#and based on NOTHING he's kept insisting no the printer will do all that
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god fucking damnit once again I have been asking for necessary information for WEEKS and now we've missed deadline and everyones mad at me bc stuff has to go to the printer without management feeding in and they're like WHY HAVEN'T I SEEN THIS BEFORE and I'm like BECAUSE IT'S EXISTED FOR HALF AN HOUR BECAUSE NOBODY TAKES MY WARNINGS ABOUT DEADLINES SERIOUSLY UNTIL AFTER THEY'VE PASSED.
#red said#i partially fucked up here by miremembering a solid deadline as a flexible one but also I was asking for a brief for like a month#and i got a brief on Wednesday and i was off on Friday. so you know. I'm not taking this one on 100%#this happens Every Fucking Year#and i love my colleague but he's shit at managing this project. i have repeatedly said 'hey i think we need to decide on this'#and based on NOTHING he's kept insisting no the printer will do all that#shock fucking horror come Friday it's 'apparently the printer can't do that we need to design it'#YEAH I KNOW I HAVE BEEN SAYING#and it's an awkward size to fit a lot of info on so it's taken like. 3 hours.
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Gifted
Summary: The holidays are finally over and she Mingi and Yunho can finally come home. They exchange their gifts and share an unforgettable first under the Christmas tree.
Word count: 8.3k
Content warnings: warm, fuzzy, intense smut. Double penetration, oral sex, finger sucking, mild restraint and control. Cuddly aftercare.
The moment they walked through the door to their house they finally felt like they could breathe. Although Mingi wanted to immediately pull them into his arms, in the end, cooler heads prevailed and they did all the things they needed to do first. They unpacked their clothes, made food, and got all the presents they had received into places where they belonged. School would start on Monday, but that left them with a couple of days just for them. Everything was right in the world.
The Christmas tree was still up in their living room, just waiting for them to do their own private Christmas together. Aside from Yunho getting his suit from Mingi, they still hadn’t given each other the gifts they had bought for each other. While she finished preparing their food, the boys wrapped their presents. Her present was already wrapped in a simple bright red envelope with both of the boys' names written on the front in shining gold lettering. She stood the envelope in the branches of the tree, among their sparkling lights.
When the boys emerged from their rooms, presents in hand, they found her waiting for them in the living room with the food plated and warm mugs full of hot cider. They had made some carbonara as a quick and filling dish they could make with just things they happened to have left in the house. On her nearby laptop, soft music was playing. As tempted as she had been to put on Christmas music, it was starting to get to be too late in the year for it, and they had been listening to it on and off since Thanksgiving. Instead she had picked a little playlist of sort of melancholic instrumentals which would fade into the background of the room.
“What do you think about having a fire?” She suggested, giving her hands a little rub to warm them up. While they were gone, they had kept the heating low but warm enough to keep everything from freezing. No people meant no need to keep the house warm enough for comfort, and now it was going to take a little bit of time for the house to get back to its normal warmth.
“Yeah, that sounds good,” Yunho agreed.
“Would one of you mind bringing in a little more wood while I get it started?” She stood up, heading towards the fireplace. Mingi nodded and went to grab his boots and coat, while Yunho moved to work on getting some kindling ready. She swept the last of the ashes that had been left in the grate down into the little slats that dropped into the built in ash drawer. Yunho then took the little drawer to empty it into the bag of ashes they were collecting on the porch. By the time he got back, she was stacking some of the smaller logs they had inside on the crumpled and knotted newspaper he had helped to prepare. She stood up, getting ready to reach for the super long matches they kept on the hearth, but before she could try, Yunho came up behind her, taking them off the somewhat high shelf to pass to her. He loved when he could do something for her, something simple but helpful. It gave him a deep sense of satisfaction to feel useful or needed, even just for silly things.
Mingi came in, arms burdened with an abundance of wood, just as she slid the drawer back in. Striking the match against the base of the canister, she reached the tip of the lit match to the back of the grate, lighting the kindling from the back. After a few moments, the fire was crackling and popping as it started to come to life.
They ate their meal as they watched it, making sure that it was going to properly catch and grow. With satisfying food, a warm fire, and the Christmas tree’s glow filling the room, it really felt like they were home. When she started to gather the dishes to take them to the kitchen to do, Mingi stopped her, insisting it was his turn to do them and it would only take him a couple of minutes. Afterall, she had already done the dishes they used while cooking. She smiled and let him go as Yunho pulled her into his lap.
“Welcome home, love,” he nuzzled into her hair as he spoke. “I’ve missed you more than you’d believe.”
