbonation burning your throat as it seeps down. Slamming the cup down you go back to making that stupid drink. Holding your breath as you pour the absinthe this time. 

Not noticing that your husband was watching you the entire time. How you didn’t make yourself your own sazerac like you normally did everytime a customer ordered one. Sipping on the drink throughout your shift. 

And later that night after closing, you didn’t even take a shower. Going straight to bed and passing out as your body hits the mattress. Not even covering yourself with the blankets. Which was something that you strictly had to do every night. But fatigue got the better of you. Vander changed your clothes for you, knowing how much you hate outside clothes in your bed. He’s a little worried about your behavior. He hopes you’re not coming down with something. 

Because when you’re sick, it hits you extremely hard and you don’t let anyone help you even though you obviously need someone to. His independent wife. He climbs into bed after his own shower, turning the lamp off and letting you curl into him. He feels your forehead and thankfully you’re not hot but you are sweating. A sign he still doesn’t like but much preferred over a scorching fever. 

•••

You wake up in an empty bed, drenched in sweat. You gaze over to the clock beside your bed, tired. Your eyes widen once you see the time. Two hours past the time you were supposed to open the bar. You shoot up, grabbing clean clothes and heading to the shower. “I don’t even remember falling asleep last night.” You whisper to yourself, wracking your brain for the memory of the night before. As you take your clothes off, clothes you again don’t remember even putting on, you grow irritated with yourself. 

“I need to get a test.” You murmur, climbing into the shower and taking a swift, quick shower. Washing off the disgusting sheen of sweat that covered your skin.

You throw your clothes on, attempting to look as presentable as possible, rushing to the front of your house. You don’t even see the figure standing in your doorway as you try to find your shoes. “Mom, if you’re looking for your shoes you should give up.” The voice startles you, your heart beating through your chest as your glare up at your eldest daughter. “Vi,” You puff, clenching at your heart. “Gonna give your old woman a heart attack.” You pout. 

She apologizes through a laugh. “Dad said you were sick, so he opened with Claggor’s help. Go back to bed.” She crosses her arms and you raise a brow. “He turned my alarm off.” You state, clearly upset with Vander. 

“You’re sick, of course he did.” Violet steps over to you and you roll your eyes. “I’m not sick.” You disagree and she gives you a look. “What? You don’t believe your own mother?” You point a finger at her. “Calling her a liar? Cause if you are you got another thing comin’-”

“Mom.” She puts her hands on your shoulders and you slump down. “Okay, fine. I’m possibly coming down with something.” Your head falls as you lie. You couldn’t tell her that it’s actually, probably from being pregnant. How do you tell your daughter that? “Go lie down, dad sent me to take care of you for the day.” She shoos you back to your bedroom and your jaw slacks as your feet move underneath you. “I’m not a child!” You exclaim. 

“Just go rest.” She orders and you let out a breath in disbelief by the treatment you were receiving. You kick off your work pants, changing into sweatpants and you lay down in your bed. Glaring at nothing, annoyed with your loving family. But as you calm down you realize you can take today to get that pregnancy test from the store. You’d just have to figure out how to get Violet to leave to do so. 

Thirty minutes pass and Violet comes into your room with a steaming bowl, she hands it to you and you stare down at it. Tears threaten the brim of your eyes immediately. “Is this-” You choke on your own words and Violet stands there awkwardly. “It’s your old recipe, the soup you made us as kids.” She finishes your sentence and tears stream down your face as you start to eat it. “Uh… why are you crying?” 

“You’re so cute, oh my gosh.” You sniffle, shoving spoonfuls in your mouth dramatically. “I can’t be-believe you remembered!” You sob and Violet starts to panic. She didn’t know what to do at that moment. She’s rarely ever seen you cry before. “Sit down with me.” You tell her and she hesitantly listens. 

“I have to tell you something.” You wipe your tears away. She nervously looks around the room, wondering what the next words out of your mouth are going to be. “Promise me you won’t tell anyone. Even Cait.” You stick a pinky out to her and she smirks down at your hand. You taught them what pinky promises were, using it as more of a “promise to behave.” type of thing. Not to promise to keep a secret. That was something you were heavily against. 

“No secrets in this household.” You’d all point to them as they lined up in shame after you figured them out for the umpteenth time. “A secret, mom?” Violet tilts her head to the side and you shush her. 

“Don’t think of it as a secret… think of it as… a uh something kept between you and I. Our little thing.” You smile softly and she deadpans at you. “That’s a secret.” 

Your face falls. “Whatever, nevermind. Leave me and my soup.” You shrivel in place, now eating with a frown. Eyebrows furrowed as you do so. “Fine, fine, I promise.” Your daughter sticks her pinky out and you take it with a mouth full of the food she made. Shaking her pinky before letting go. “Okay.” You sit back up. 

“Wow, okay. I don’t know how to say this.” You chew at your bottom lip, thinking this through. “I uh, I think. That doesn’t sound right. Um…” You stammer helplessly, Violet was beginning to get antsy. Staring at you. “Mom.” She places a hand on your knee and you sheepishly grin. “Sorry.”

 “I think I’m pregnant.” You blurt out and Violet sits there silently. Her eyes widened, her mouth open in shock. “I don’t know for sure. I just, I’m having all the symptoms you know. My boobs are quite sore. Do you know how uncomfortable that is?” You ramble on to your daughter who can’t even comprehend what she was just told. “Are you going to say something or am I going to keep talking like an idiot? I just told you, you might have another sibling.” You blink at her, slurping on the soup once again, acting incredibly nonchalant. 

Violet seems to have snapped out of her chance as she closes her mouth and then opens it back up to speak. “You and dad still do it?” She asks and you look taken aback. “Still? What?” You place the bowl on your nightstand. “I mean, like you guys are kind of older… I didn’t know you could still get pregnant. I don’t actually want to know that you and dad do it. That’s gross.” She says, grimacing in disgust and your face twitches downward. “Old!? I’m 38! And it’s perfectly natural! I walked in on you and Caitlyn so let's not forget that.” You throw your hands up, shoving a finger in her face. Her face turns red at your words. “Oh my god.” She covers her face and you laugh. “You promised you wouldn’t bring it up!” She cries out and you bear your teeth, giving a small apology. 

“Anyways… are you sure?” She grabs your now empty hands and you take a deep breath. “I don’t know, I need to take a test. Make an appointment with a doctor.” You tell her truthfully. “I can go get you one, if you want?” She offers and you shake your head. “Nah, I’m gonna go. If you want to come with you can, though.” You say, standing up from the bed. Taking your dirty dish with you. 

“Does dad have any idea?” Violet asks, walking beside you as you guys head into the store. “No, I don’t even know how he’s going to react.” You press your lips together. 

•••

Getting back to your house you notice the lights are on in the living room, your face falls. Violet goes to open the door but you stop her. “Your dad’s home, hold on.” You mutter, shoving the pregnancy test in your pocket. As you do so the door opens loudly. Vander standing there with a disappointed expression. “Love, why can’t you just rest.” He grumbles. You grin up at him, your face turning warm by the fact that you were almost caught. “Sorry, sweetheart.” 

“Vi, I got it covered. You can go.” He exasperates and she glances over to you. You nod your head, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll tell you later.” Side hugging her as you whispered into her ear. “Tell Cait I said hi.” You wave her off as she walks away. “Will do!” 

You then face back to your husband who’s facial expression never falters. “Get back to bed, please.” He gives you space to move past him. “I gotta go pee first, am I allowed to do that?” You ask him in a smart tone. He runs a hand through his long hair, shaking his head. You stress him out. “I guess.” He gruffs, and you hurriedly rush into the tiny room. Slamming the door behind you. 