“I missed you, too,” her fingers played with the cuff of his old, soft sweater. “I really love seeing my family, I miss them too, but home isn’t home anymore without you two.”
“Someday we’ll tell them,” he sighed, trying to reassure himself of this as much as her. “Someday we’ll have a Christmas all together; you, me, Mingi and all our families.”
“Maybe just us, your mom, and my parents,” she said after a moment’s thought.
“Yeah,” Mingi said as he joined them again from the kitchen. “Don’t make me always have to spend Christmas with my parents. Besides, when dad finds out I’m with Yunho, I’m pretty sure he is going to completely disown me.”
“Maybe...maybe when push comes to shove, he’ll actually pick his son over his prejudice,” she tried to give a half note of hope as she spoke.
“Even if he does,” Mingi shook his head as he sat down beside Yunho, pulling her legs into his lap. “I don’t know that I want him there to ruin my happy moments. Even if he can get over the fact I love another man, nothing I do makes him happy anyway.”
“He’s a sour moron,” she stated without a shred of doubt. “If he can’t see what an amazing person he managed to raise, he’s too stupid for me to tolerate.”
“As long as you see it, that’s all I care about,” Mingi took one of her hands in his and pressed a kiss to the back of it.
“We see it,” Yunho confirmed, looping an arm around Mingi’s waist.
“Who is ready for gifts?” She asked excitedly, changing the subject.
“Meeeee!” Shouted both of the boys together.
“Okay, one second,” she told them as she stood up. “I have one more thing to wrap.”
“Wait, why didn’t you do it earlier?” Yunho protested, giving her a scolding look.
“You’ll see in one minute,” she chuckled, knowing they would get it when she came back. She scurried back to their shared room and dug into her desk drawer where she had been keeping the small bag, knowing they would never have a reason to look for anything in there. In the little plastic bag she found the four pieces of silver and lace that made up the lingerie set. It was more for show than anything else, but the little satin tank top and shorts might be something she would use to sleep in when it was hot in the summer. She slipped the bra, mostly made of little lace triangles and thin satin straps, on, followed by the little satin and lace thong, then put on the more practical pieces over them before finally wrapping herself in her large, fluffy terry cloth robe.
She scurried back out into the living room having wrapped herself up for them and was greeted by both of them bursting into laughter, their faces splitting into broad smiles. Indeed they did understand why she hadn’t wrapped that present earlier. It wasn’t terribly practical for cooking or fire building. She pressed a light kiss to each of their lips before kneeling down near both of them.
“Can we unwrap you first,” Mingi questioned hopefully.
“No,” she laughed. “I’m last. But,” she pointed at the envelope in the branches behind them. “You can open that first, if you want.”
“Fine,” Yunho reached up and pulled it out of it’s perch. Both boys looked at it with an intense curiosity. The paper was a bright and vibrant red and had a fine texture to it. It was the sort of paper that begged for the use of fountain pens and sealing wax. Yunho ran his fingers over their names and made a little O face before turning it over to slide his finger under the flap to pull it open. Inside was a little card made from the same paper on which she had written a short letter.
To the boys who make every day special and who deserve the world. Someday I can give you everything you deserve, but for now, enjoy this.
Together they opened the card and found a couple of regular printer papers, folded in quarters. They put the card down and unfolded the papers to see what they were. The first page was a dinner reservation for the first Tuesday in April at a restaurant they recognized as a fancy place in the middle of Manhattan. Mingi’s eyes widened and he looked at her then back at the paper to make sure he had read it correctly. Yunho flipped to the second page to find a reservation for that week in April at a bed and breakfast in New York City.
“That will be over spring break,” she elucidated as their eyes scanned the paper. “Our first trip together. And it’s far enough from everyone so we can just be us. I also wanted a good excuse for Yunho to wear that suit you got him. It would look so good on him. I can hardly wait.”
“This...this can’t have been cheap,” Mingi protested slightly. “You didn’t have to…”
“I know,” she shrugged. “I wanted to. I want to see the world with you both and that is just the first place.”
“We could have paid for this together,” Yunho pointed out. “It’s too much.”
“No, no,” she shook her head. “You’re going to drive us and we can split the cost of everything else while we are there.”
“You aren’t paying for anything while we are there,” Mingi said firmly. Yunho nodded in agreement as he scanned the page of the bed and breakfast again. Located next to Central Park. A great location for entertainment and close to public transportation. Yunho folded the papers and let them drop to his lap. He leaned forward and pulled her into a quick, grateful kiss. She really was too much sometimes. Mingi set the papers and the card on the coffee table before he pulled her into his lap.