Vander patiently waits for you, leaning against the couch. After about ten minutes he begins to wonder what you’re actually doing in there. He goes up to the door and as he lifts his fist to knock he hears you sniffling. “Love?” He speaks worriedly. You clear your throat, “yes?” Trying to hide the wavering in your voice. “You okay in there, didn’t fall in, did ya?” He jokes and you let out a small giggle through the tears. “No, I didn’t fall in.” You almost inaudibly say before opening the door. 

Showing the two tests that sit on the counter. His eyes automatically flicker over to them. It was quiet between the both of you as he picked them up. “I peed on those.” You warn him. He ignores you though. Staring at the bright double lines that show on the plastic sticks. “You’re pregnant?” He doesn’t look at you, still kept on what's in his hand.

“Yeah… I’m sorry.” You whisper, letting shame engulf you. His head snaps in your direction, dropping the tests. “You have nothing to be sorry for, [Name]. What are you on about?” He forces you to look up at him. 

“I know you don’t want this.” You shutter, crying for the third time that day. His face softens. “Love, why would you say that?” He asks you. “You said it, you said we don’t have the time for a baby. And we agreed a long time ago we wouldn’t have biological children. That our four we had were enough!” Your body wracked with sobs as you explained.  He thinks back to the conversation in the bar before… your fun activities. He bites his bottom lip, looking down at you.

“Well, we kind of didn’t do anything to prevent that from happening these last two months.” He scratches the back of his head. Ever since that night 60 days ago, the two of you had been going at it like teenagers. “B-but-”

“[Name], my love, it’s okay. We’ll figure this out together.” He brings you into an embrace. “You want to keep it?” You peep up at him from his chest as his large arms engulf you. He smiles. “Of course,” he cranes his neck down to peck your lips. One of his hands going up and wiping your tears. 

“We’ll make an appointment for next week.” He says, still holding you close to him. 

He stares down at the pregnancy tests, it wasn’t ideal for sure, not exactly planned but he knows the both of you will be okay. This baby will be loved just as much as your other children. He grows excited to see what the mix of the two will look like. Also thinking about how plump you’re going to get. Your stomach that will grow round with him. Your breasts that he remembered you said were already tender the other day. 

You admire him, pondering what his thoughts could be. That gets cut off by getting poked in your stomach and your lips etch upward. Your eyes innocently peering up at him. “You like the fact that I’m pregnant?” You tease him and he scoffs. “That your seed took and I’m going to have your baby.” You purr in a sultry tone, pulling away from him and reaching up. Grabbing his face and making him look down at you. 

“Hm, my dear husband?” You ask and his heart skips a beat. Your tear stained face smirks up at him. “Keep talking like that and you won’t be leaving the house for a while.” He grunts, you take that as a challenge. 

“Like what?” You ask, a hand going to your stomach. “I’m just stating the fact that you impregnated me… fucked me so good while doing so.” Your eyes don’t leave his, watching his facial expressions. How his eyes dilate and go dark with lust. 

Abruptly he lifts you in the air, your legs wrapping around his waist. “Gonna keep you on bed rest this wwwhhoolee pregnancy, my love.” He growls in your ear and you giggle excitedly. Attacking his neck with kisses.

[insomniakisses]

I demand a hc for CC turning into a mature alpha today 🤠

Alpha Cait Turns 23 HCs

Warning/Notes: Alpha!Caitlin, Talks of Ruts, Sexual content, MINORS DNI, knotting, P in V sex, Creampies, pregnancy talk? Pup = Baby, general omegaverse stuff

You guys went out the night before to celebrate

Knowing that tomorrow she would have the most INTENSE and mind shattering rut

Thats just what happens when an alpha turns 23 and ages up from being a young alpha to a mature one

It’s a cute dinner date and then you guys come home to watch a movie

You have snacks, Cuddle and just get all loved up under the blankets in bed till you decide to get ready for bed

You make sure theres water on the side table and every other supply you would need because you’re not going to be able to get it once her rut starts.

You do the nightly routine of applying her happy trail cream and giving it gentle rubs

You were Low-key very much high-key emotional that you wouldn’t be doing that anymore now she’s maturing.

Yall sleep naked so it’ll be easier for her when she wakes up

You’re still fast asleep when she wakes up

She wakes up that morning and shes so so sore

Her Body is achey, her dicks rock hard and leaking pre-cum and She’s burning up.

She just whines and turns over reaching for you

When she gets a grip on you she just man handles you into a mating press and pushes in moaning because your such a good omega always so wet for her when she needs you

The whole week and a half is just SEX SEX SEX SEX

She fucks you in every damn position

All over the damn house

Just filling you again and again and again with her cum

You’re covered in bruises, hickeys and bites and shes covered in scratches and hickeys. Maybe a bite or too

You have a permanent cum bulge

Shes fucking you so so so so deep

But shes still trying to go deeper

Her tip kisses your god damn cervix with every thrust, her having found the perfect position to make you take every inch of her

But its not enough

No, she needs to be DEEP

It takes a rough pace, A LOT of growling and you being a compliant little slut for her to get what she wants

And thats pushing into your cervix cumming into your fucking womb

Shes just growling and marking you up moaning about getting you pregnant, and how fucking good you’ll look all round with her pups.

Shes knotting you over and over and over

Both of you so fucked out and needy

Way past overstimulation

She doesn’t even wait for her knot to de-swell completely

Just enough for her to be able to move and shes thrusting again

Even when knotted she will be giving soft shallow thrusts.

When it finally does catch and she can smell that you’re pregnant her rut fazes out.

Shes just collapsed on you the both of you half passed out.

You guys SLEEP after that

But now you have a soft soft cuddlebug alpha who’s just such a baby and wants to pamper you as you grow her pup.

[mmso-notlikethat]

ten years (so sad) …. now what’s that you said about him dying and no one knows for 20-30 years…. 👀

(please please please i need more angst 🙏)

honestly i have no excuse except i wanted to write Tommy's pov and you wanted a longer coma-ish sorry no death (i couldn't)... but this is still way too sad even for me :)...

No MCD, but there is an OC death. / Heavy Angst :)

The first time Tommy realized he wasn’t dead—really knew he was still alive—was after what must have been weeks. Maybe a month. A nurse brushed his arm during a bed change, and he felt it. Faint, like a whisper on his skin, but enough to flood him with hope. He tried to speak, tried to move, but his body betrayed him. His voice was a phantom, his muscles silent.

The nurse left, oblivious.

He wanted to scream. He tried to scream.

Nothing.

After some time—Tommy couldn’t know exactly how much, a couple of months, maybe less or more—Buck showed up. Tommy thought, How…? But the question faded as quickly as it came. Instead, a warmth spread through him, a quiet, desperate relief.

Buck showed up almost every day. Tommy figured Buck must come whenever he wasn’t on shift. He could hear Buck’s voice, steady and warm, as he talked about everything and anything to fill the silence. He talked about Maddie having another baby, about Eddie moving back to El Paso for a while, and then coming back with Christopher.

Sometimes Buck would cry, his voice breaking as he whispered, “Please, Tommy, just wake up. Please.”

Those moments tore Tommy apart. He wanted nothing more than to reach out, to wipe away Buck’s tears, to tell him he was still here. But his body refused to cooperate. All he could do was listen, helpless, as Buck poured his heart out beside him.

A year passed.

Tommy didn’t know how he kept track of time, but he felt it move around him.

The nurses would mention dates in passing, news reports played faintly on TV screens in the hallway, and Buck still came. Once or twice a week, like clockwork, Buck sat by his side, talking about the firehouse, Maddie, Jee-Yun, her sister, and the world outside. Tommy tried to listen, to hang on to those words. They were all he had.

But he also noticed the changes. Buck didn’t stay as long as he used to. Sometimes his visits were rushed, his words distracted. Tommy wanted to shout, Don’t go yet. I’m here! I’m still here!

But he couldn’t.

Five years passed.