“I love you so much more than I can say,” he said as he held her face in his hands, keeping her looking at him.
“I can’t wait to go to the city with my two favorite people,” she beamed at him. “We are going to have so much fun.”
Mingi sighed and kissed the tip of her nose. Her expression was like sunshine and he felt a little quiver in his chest as his heart skipped a beat. She was always pretty and just looking at her could move him, but her grin, how it made her eyes sparkle and how her lips quirked just that way sometimes hit him like a freight train and he could feel the breath be sucked from his lungs. In those moments he knew pure joy and a gut churning fear all at once. It was the thing that made him sure he could endure anything mixed with the, perhaps irrational, fear that it could all disappear.
Yunho read the expression on Mingi’s face and gave him a reassuring kiss on his cheek. He knew that expression, that mix of contradicting emotions which sometimes washed over him. He trusted it more, trusted that it wouldn’t disappear, but in his worst moments he still had those flashes of doubt that he could be that lucky, that people could really love him that deeply, and no matter what might come. Yunho leaned his head against the side of Mingi’s head, silently reassuring him with his presence, his faith.
“Mingi, love, why don’t you open what Yunho got you?” She suggested, running a reassuring hand over his chest. Mingi nodded, taking his eyes from her face but keeping her in his arms. Yunho passed him the wrapped box he had put under the tree, letting it rest in her lap as Mingi began to rip at the paper.
Mingi laughed happily when he saw what was inside. The gift wasn’t the most expensive thing he had gotten that holiday, but it was one of the most thoughtful ones. With his old headphones wearing down from his constant use of them, it was something that showed how much Yunho paid attention to Mingi’s daily life and the things that made it better. He set the box on the coffee table with the papers and guided Yunho’s lips to his in a soft and grateful kiss.
“You like them?” Yunho said self consciously. “I know your old ones are starting to become unusable so I thought—”
“I love them,” Mingi interrupted. “And I’ll think of you everytime I use them.”
“I’m glad you like them,” Yunho gave him a blushing grin.
“Okay, now it’s our girl’s turn,” Mingi excitedly reached for the small package of his gift and placed it in her lap. He had wrapped it in silver paper covered in little white and grey snowflakes. She made a little cooing noise as she admired the pretty wrapping before she found the tape keeping it closed on the back side.
“Just rip it,” Mingi teased, poking at her.
“Fine,” She pouted slightly before complying and gently ripping at the wrapping. Under it she found a simple white matte box, which she carefully righted before opening it to see what was inside. There, she found the little silver and pearl choker he had bought for her a couple of weeks before break.
“Oh, it’s beautiful,” she commented, running her fingers over the small lines of seed pearls. The central panel, a square frame with a bright eight armed star in it’s center, sparkled in the low light. She carefully lifted it out of the box to better examine it, twisting it in her hand to admire the way the little crystals glinted and glimmered. She loved the elegant beauty of it, though she really couldn’t imagine what occasion she might have to justify wearing it.
“Can I put it on you?” Mingi asked, an excited glimmer in his eye.
“If you want,” she nodded, lifting her hair off her neck to make it easier. Mingi fed the necklace around her neck and brought the two sides together in the back, carefully working the fastening closed.
“Let me see,” Mingi said, leaning back slightly. She dropped her hands, letting her hair flow down her back again and turned to let him admire his gift on her. Though it hid slightly in the folds of the collar of her robe, the cream, sliver, and bright glint of the rhinestones looked remarkable against her skin. He loved it on her and he loved that it was his gift sitting there. It marked her as his at the same time it was a statement of his love of her.
“That is beautiful, Mingi,” Yunho praised from beside them. He lifted her chin slightly to get a clearer look at it, but also to admire how the angle exposed her neck. “It’s perfect for our girl.”
“What about yours,” Mingi reminded him, hugging her tightly in his arms.
“Here,” Yunho handed her the small blue box, tied with a white satin bow. It was long and less than an inch thick and slightly heavy in hand. She lifted it curiously and gave it a light shake, enjoying the sound of whatever it was shifting along with the slight crinkle of tissue paper. Pulling at one end of the ribbon, she undid the bow and tossed the scrap of satin off to the side. She lifted the lid off the box and folded the layer of tissue paper to the side. The hair comb, finally revealed, reflected the flickering of the fire and the color of the lights off the curves of it’s decorative scrolls and long tines.