The visits became less frequent. Buck came once a month now, bringing flowers that always wilted before the next visit. Tommy learned to brace himself for the quiet. He spent his days locked inside his own mind, desperate for some way to communicate, to show anyone that he wasn’t gone. The staff—the nurses, physical therapists, doctors—anyone… But especially Buck.

Whenever Buck came, he brought a presence to the room that Tommy clung to. He talked about everything: the 118’s updates, Maddie’s growing family, Eddie and Chris, and especially Alex, the little boy he had adopted last year. Buck’s voice lit up when he spoke about Alex—how he was starting to babble, how he smiled the brightest at bedtime stories, how he loved to play with his stuffed animals.

Tommy loved hearing about him. He loved Alex, even though he’d never met him. He clung to those stories like lifelines.

One day, Buck sat down heavily in the chair beside him, his voice quieter than usual. “I met someone,” he said, his words hesitant. “Her name is Amelia. She’s… she’s great Tommy. You’d like her.”

Tommy’s heart shattered, but he couldn’t blame Buck. What else was he supposed to do? They weren’t together when this happened. They hadn’t been for months. He shouldn’t have even hoped. Buck deserved happiness, even if it wasn’t with him. And Tommy had no right to feel like this—no right to feel the ache that settled deep in his chest.

Still, the words haunted him long after Buck left.

Ten years passed.

Buck came every three months now, sometimes less. Tommy had given up trying to track the days. He spent most of his time floating in and out of awareness, only rousing when someone touched him or adjusted his position. The staff rarely spoke to him except to comment on his care. He was just another body to them.

The next time Buck visited, his smile was softer, his voice lighter. “I married her,” he said, raising his hand instinctively to show the ring, even though Tommy couldn’t see it. But somehow, Tommy felt it. “Amelia. She’s amazing, Tommy. She’s good for me.”

Tommy’s chest ached, but also, he was happy for Buck. Genuinely happy. Buck deserved this, deserved someone who could be there for him—though he couldn’t move a muscle to show it. He wondered what Amelia was like, what it would feel like to meet her. But all he could do was listen as Buck described a life he would never be part of.

Buck stayed longer this time, the warmth in his voice pulling Tommy out of the haze he lived in most days. “Oh, and uh… I’m a captain now,” Buck said, almost shyly, as though he didn’t want to brag. “Took me long enough, huh? Bobby always said I’d get there. I wish you could’ve been there, Tommy. You would’ve laughed at the whole thing. I was so nervous.” He chuckled softly, the sound tugging at something deep inside Tommy.

Tommy wanted to tell him, Good job, Evan. You deserve that. I’m so proud of you. The words sat heavy in his chest, unsaid and unheard.

A few visits later, Buck shared something that lit up the room. “Amelia’s pregnant,” he said, his happiness spilling into the space like sunlight. “We’re having a baby, Tommy. Can you believe it? Me—a dad again.” He laughed lightly, and Tommy could almost picture the sparkle in his eyes. “I hope the kid turns out as awesome as Alex.”

Tommy was happy for Buck. He truly was. He just wanted to be part of it somehow, maybe in some small way he already was. But he wanted Buck to know—really know—how happy Tommy was for him. How much he wished he could say it, could share in this joy with him.

Fifteen years passed.

Buck’s visits came twice a year now. He still talked, but not as much. There were longer silences as he sat by the bed, looking at Tommy with guilt in his eyes. “Amelia and I… we had a little girl,” he said during one visit. “Her name’s Emma. She’s five now.”

Emma. Tommy committed the name to memory, repeating it over and over in his mind like a prayer. He imagined her laugh, her tiny hands. Did she have Evan’s eyes? His curls? Or maybe she had a birthmark just like him… His thoughts lingered. Maybe she looked like her mother.

He wanted to say, Tell me more. Don’t stop talking about her. But Buck’s voice trailed off, and the silence stretched between them.

Years continued to pass, and when Buck visited again, his voice carried the weight of something Tommy couldn’t place. Alex was 14 now, and Emma was 8. Buck sat heavily in the chair beside him, his words slow and uneven. “She left, Tommy,” he said quietly, his hands wringing together. “Another person left me. I know this time it isn’t anyone’s fault… but this hurts.”

Tommy’s heart twisted, confusion and worry gnawing at him. Who left? Buck didn’t say, and the silence that followed felt different—deeper, darker. He tried to reach out, to say anything, but his body stayed still, his voice trapped.

Frustration bubbled up in Tommy’s chest, followed by a wave of hot, searing anger. Why? Why can’t I move? Why can’t I tell him I’m here? He raged silently, cursing his own body, the years of silence, the cruel trap he was locked in. He wanted to scream, to reach out and shake Buck, to demand answers, to comfort him, to do something. But there was nothing he could do. Nothing.

The anger simmered as Buck sat there, quiet and heavy with grief. Who left, Evan? he thought frantically. What happened? I’m so sorry, Evan. Please, talk to me. Over and over, Tommy repeated the words in his mind, desperately wishing Buck could hear them. He didn’t understand what had happened, but he wanted to comfort Buck, to take away even a fraction of the pain he could feel radiating off him.

But Buck didn’t say anything more. He sat quietly for a while, then stood and placed a hand gently on Tommy’s shoulder. “I’ll see you soon,” he said softly before walking out of the room.

Tommy was left with his thoughts, his heart breaking for Buck. Whatever had happened, Tommy wanted Buck to know he wasn’t alone—even if he couldn’t tell him.

And then, as always, the helplessness crept back in, wrapping around him like chains. He was powerless, and that hurt almost as much as whatever Buck was going through.

Twenty-two years passed.

When Tommy finally woke up, it wasn’t dramatic—no gasp of air or miraculous surge of energy. His eyes simply opened, his body heavy and alien, and his first breath was shallow and labored. The nurse beside him gasped, calling for a doctor as Tommy’s gaze slowly wandered around the room. It was brighter than he imagined, and the world felt distant, blurry.

It took days for Tommy to understand just how much time had passed. He couldn’t walk. His muscles were too weak, his body unrecognizable. His reflection in the mirror was a stranger—lines etched deep into his face, his hair thin and gray.

The days that followed were a blur of tests and therapies. His muscles were too weak to move much, and his voice cracked like old paper when he tried to speak.

The doctor explained everything—how long he’d been in the care facility, the complications, and how much time had passed.

It wasn’t until the door opened, and Buck stepped inside, that it truly sank in.

Buck was older now, his face lined and his shoulders broader. His hair had streaks of silver, and his movements were slower but steady. He carried himself with a confidence that hadn’t been there before, though his eyes carried something else—something heavier. He looked just as Tommy knew he would—familiar in a way that was both comforting and heartbreaking.

Tommy couldn’t speak much yet, his throat raw from disuse. But he mustered all the strength he had, letting a faint smile curl across his lips. “Hey,” he rasped, the words barely audible.

Buck froze, his eyes wide, his breath catching in his chest. He blinked rapidly, his hands trembling as they curled into fists at his sides. “H-hey,” he whispered back, his voice thick with emotion. He was holding back tears, but Tommy could see how close he was to breaking.

For a moment, they just looked at each other, two men who had been separated by time and silence. Buck pulled a chair closer and sat down, reaching out to rest a hand lightly on the edge of Tommy’s bed. The room was quiet, save for the faint hum and beeps of the machines tommy still needed.

After a long pause, Tommy rasped out, “She… left?”

Buck frowned slightly, confused. “What?” he asked, his voice unsure, like he didn’t quite remember. For him, he said that line years ago—he couldn’t know that for Tommy, it was as vivid as yesterday.

Tommy hummed softly, gathering strength. “You said… she left. Who?”

The realization hit Buck slowly, he sat back slightly, as though reaching into a distant memory. “Oh…” His shoulders sank, and his eyes grew impossibly sad. “Amelia—uh… my wife,” he said quietly, almost stumbling over the words, his voice hollow. “She died… a car accident.”

Tommy’s eyes softened, filled with sorrow. His throat ached as he struggled to speak, his voice hardly above a whisper. “Sorry,” he said hoarsely. “Must’ve been… hard.”

Buck’s head shot up at that, his brows furrowing. He stared at Tommy, almost disbelieving, his lips parting in surprise. It was hard. It had been one of the hardest things he’d ever gone through. Losing Amelia had left him a widower, his kids without their mother. It had left a hole he still carried, even now. But for a moment, he couldn’t process that Tommy—frail and still recovering from decades of silence—was the one trying to comfort him.

A faint, disbelieving laugh escaped him, almost reflexive. He shook his head, his voice soft and tinged with disbelief. “Are you really saying that?” he whispered, a sad smile tugging at his lips.

And then he froze, his breath catching as his eyes widened. His voice faltered when he spoke again. “Wait… y-you… you heard?”

Tommy nodded faintly, a small, almost fragile smile on his lips. “Everything,” he rasped, the word carrying the weight of decades.

And it hit Buck—all at once. Everything. Tommy had heard it all. The stories about Alex and Emma, the confessions, the heartbreak, the joy, the grief. Twenty-two years of words poured into a void Buck had thought was empty, but Tommy had been there the whole time, trapped and silent. Listening. Always listening.

The realization broke something in Buck. His face crumpled as he leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, one hand covering his mouth as the first sob escaped him. His shoulders shook as he cried, the weight of twenty-two years crashing down on him in a way he hadn’t expected.

Tommy wanted to reach out, to tell him it was okay, but his body still wouldn’t cooperate. All he could do was whisper again, “Evan, it’s okay. I’m here now.”

But for Buck, the guilt and pain of all those years spent talking to someone he thought couldn’t hear him—and the thought of what Tommy must have felt, locked inside his own body—was too much. He thought how he had left Tommy alone longer and longer over the years, how his visits had decreased while Tommy was still there, still listening, still waiting.

He stayed there for a moment, head in his hands, as Tommy lay quietly, his faint smile never wavering.

Then Buck quickly wiped his face, taking a deep, steadying breath. He began to talk to Tommy about things—about Alex, about Emma, about life in general. He spoke softly, a little hesitantly, like he wasn’t quite sure where to start or how much Tommy could take. But he kept going, filling the space with the sound of his voice, just like he always had.

As Buck stood to leave, he turned back toward Tommy and leaned down slightly. “I’ll help you,” he said firmly. “No matter what, I’ll be here whenever I can. I promise.” He paused, his voice softening. “I’ll bring Alex and Emma to visit. They know you, Tommy. They love you.”

That lit something small in Tommy’s face—a faint glimmer in his eyes, the tiniest upward curve of his lips. He nodded weakly, his voice hoarse as he whispered, “Thanks.”

But later, when the room was empty again, and he was alone again… Tommy stared at the ceiling, his chest aching, tears slipping silently down his cheeks. He thought about the years he’d spent hiding behind lies, about the fleeting years when he’d finally embraced who he was, and about the decades he’d spent trapped in silence, invisible to the world.

He’d lost so much time. Too much time.

And now he didn’t know if he’d ever get any of it back.

Thirty-three years pretending. Seven years living. Twenty-two years lost.

What was left for him now?

[tojipie]

˚ ✧ ────────

you’re 5 minutes into your first round and to be quite honest, you’ve never been more sure that fushiguro toji and his god given ability to dirty talk is something you’ll take to your grave.

you’d been with other guys before, ones with a nasty habit of running their mouths during sex. ones that’d grab you by the neck and whisper sweet nothings in your ear, telling you how good you felt, how tight you were, how they couldn’t wait to fuck you again.

toji is entirely different. nothing, and i truly mean nothing, compares to that old man when it comes to mouthing off in the bedroom. he’s formulating sentences you never thought possible, spewing stuff that would have you clutching your pearls and running for the hills any other given day.

you’re holding onto your composure by your teeth hearing him say the things he does, thighs and arms burning as you rock back and forth on his dick.

“take what you need pretty. uh huh, keep fucking me,” he chuckles, winding a fist into your hair to pull you back onto his cock when he notices you trying to crawl away.

you honestly don’t think you can take it anymore. if the way your guts were currently being pummeled into oblivion wasn’t enough, the way he’s talking to you right now has you in crisis.

it’s all too good, suspiciously good, and embarrassingly enough, you think you might be nearing your edge only 7 minutes after making it to his bed. your arms fail you as you try to crawl up the bed and away from the too-good feeling currently frying every wire in your brain.

“awww, you runnin’ from me?,” he laughs, letting your hair go to cage you in from behind, two solid arms settling on either side of your head.

your words escape you each time you muster up a response, eyes rolling back and he takes over again, shoving you face down and absolutely destroying that special spot tucked away inside of you. toji’s like a furnace, cooking you alive with the heat the radiates add his abs and chest.

“told ya you couldn’t handle it,” he teases, watching you writhe under him. “not with this dick.”

you feel something wet—a tongue you realize— traveling up the base of your spine and tapering off at your neck before solid teeth clamp down on the skin there.

okay, wow. fuck. you realize he’d lapped up the moisture settling in the dip of your back, licking the sweat from your skin like an animal.

“gonna let me taste every part of you? hmm?” he says in that too sweet voice you only hear when he’s teasing. he lets go of your neck with a pop to admire the bruise his bite leaves in its wake, sucking another one right under it for good measure.

you fall over the edge with no warning, so overwhelmed with pleasure that your mind and body continue to work separately.

the sound toji makes is beautiful. low, long, and guttural. radiating from the deepest part of his chest like a fan, and for a minute, you think he might be feeling the same overwhelming pleasure you are.

“ughh-hah don’t move, don’t move,” he whispers over and over, massaging the fat of your ass while your body flutters around him. you feel something viscous leak out of you, dripping down the seam of your heat and onto the sheets.

“when the fuck did you have time to cum?,” you finally muster. you don’t think you’d be able to move if your life depended on it, limbs sinking into the mattress like tubes of jelly. you really can’t move once you feel 200 pounds of laughing muscle settle on top of you, keeping you grounded like a paperweight on a measly little envelope.

“what, y’ quitting on all of this?” he laughs, gesturing up and down himself so you know just how irresistible he thinks he is. the worst part is that he’s right, just based off of how hard he’d rocked your world in the last 10 or so minutes.

you feel invigorated by some stroke of a miracle, pressing back on his still-leaking dick as a silent invitation.

“what, more? y’need more of me you little minx?” he laughs, grrriiiinding his tip right up against that fleeting spot you would have never been able to get to on your own.

and just like that he’s back to fucking you, pulling you into him like a toy at that same perfect pace.

“bite me hard if y’ want me to stop, you hear me?” he commands, shoving your face back into the pillows once he sees you nod.

[giddyfatherchris]

Hi there, I was wondering what bangchan would be like dating a bookworm? Like would he like being read to? or he enjoys listening about the stories you've read.

hii!

oooh this is one is so good!!! 🎀 as a bookworm myself i have thooooughts on this and i feel like chan would absolutely love being with someone who’s book obsessed…

‧ ୨୧ ‧ since he's a busy guy who is always focused on work, new ideas and projects i think he would love for you to read close to him. the kind of thing where you're both doing your own stuff but close to one another. when working at home he would def text you or come and pout about you needing to come read next to him while he's working. he would tuck you in a blanket, make sure you're all comfortable and give you a quick kiss before going back to his own thing. he would also love to take little breaks and come sit next to you so you can tell him all about the book you're reading. he would love to see your eyes light up with excitment and get in your own little world as you tell him everything about it.