“It’s a comb you can use to keep your hair up,” Yunho explained, pulling it off the pillow of tissues in the box.
“It’s lovely,” she took it from his hands and turned it over in her hands. “It’s real silver isn’t it?” She had taken note of the little makers' marks that had been impressed into the metal near the base of the crest.
“Yeah,” Yunho nodded, nervously watching her reaction. “I saw it and I could just picture it on you. It would look so pretty in your hair.”
“Thank you,” she pulled his face to hers and gave him a slow sweet kiss. “It’s perfect. Practical, elegant, and thoughtful.”
“Can I put your hair up with it?” Yunho proposed. “I want to see it on you.”
“Of course,” she nodded, and started to get up. “I’ll go grab my brush.”
“I can grab it,” Yunho stopped her and hopped up himself, dashing down the hall to get it. He found it on the counter and caught sight of himself in the mirror. After the long trip home he looked a little tired and his hair was a little bit of a mess, but if you couldn’t look a little like a disaster at home, what was the point?
He headed back into the living room to find her and Mingi cuddling under the tree together. They looked precious, her small form enveloped in his long arms. Mingi’s face had a peaceful relaxation to his features that had been missing the whole holiday back with their families. Their inability to be themselves there had impacted them more than they would have guessed it would have. Afterall, six months ago that was their reality full time, but what a difference those few months had made. Home didn’t quite feel like home anymore now that they had been able to live as themselves, fully and openly.
Mingi turned, catching Yunho in his gaze and flashing the other boy a smile. Yunho moved forward and joined them again. She shifted to sit between his legs, giving him her back so he could brush her hair. He really loved when she let him play with her hair. He loved caring for her and taking little moments where he could just touch her without it leading to something. Even when it often did, he had to admit. He ran the brush through her locks, carefully removing the tangles before he started gathering it up towards the crown of her head. Twisting her hair into a bun, he gently fed the comb through the knot to secure it.
“Let me see,” Yunho put a hand on her shoulder, urging her to turn to face him. Turning where she sat, she looked up at him through her lashes, keeping her head slightly down to make sure that he could see the comb and his handiwork.
“Is it pretty?” She asked him.
“It’s nothing compared to you,” he responded, capturing her lips and lifting her face up to his. Her lips were soft and warm under his, tasting slightly of apple. He wanted her, he wanted them, and felt like it had been almost forever since he had been able to touch them without looking over his shoulder.
“Do you both want to unwrap the last present since you have both given me your gifts now?” She suggested, pulling away from him.
“Are we unwrapping you?” Mingi sounded excited as he drew up behind her.
“Yep,” she wagged her eyebrows at him playfully. Mingi’s face split into an excited grin that extended up to his eyes, making them into little joyful crescents. She stood up and grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch, spreading it out on the floor in front of the fireplace. She knelt down on the floor and crooked her finger at her boys, inviting them to join her. They hurried to join her, each taking a side.
Mingi’s hands went to the tie at the front of her terry cloth robe, pulling at it until it was untied. Yunho’s hands went to the front of the robe, pulling open the sides to reveal what was underneath. He slid the robe off her shoulders with Mingi’s help, and tossed it off to the side. She knelt between them in the silver satin set and the gifts they had given her. Somehow it almost looked like they were meant to be together, a symphony of silver and pearl. She knew how to present herself in a way that made it clear she was giving all of herself to them.
“You look so pretty,” Mingi let his eyes flow over the cascade of silver colored satin the draped her curves. “You are my favorite present of the year.”
Yunho laughed but had to agree, her invitation to intimacy tonight was the best gift he could have imagined. “You look perfect, but I’m feeling a little overdressed.”
“You are,” she chuckled. “But I think you could probably help each other with that.”
Yunho caught Mingi’s eyes over her head at the suggestion. He raised an eyebrow to the other boy, as if to ask, what do you think. Mingi gave him a little nod and they both scooted forward to stand before her, where they could reach each other and make quick work of their clothing. Mingi blushed as he looked into Yunho’s warm eyes, enjoying the desire that was lighting them from behind. Yunho leaned forward and brushed his lips over the sharp angle of Mingi’s cheekbones, feeling the heat of the blush that covered them.
“I’ve missed you like this,” Yunho told him as he pulled him against him. The line of their lean bodies matched, hip to hip, where Yunho’s large hand held the two of them together. He could feel the soft bulge of Mingi’s half hardened erection press against him and gave it a teasing rub of his own hip against it.
Mingi let out a small groan and put his broad hands on Yunho’s biceps. “You’re such a tease.”