‧ ୨୧ ‧ i think the reading to him thing would come later, kind of as a surprise that this is something he actually enjoy and can even be beneficial for him. it would probably happen when his insomnia is acting up and it's 3:00am and sleep is not an option to him. you'd find him on the couch, working on his computer, sleep bags under his eyes. ofc he would try to get you back to bed and apologize for waking you up but no no you wouldn't want to hear it because poor baby:( insomnia is a really lonely sleep disorder. so no leaving him alone. you would come back with blankets, your glasses and a book in hand. "sometimes when i can't sleep i pick up my book and it helps me... so i thought it might work for you too." he would smile very big and wide and pull you closer "that's very sweet babe but i'm afraid i'm not that much of a reader" "i know, that's why i'm going to read it to you. i picked that book i told you about and you seemed to like." then, because he is a big ol' softy his heart would squeeze and tighten in his chest at this pure demonstration of love. you would cuddle real close with him laying between your legs, head resting on your chest. he'd pull the blankets up close and settle in to listen to the soothing sound of your voice until the next thing he knows... it's 10am and you're both still on the couch, book on your chest, your glasses askew on your nose and he wouldn't believe it worked and he fell asleep!! he would wake you up with lots of kisses and silly grins because he. fell. asleep. !!! he'd call you a magician and cook you breakfast to thank you :3 i think it would then become a tradition for the two of you and he’d even start listening to audiobooks because ofc he doesn’t want you awake every night to read him books!! (even though he frickin loves it)

all in all, i think chan would loooove having a bookworm partner :3

(pictures are not mine. credit to the owner!)

[prettieinpink]

LITTLE WAYS TO LIVE HEALTHIER IN 2025

INCREASE YOUR N.E.A.T. Neat stands for non exercise activity thermogenesis. So, basically any daily activities we do when not exercising or sleeping. It's important for you to have a high N.E.A.T because it can be the difference between having a sedentary lifestyle or being moderately active. 

Ways to increase NEAT is to do more heavier chores everyday (vacuuming, mopping, dusting), taking the longer routes when walking, stand for 10 minutes each hour, pace back and forth while calling someone, march while you’re brushing your teeth, etc. 

DRINK HERBAL TEAS. Herbal teas can help you in a variety of areas of life, and are a great substitute for other processed beverages. 

ADD SUNLIGHT IN YOUR MORNING. Exposing yourself to sunlight early in the day helps with resetting the circadian rhythm, which in return helps for waking up easier and going to sleep easier. 

EAT WITHOUT DISTRACTIONS. You’ll savour your food so much more and it’ll be easier to tell when you’re satisfied. 

CREATE A PLAYLIST FOR WHEN YOU WIND DOWN. Once you get into the habit of listening to this playlist, it’ll become like a trigger to your body that it’s time to sleep because listening to that playlist  should be followed by settling into bed. 

 REGULARLY GO TO YOUR GP. Especially if you’re feeling a bit out of it. It is always better to make those regular visits and catch something before it becomes out of hand. 

STOP WAKING UP SO EARLY. I don’t know who needs to hear this, but waking up at 5am is unnecessary if not required. While I do believe that waking up earlier does have benefits, that extra hour of sleep probably has more. 

IF YOU’RE STRUGGLING, TAKE IT SLOWER. In this day and age, we don’t have time to process a lot of things. Everything is so fast paced, that if we fall behind, we tend to feel less than. 

Especially if you’re someone who can’t keep pace with the crowd due to disabilities or mental health. Take things at your own pace, and do what you can will yourself to do. 

GET SPIRITUAL. Lots of studies show that people who commit themselves to their beliefs are a lot happier in life than those who don’t. This doesn’t mean that you have to commit to a religion yet, but I would explore your spirituality side and see what  resonates with you. 

WEAR YOUR SPF. Skin cancer is no joke, and our earth is only getting hotter. Protect yourself, including your body! 

SURROUND YOURSELF WITH GOOD PEOPLE. People who radiate love and are always looking for the goodness around them, that rubs off on you and in return you’ll develop similar traits. Being with them will stimulate growth in all aspects of your life. 

I'm not telling anyone to ‘fix’ anyone, but it means a lot to other people if you can be that person in their life. It's a very rewarding and fulfilling lifestyle.  

TAKE MAKEUP BREAKS REGULARLY. Give your skin a break from products, and ideally take a week off each month to spend it makeup free. You’re saving time and your skin. 

ADD IN FRUITS, HERBS OR LEMON IN YOUR WATER. This will help with extra hydration and improve digestion. 

PRIORITISE FIBRE. As much as protein is good for you, fibre has just as much importance but it's not as heavily prioritised. Ideally, half of your meal should be fibres. However, that can be a hard change for some people, so start with having it on the side. 

It's great if you can incorporate ‘hidden’ fibre into your meals as well!

CURATE YOUR SPACE TO SUIT YOU. Add in little notes of reminders or quotes, place around photos or awards of your achievements, remove anything that impacts you negatively. You want the area that you’re in 24/7 to support that growth, not stifle it. 

Keep your area clean and decluttered as well. Try to minimise the amount of stuff that you have. You only need one of each thing, two is one too many. Having too much clutter affects the clarity of your mind.

it is numbered oddly because of the way I pasted this from google docs to tumblr. apologies!

[foreverdolly]

Intolerance cannot be beaten with tolerance. 

I have always written and read as a means to escape from my day to day life, even before the struggles of adulthood was even a blip on the horizon. This blog is a safe space for me. I love hearing that my writing, despite the fact that it is nothing but fanfiction (for now, at least), helps people escape for a little while as well. Whether you’re reading before bed in order to silence your mind for long enough to get some shut eye or pulling up tumblr during a rough and emotional day, somewhere along the way you found your way to me. I cherish the fact that our paths have crossed like this. 

Right now, more than ever, the world feels like a very terrifying place. I hate the idea of lifting the finely tuned veil that I have tried to cast over this blog, what with it being my safe little corner of the internet, but silence is complacency. I refuse to be complacent to what is going on right now in the United States of America. When I woke up on November sixth there was an impending sense of dread. As a woman who had listened to the vitriol from the other side, I was naturally terrified. Waking up and seeing “your body, my choice” plastered on every social media site was nothing short of horrific. There is no woman or girl in this world that has not been violated in some way by a man, whether that be physically, verbally or emotionally. 

I look at the hateful rhetoric disguised as Christian love- pastors preaching about eradicating the queer community. About taking away a woman’s bodily autonomy. About ripping children away from their parents. They paint the progressive thinkers to be monsters. To that I say: who are truly the monsters?

We are more worried about banning drag queen story times than protecting our youth who are being killed whilst trying to do something as innocent as receive an education. Our people are living paycheck to paycheck and we're more focused on stripping people's basic human rights away from them than uplifting the impoverished.

This country takes away social media platforms or buys them out all together as a means to monitor the speech and behavior of its people. It dictates how we will raise and teach our children all while forcing them to assimilate to a consciousness of their own design. Women are dying every day due to health complications. Transgender youth and adults would rather eternally sleep than put up with the constant harassment and erasure. The gay and lesbian communities are having their way of life threatened. . . and for what? 

The states have never seemed this divided. It is no longer a difference of politics but a difference of morals. Beyond even that, it is a total lack of empathy. The vocabulary being thrown around by that side is eye opening: “eradicate”,“purge”,“the reckoning” etc. 

Fear mongering is something that I absolutely abhor, but I truly mean it when I say that these next four years are going to be rough. I am certain that the rules and regulations that will be put into place will affect us for many years to come. We are going backwards- back to a time where people of color were terrified to leave their own homes because of the threat of violence. A time where people couldn’t love who they wanted. A time where women had rights stripped away from them and were seen as little other than cattle. 

If there was ever a time to fight then now would be that time. We all have a voice, no matter how quiet. Use it. 

Reject racism. Reject sexism. Reject classism.

This blog is a safe space for those that are genderqueer, queer, and of color. We are trapped. The fire is coming from inside of the house and sadly we can no longer save those that are throwing themselves into it as kindling. 

If you are scared and need someone to talk to please message me. I will give you my personal discord so that we can chat regularly if you need someone on your side right now.

If you feel alone please know that you are not. 

[idontactuallyremember]

Squid Game- Thanos x Fem!reader

Day 3 on this island and you're withdrawing- bad. Thanos offers to help but only if he & Nam-Gyu get something in return. Only, they start bickering and Thanos decides to show everybody who's in charge.

Pairing: Fem!reader x Thanos

(Nam-Guy slightly involved but him and Thanos don't touch)

CW: mentions of withdrawal symptoms, unprotected sex, a lot of cursing, substance use, Nam-Gyu watches you and Thanos, use of the nickname "daddy"

Authors note: If you are only interested in the spicy parts & not the backstory; it starts at the pink paragraph!! This is longer than I wanted it to be but I love this lil story

NSFW BELOW THE CUT- MINORS DNI

You wake up sweating, even though you feel the cool air on your face. It's only your second (maybe third ?) day locked away with these strangers- strangers that would likely all be dead within a few more days time.

You would care, only if you could get something to take this edge off.

Your bones and joints hurt.

As you shift in a sitting position in your bed- you realize there still aren't any lights on. How much longer you would have to sleep is up in the air, as there is no clock or windows indicating what time it is.

You try to place what time it could be and you guess there's only an hour or two left of darkness.

You would go back to sleep. You would, only, your sheets and pillow are covered in sweat. Your back hurts and your hands are shaking. Your stomach turns over as you rub the sleep out of your eyes. The nausea is starting. Your legs are restless.

Your thoughts are eating away at you. If only you had just one pill, one hit... anything. You're obsessed with how badly you feel, it's all you can think about.

Only then, in the darkness, do you hear soft whispering.

It distracts you from your pain. You decide to eavesdrop.

"No, just one, greedy fuck..." A low voice says.

You close your eyes to focus better.

"I still need enough to last the next few days- Just until we get out of here with our money." The voice carries on, the person he is speaking to stays silent.

You decide to peak over the edge of your bed to see where the voices are coming from.

In the darkness, you can vaguely make out two men sitting on a bottom bunk.

The first one is Thanos. You only remember his name because it's so unusual. As is his appearance. The other man- you have no idea what his name is.

A lot of people tried recruiting you, introducing themselves to you. At first, you didn't mind. But the longer you go without a high, the more belligerent and annoyed you feel yourself becoming.

Although it was obvious, it didn't occur to you what the two boys were doing until you see them place something in their mouth.

Immediately, without thinking, you climb down your bunk and start over to them. You don't even think about what you're going to say- you only know you need to get high. And you'd do whatever you have to if it meant you could just feel a little less weak and nauseous.

They hear you before they see you- Thanos wildly looks around to see where the noise is coming from.

As you approach, you see Thanos scramble to hide what is in his hands.

The only thing your withdrawing brain can think to say is, "Hey..."

You would mentally smack yourself if you weren't so desperate right now.

"Hello, pretty." Thanos says. You see the other man open his mouth to speak but says nothing.

There's a moment of silence.

"I'm Nam-Gyu." The man finally decides to say.

"I'm Y/N." You say, even though you don't like the idea of anyone knowing your real name.

Thanos looks you up and down. He sees you shaking, itching your arms. He sees the pool of sweat around the collar of your shirt.

"You don't feel too good, huh?" He notices.

"No, not really." You say, weakly. You were hoping he offered something to you so you wouldn't have to ask.

"Sit down." He orders.

You do as you're told, even if you don't appreciate the bossy tone.

"You want one of these?" He asks, his hands holding the cross emerging from his hiding place. You didn't like the connotation behind his voice.

"Yes, if you can spare one. I'm withdrawing bad..." You say.

"Aww..." He says and grabs your hand, "you wanna feel better?"

"Yes, I do." Is all you say, his flirtatious tone does nothing but annoy you.

"Just give it to me, dude. Not in the fucking mood." You think to yourself.

"Well..." Thanos looks at Nam-Gyu. You sense they are having a silent conversation with their eyes. A conversation in a language you don't understand.

"I can give you one, if you really need it." He offers.

"Thank you." You say, expecting him to say more.

He pulls out the necklace under his shirt and opens the cross. Sitting there are multiple, colorful, small tablets.

"Here:" Thanos grabs a random one, "Take it."

You open your palm to him, waiting for him to hand it to you.

Only, he doesn't. He pops the pill in his mouth, instead.

"C'mere, fast." He directs. You're unsure of where this is going but, again, do as you're told anyway.

As you scoot closer to him, he grabs your face. In a second, he is kissing you. With his tongue, he passes the small tablet to you in your mouth. He kisses you for a few more moments.

As he pulls away, you chew the already dissolving pill and swallow.

"You'll feel better soon, okay?" He says, as if he didn't just force his tongue in your mouth, "it hits fast."

You don't have much to say. While you're grateful you will feel less sick today- the kiss left you stunned. It was unexpected. And maybe a tiny bit hot.

"Thanks." Is all you say and you get up to return to your bunk.

"No way, senorita, you stay here." Thanos says, grabbing you around the waist. He forces you back sitting in his bed.

Part of you already knows what direction this is heading. Part of you can't care- you're finally going to be high again for the first time in days.

"Show some gratitude, yeah? He just saved you from withdrawals." Nam-Gyu says, the first words he's uttered since introducing himself.

You decide to say nothing in response.

As the minutes go by, you wait for it to kick in. You're praying it does work fast- like Thanos promised.

"What are you doing here, anyway?" Thanos asks you.

"I got in a lot of debt from my addictions. Gambling, drugs, drinking.." you say.

"Mmm, not good. You're too pretty to be doing those things." Thanos hums, absentmindedly.

You start to feel a little woozy. You notice your pain is slowly getting better, your mood lifting a little.

Somehow, by your body language, the two boys notice, too.

"You feel better already, see?" Nam-Gyu says. You nod in agreement.

As if waiting for the perfect moment- the moment you started feeling it, Thanos asks: "So what do I get in return for making you feel better?"

You were waiting for this.

"What do you want?" You ask.

You know his answer before he even tells you. The look in his eye, his shit-eating grin. You see what he wants.

"Well, I made you feel good. You're gonna make me feel good, too, right?" Thanos smiles.

You are silent for a minute. If you don't agree, you were scared he would do it anyway. Plus, with the drugs kicking in, you felt much more care-free, maybe even a little horny.

You thought Thanos was attractive but his personality wasn't exactly all he cracked it up to be.

They might be jackasses, but Thanos did at least help you- even if it was truthfully for his own benefit.

"Okay" you agree, "I'll make you feel good."

His smile only widens, "Good girl, I knew you wouldn't disappoint me." He scoots closer to you.

Thanos grabs your face to kiss you, again. You comply; letting him take dominance.

"I knew from the moment I saw you... I was waiting for you to come begging for a high." He whispers, between kisses.

He pauses for a moment to lay you down, your head falls in Nam-Gyu's lap, unexpectedly.

You look up at Nam-Gyu, then back at Thanos.

"He wants to watch us, okay? You can pretend he's not there." Thanos says, running a hand down your face.

You get a little embarrassed at the thought of someone watching you but it sort of turned you on.

You say nothing. You decide ignoring him might be the best course of action, even if it intimidated you.

With Thanos still on top of you, he kisses your face softly. He nibbles your neck and earlobes. Maybe it's the high, but it feels like fucking magic. You put your hands in his hair as he teases you, continuing to kiss you everywhere he can.

He puts his hands under your shirt and gropes at you, rubbing circles around your nipple over the thin fabric of your bra.

In the midst of the moment, you look up at Nam-Gyu, just above you, your head still laying in his lap. He paws at himself through his pants but doesn't say anything. He doesn't touch you.

Thanos sits you up for a moment, taking off your shirt and bra. The cold air makes your nipples hard and Thanos licks his lips before latching himself to one of them, sucking hard and swirling circles with his tongue.