“And you love it,” Yunho said proudly.
“Shut up,” Mingi laughed, moving his hands to the hem of Yunho’s black t-shirt.
“So impatient,” Yunho teased, but still lifted his arms over his head to let Mingi pull his shirt off him. The sight of Yunho’s bare chest sent a shock of pleasure through Mingi. He loved the perfect, soft, lean muscle of his body. Ever so slightly bulkier than Mingi’s own, he loved the naturally muscular body of the other boy. He simultaneously wanted his own body to be more like that and wanted to luxuriate in the exploration of it. His fingers brushed over the hollow in Yunho’s collarbone, a silly smile on his face as he did.
“Here,” Yunho reached for the buttons on the front of Mingi’s white button up shirt and made quick and nimble work of them. He slid it down off Mingi’s broad shoulders, kissing along his neck to the tip of his shoulder on one side as he did. Mingi let the shirt drop before bringing his hands to tangle in Yunho’s messy locks as his lips moved over his body.
Keeping his lips on Mingi’s body, his fingers dropped to the button on his jeans. Yunho flicked open the button and slid the zipper down. His fingers slipped in the waistband of Mingi’s jeans and boxers, slowly lowering them over his narrow hips. When the cloth fell, pooling at his ankles, Yunho’s hands moved to cup the small tight muscles of Mingi’s butt.
Mingi stepped out of his pants and pulled back enough to be able to see as his hands worked to remove Yunho’s as well. Yunho stepped out of his pants as well as Mingi’s fingers tickled along the fine, muscular v of muscle where his stomach became his hips and more.
“You look so good,’’ he told Yunho, not able to meet his eyes as he complimented him.
“So do you, my love,” Yunho hooked a finger under Mingi’s chin, lifting his face to meet his. Mingi shrugged shyly, not sure how to answer, when he felt like he wasn’t nearly as beautiful as his two partners.
“You’re both beautiful,” she said from where she still sat on her heels in front of the fireplace. When Mingi turned, she was looking at them both with such admiration he could almost believe it himself. She motioned for them to come back, reaching out for Mingi first as he came close. Sitting beside her, he admired the soft curves of her body and the grace of her limbs as she touched him. Her gaze followed her fingers as they danced over his chest and collarbone, then moved up to brush an errant lock of hair off his forehead.
“I love your face,” she said softly, cupping his cheek. “It makes me so happy just to look at you.”
“When you look at me like that,” he softened at her smile. “I feel like I could do anything.”
“Let’s start with unwrapping our gift just a little bit more,” Yunho suggested. Mingi eagerly agreed, his hand slipping in under the hem of the tank top to tickle at her waist before lifting it. Yunho helped from the other side as they slid it up and over her head, careful not to catch it on the comb or necklace. They were surprised by the light lace bralet she wore underneath, but not unpleasantly so. The triangles of delicate lace cupped her breasts, only barely hiding her nipples behind their gauzy fabric. Mingi’s fingers traced over the seam that ran down the center of one before cupping her breast and giving her nipple a brush with his thumb.
“I don’t know if I should be frustrated by the layers or if I like the surprise of it,” Yunho joked from the other side, running the fingers of one hand along the thin strap that held it up. She came to her knees and hooked her thumbs in the elasticized band of the silken shorts and slowly slid them down to reveal the satin and lace thong beneath.
“Just a little more,” she admitted with a giggle as she saw Mingi’s Adams’s Apple bob in his throat as he swallowed past the arousal that was filling him. Between her teasing lace lingerie and Yunho’s beautiful naked body visible just past her, he felt surrounded by temptations.
She stood up to step out of the shorts and Mingi took her gently by the hips, turning her standing body to face him, and brought his mouth to the dimple of her belly button. He mouthed the soft skin there, nipping the skin of her belly as his fingers tightened to dig into the cushion of her hips. Behind her, Yunho took the opportunity to splay his hands over the roundness presented to him, perfectly framed by the thin straps of her thong underwear.
Yunho pulled the panties down and off while she stood, not wanting to wait much longer and taking advantage of the ease the position offered for doing so. He helped her step out of them before he slid two long fingers into the crook of her thighs. Her knees twitched as he teased her lips, spreading the moisture already pooling there. He licked his fingers clean, then set to work unhooking the teasing bit of lace she still wore on her torso.
Mingi was still busy licking and tasting the flesh of her stomach as he worked himself lower to the juncture of her thighs. Yunho pulled at her, asking her to sit again and she acquiesced, slowly coming to sit between his thighs. She could feel his erection at her back and went to reach for it when he grabbed both her wrists.