You groan, quietly.

"This is what you've been hiding under these baggy clothes?" He asks, "So fucking sexy..."

You feel Nam-Gyu move nearer towards Thanos' side of the bed, you assume, to see you from his perspective.

Thanos doesn't even give him a glance. He pretends he isn't there at all. His attention is only on you.

He lays you back down, and messes with the waistband of your pants. A shiver runs through you.

Thanos takes off his shirt in one quick motion as he grinds against you- pulling it over his head. It made your knees weak to see him shirtless- his necklace swaying back and forth just above your head. Your eyes are all over him.

"Don't look at me like that, not yet." He warns.

"Like what?" You ask, a cheeky smile peaking through your attempted deadpanned gaze.

"Like you're begging for it..." He kisses your stomach, "be patient..."

Nam-Gyu silently watches, listens to your conversation. He hungrily paws at himself- his hips bucking in anticipation. It makes you wary to say much but as the minutes pass, the relief that you're not withdrawing anymore is overwhelming. You were scared you'd do anything Thanos asks, out of appreciation.

"Get on top of me." He orders.

Before you straddle him, already shirtless, he hums, "Let's take these off, too, okay?"

He gently slides off your pants, but when he sees a pair of cute, lacy panties, he pauses.

"Fuck..." He stares at the intricate, purple lace, "You're a fucking dream to me."

Before you get on top of him as requested, he quickly removes his sweats & boxers, letting you see everything.

Once on top of him, he groans as you rub against him. You lean down to kiss Thanos, your ass in the air.

Nam-Gyu swallows thickly; he has a perfect view of you here. His hands fumble with his waistband as he slowly begins to properly touch himself.

Thanos' hands are all over you. In your hair, scratching your back, gently squeezing your throat, down your hips as you grind against him. You kiss his neck, his chest.

"You wanna ride me, Princess?" He asks.

You nod and he quickly reaches down and slides your panties to the side.

You make quick work of lowering yourself down perfectly, letting only the tip graze against your wetness.

"Do you feel how much I need you?" You ask.

"Fuck... yes... yes, I do." He manages.

Only when you let him enter you completely do you get your first real moan from him.

He groans, loud and then, "C'mere." He grabs your throat, "you're so fucking tight for me... treating me so good.." His hips thrust into you as you ride up and down slowly.

He stops, suddenly, reaching for the cross around his neck. Still inside you, he opens it, places a red pill on his tongue and then says to you, "Open..."

He pops another pill in your mouth. Nam-Gyu's face goes pale.

"Dude, are you fucking serious?" He asks.

"What?" Thanos asks, looking at you slowly ride him, smiling and nodding as you chew and swallow.

"You're gonna give her another one just because she let you fuck? You're so fucking easy, man. You're a fucking pushover. I asked for another one and you said yo-" Nam-Gyu starts but is interrupted.

"I said 'no' because last time I fucking checked these belong to me. I decide who to give them to. How many I give. How many I take. That's up to me. I'm no pushover- you think you deserve more than what you do. That's not my fucking problem, man. I don't have to give you fucking ANY, you realize that? I don't owe you. I protect you in here- YOU owe me. If you sucked my dick maybe I'd give you a few extra, too. Everyone can see who's in charge here. Respect that or go somewhere else..." Thanos says, then- directed to you, "Tell me who's in charge, baby?"

"You're in charge" You say, playing his dumb game.

"Who's the boss, princess? Tell me."

"You are."

"What's my fucking name?" He thrusts inside you, hard, gripping your hair.

"Thanos, fuck!" You moan out in response.

Nam-Gyu sucks his teeth but says nothing more.

"I wanna be on top, now." Thanos says, flipping you over.

Your hair sprawls out around you and Thanos makes a show of taking off your panties now that you're laying down.

A show seemingly for Nam-Gyu. Almost as if to say, "Fuck you, you wish this was you, huh?"

Just as he begins to fuck you again, he turns to Nam-Gyu.

"Move off the bed, you're in the fucking way." Thanos orders.

"Where do you expect me to sit, then?" Nam-Gyu questions, clearly annoyed.

"Sit on the fucking floor for all I care, I don't give a fuck- move."

Nam-Gyu chews his lips, "I don't want to sit on the fucking floor like a dog."

"Don't act like one, then! Your options are you sit on the floor or you go sit in your fucking bed. Either way you have to stop bitching. Decide -fast- and shut the fuck up." Thanos says and a muscle in Nam-Gyu's jaw tightens. They are both irked.

"You think you can just talk to me however the fuck you want?" Nam-Guy says.

"Yeah, I do. And you're not gonna do a fucking thing because I give you drugs and you're a fucking junkie." Thanos laughs.

He continues to fuck you, slowly at first but speeds up as he hears your feedback.

Nam-Gyu is silent but the energy is different.

"You're a junkie, too. You chose drugs over your fucking career, man. Don't act better than me." He finally says.

Thanos snaps, "Did I not tell you to sit on the fucking floor, bitch? Did I not fucking tell you that?"

"What makes you think I have to do what you say?" Nam-Gyu starts, "I'm over it. You think you're God's fucking gift to this earth when in reality you are a freak."

Thanos shoulders him off the bed and to the ground, "The shoes I came in here with cost more than your fucking rent, don't talk to me like that again."

Nam-Gyu stays on the ground but sits up. He rubs his shoulder, where he hit the ground.

"Should we show him how much of a freak I am, baby?" He asks, smugly, back to hovering over you in an instant.

He enters you, again. This time: no distractions.

He fucks you hard and deep; he's using you like a toy. His colorful nails dig deep into your hips, directing your every move.

"Fuck, Thanos..." You say and he digs his fingers into your soft skin harder.

"I love when you say my name." He groans.

You turn your head, Nam-Gyu sits on the floor, pathetically grabbing at himself.

Thanos grabs your head, harshly, and faces it back to him so you are locking eyes,

"Are you fucking him?" He asks, harshly.

"What... No..." You say.

"Then don't fucking look at him." He says, then lowering and whispering in your ear, "Don't pay him no mind, baby. Think about how good my cock feels, okay? Be a good girl now..."

"Yes, Daddy" you say, accidentally. Thanos grips the sheets in reaction.

"Fuck! Call me that again. Who am I?"

"Daddy... please..." You moan.

"Please what, baby?" He purrs

"I'm close..."

His pace quickens at your soft pleading as he hits the same spot over and over. Your legs are shaking soon, your knuckles white- gripping his hair.

You hear Nam-Gyu making soft noises beside you, straining his head to get the best view.

"Show me how good it feels, Princess." He says, he's fucking you so hard a bead of sweat drips off his jaw, splattering on your cheek.

Uncontrollably, it comes to you. You cry out, loud. This does nothing to slow him down.

"Yeah, baby? It feels that good?" He smirks.

When you finish, he doesn't stop, he continues, ruthlessly.

He only slows to lift up your legs so they're resting on his shoulders.

Nam-Gyu's pumping gets more reckless, he sits on his knees and moans softly after you finish.

You ride out your orgasm as Thanos grows closer. Your moans are meaningless streams of words now.

"Fuck... c'mon, baby... I'm so close." His eyes roll back.

"Please, cum inside me, Daddy" You beg.

With that, he's finally tipping over the edge, his thrusts getting sloppier as he fills you up.

"Yes, Princess, fuck... You're perfect..." He says, finally slowing down. He remains inside you only long enough to lean down and give you a quick kiss.

"That was fucking... amazing..." he says, out of breath. You both fall asleep right there, neither worried about Nam-Gyu.

[imblueeforyuu]

yandere frontman x male player reader

a/n i wrote this when i was high as shit and had to spend to much time editing it i want to kms

Your hole in the wall corner store was going bankrupt, you were millions in debt and your life was falling apart. This store has been in your family tree since forever, it was your family's pride and joy. And you were ruining it,  Of course you were. the one thing you had to live for was being taken from you. You were ashamed and embarrassed. Why did you have to be the one to ruin your family business? You felt hopeless, there was no way you could continue to live like this, i mean it wouldn’t be selfish to kill your self, right? You have no family to take on the debt you created, so it’s fine. Maybe it was best to take the cowards way out. Someone stopped you though, on your way back home a strange business man stopped you and offered to pay you if you played a simple game of Ddakji, you couldn’t turn that down, no way. In the end you managed to make half a million won, which was not nearly enough but you were out of options. The strange man gave you a card and went on his way. 

With nothing better to do with your already broken life you decided to join this game. You didn’t expect to win, god no, you just wanted to try something so you could say you really did attempt to make some money, and you didn’t just give up. 

You woke up with a quick breath, you look around quietly, you notice a 002 on your uniform. Interesting, were you the second person to join this game? Whose the first, they had to be more desperate than you to join so fast. You had a personal mission now, to find this number 1 guy.. You crawled out of your bed to start your search. Everyone was either waking up or still asleep. This would be your perfect opportunity to find this guy, or girl. You looked around for a good while and found nothing. It wasn't until the masked guards took you to the first game you gave up. You don’t know why you're so interested in this man you're sure it’s just some boring fat old man. you were so incredibly focused on finding this guy you didn’t realize people were dying around you. Well you did but it really didn’t matter to you. On the walk back you noticed something, your number 001! And two guards leading him to the line of players, why was he with them? Maybe he got separated but you doubt it. You are definitely going to keep an eye on him now. 

“Hey your number one,” you stated, you really weren’t good with interactions. your dad always used to tell you that your awkwardness was what was going to run the store to the grave, and it really did. 

“Oh, yes I am,” he said looking into your eyes. You stare back looking at every detail of his face. He was older but definitely still attractive. He didn't look like he belonged, he had the look of someone more well off. You glare slightly before continuing walking. You felt his stare bore into the back of your head.

Next was voting, you pressed O, you did want to continue the game. Why would you want to stop here, it was fun, and easy. It was just kid's games. It had been awhile since you were a kid  but you're sure you still had it in you. You went back to your bed and sat observing, there was a group of people surrounding the person claiming they’ve played this before, You can’t blame them who wouldn't be intrigued? you also noticed a purple hair guy and his little minion pick a fight with some other guy. Boring, what wasn’t boring was the reaction of a certain number one. He was really interesting, first he supposedly worked with the guards and now you've learned he's really good at combat. Maybe he was secretly a guard, or some type of spy, you needed to gather more information on him. You look around the room and notice player 456, the crazy one. Maybe he knew something. 

Your chat with him was unsuccessful, player 001 came back, the very person you wanted to gossip about. Maybe you didn’t want to talk about him exactly, still if he was someone important and noticed you trying to get more information you're pretty sure he’ll have you killed. Unintentionally you’ve found yourself part of 456s group. You tried to slip away when 001 came back but you were too slow. Fuck now you were stuck interacting with this creep. 

The time the second game happened you’re so done with these people. Player 001 whose name you've learned to be Young-il especially, he made you feel nervous, it’s probably all in your head that he’s a spy or something. You’ve done this before; get it in your head someone’s out to get you when they're really innocent. But there's definitely something off about this guy. 

6 legs was pretty much boring, you split away from  gi-huns group as soon as the opportunity came. You don’t dislike the group by any means but they were loud, you've always been so introverted.  Maybe you were just jealous, you probably were.

“002,” 388 came up to your bed with the rest of the group following behind . You peel your eyes open, god you're not ready to talk to them.

“Yes?”

“Where did you go?”

“I lost you guys,”

You probably shouldn’t make them hate you especially because they were your ticket to a good amount of money, even though they were against the games they were smart. And strong. Perfect for victory. They started talking about voting and you could care less. you wanted to keep these games going. 

Mingle was annoying, you were the last pick of the group. When it finally was time for two players, young-li grabbed your Hand. You expected him to pick gi-gun who was practically his boyfriend, but no he picked you. When you got to the room you didn’t expect someone to already be there. You were at a loss. Maybe it would be best if you just walked out. But young-il can never not shock you? He grabbed that poor man and snapped his neck. You were shocked but that proves your suspicion, this man was not who he seemed. 

It was Time for gi-huns master plan. To fight back, you didn’t have the heart to tell this delusional old man there was no way he would win but you did have a use for this. Finally proving that number one was evil. You were going to wait and see him betray them, but You decide to join the raid and follow in the back. When it was time to go to the front office you joined young-il and the group that went with him. You said you were going to stay with 456 and 390 but secretly followed behind him and his group. You saw everything, him shooting the people with him, him pretending he died and his smirk at the camera. You smile. perfect.

“Got you.” You raised your gun to face him. He didn’t seem to take you seriously, he smiled softly before moving closer. You glare.

“Back up,” you yell, you clutch the trigger. 

You shouldn’t have let your guard down so quickly, you saw him reach to put his gun down. Seeing him submit you released your grip on the trigger just a little bit. He must have seen you relax, because Out of nowhere he grabbed his gun again and shot your leg. You fall over unable to hold yourself up. You saw young-il move closer towards you until he was standing right by your head. He crouched down before smiling even wider. You look into his eyes, you were expecting anger not pure bliss in your bloody weak body. Your world went black.

When you woke up you noticed you were on an uncomfortable leather couch. Your head was propped up on a pillow. Your eyes were still somewhat blurry. You reach to rub the blurriness out but you notice your hands were tied. You try not to panic just yet but that fails miserably. You look around desperately and wiggle around, unintentionally knocking something off a table, ouch now your leg hurts. You freeze for a moment, damn it now your kidnapper knew you were awake. The elevator door dings causing you to flinch, fuck time was running out. Quickly you rush to hide somewhere. Unfortunately your feet and hands were tied so there was not much you could do. Of course besides rolling. You quickly roll under the couch which fortunately was tall enough for you to fit under but damn, rolling off the couch must have reopened your gunshot wound , you almost scream in pain. You heard the clicking of dress shoes come closer, they stop for a moment before continuing. They stop right at the front of the couch before the owner of the pair of expensive shoes starts to talk

“You know your feet are showing,” young-il, if that even was his name, said. You kept quiet even though you knew it wouldn’t help at all. 

“You can come out,” he paused before continuing. “I’m not going to hurt you, I just want to talk.”  

Talk my ass. There is no way he just wanted to talk, if so why would he kidnap you? Yes, maybe you held a gun to him but still. You crawl out from under the couch, Or well wiggle out. When you finally managed to get out you saw young-il he was drinking a glass of whiskey. You were still on the floor wiggling around trying to free yourself from the rope. Young-il stood up and crouched by you. 

“What happened to all your confidence? You were so sure of yourself with that toy gun of yours,” he smirked and started to pat your head. You flinch and scrunch your face. 

“Fuck you,” you glare.

“Sh [name],” your eyes widened, you don’t remember telling him your name. But if he was the mastermind behind this you guess he would know your name after all. It still did disturb you. He disturbed you. The way he smiled, the way he crouched, and how he patted your head. There was something off about him, I mean of course there was. You felt helpless, he had tied you up and was treating you like a child. You spit at him, what else could you do? You were helpless, ok? That seemed to make him mad, good. He stood up abruptly and stared down at you. He kicked you swiftly. the middle of your back hit the leg of the couch. You winced and curled up into a ball. 

“What the fuck do you want from me,” you glare at the floor. You were still in the ball and your voice was low. You're not sure he could hear you. 

“Hm, you.” you heard the leather of the couch crinkle as he sat. What did he mean by you? Why Did he want you? You were just a failing business owner, you were about to end it when you were invited to these games. Maybe he liked that stuff? You hugged your legs closer, being careful of your wound. Why the fuck did you have to be so interested in him?