“Not yet,” Yunho murmured to her. “Mingi, I’ll hold our girl, you make her scream.” His voice held an uncommon sort of determination and Mingi looked at him a second before nodding and moving to lie on his stomach. Mingi used his hands to adjust her hips to an angle that let him comfortably reach her then pressed her thighs wide. He leaned forward and dragged the tip of his tongue over her spread lips, teasing them and drawing a soft gasp and twitch from her.
As Mingi teased her with kisses along her inner thigh, Yunho took both her wrists in one of his large hands, keeping her from touching either of them. He kept them captive against her chest as he held her against him. Over her shoulder he could see everything that Mingi did to her, loving the intense and pleasurable look he had as he worked up to taking her with his mouth. When he finally gave her clit that first intense brush with the flat of his tongue she tried to arch and let out a low shivering moan.
“Shhhh, love,” he teased, kissing the pinking shell of her ear. “You can’t make it that easy on him. He’s barely touched you and you’re already going to scream for him? Can’t have that. Let’s keep your mouth busy.”
He parted her lips with the fingers of his other hand, slipping two fingers into her mouth up to the second knuckle and pressing down lightly on her tongue. The intrusion forced her to suck on his fingers with each swallow as well as kept her facing to where Mingi lay between her thighs. She whimpered around his fingers, giving them periodic sucks to keep the drool that threatened to pool in her mouth from dripping out.
Mingi looked up at the two of them as Yunho held her gently captive and muzzled, a haze of arousal darkening his deep brown eyes. Her eyes met his as his tongue played along her folds. She looked dazed, almost drugged by pleasure, her lips puckered around the other boys fingers in a way that made him think of them taking in other things. Mingi watched as he locked his lips around her clit gave it a gentle and sustained suck. She squirmed as much as she was allowed under his touch, her thighs fighting against his hands to press closer around his head. Her mouth went momentarily slack and a small drop of saliva escaped before she could swallow it. The look of her powerless against the pleasure they were giving her together made him almost painfully hard and he threw himself into pleasing her. He ate at her body, sucking at her most sensitive bits and thrusting his tongue in her tight entrance until she came apart underneath him with a force that left her quivering in its aftermath.
Mingi pulled back and came to his knees between her thighs before wiping the moisture off his face, watching her squirm, still moaning around Yunho’s fingers in her mouth. The other boy only pulled them out, also releasing her hands at the same time, as she started to recover, already relaxing again under his grip. He wiped her damp chin and the skin of her chest, where a small spot of drool had developed near where he had kept her hands captive. She swallowed and leaned her head back against Yunho’s shoulder as she caught her breath.
“Are you ready for more, love,” Mingi asked, running a hand over her shoulder.
“I wanted to try something,” she said as she nodded in response. “What would you think of maybe having you both in me at the same time?”
Yunho and Mingi shared a look, blinking for a second at each other. Of course they had thought about it, fantasized about the possibility, but they hadn’t wanted to ask. Not only hadn’t they approached the idea of doing it together, they hadn’t even tried something more than mostly vanilla sex with her.
“We don’t have to,” she followed up quickly when it seemed like the silence stretched on.
“No,” Yunho rushed to assure her. “It’s just...are you sure?”
“Why wouldn’t I want to?” She looked up at him with eyes that seemed oddly innocent given the circumstances.
“Well, I mean,” Mingi said nervously. “You’re sort of small and we’re a lot to take all at once.”
“We can try it at least,” she suggested. “If it doesn’t work then we don’t have to, but I want to feel you both.”
“Alright,” Yunho agreed, swallowing past his own nervousness. “Do you want to move back to the bedroom?”
“I kind of want to stay here,” she replied. “It’s warm and this is sort of still part of Christmas. It feels right with the tree and stuff.”
“Mingi, can you grab the things we need from the bedroom?” Yunho requested. “Maybe including some pillows.” Mingi nodded, half jogging down the hall to their bedroom. He opened the bedside table and pulled out his favorite lube and a couple of condoms, something that had made it easier his first time with Yunho. Grabbing an armful of pillows, he scurried out to the living room. They were still waiting where he had left them with Yunho holding her against his chest.
Butterflies fluttered in his stomach as Mingi came near. He tossed the pillows on the side of the blanket nearest the fireplace and put the condom and lube near Yunho’s leg before taking a seat in front of her.
“How do we start?” She sat up a little straighter and ran her palms down her legs, revealing the niggling anxiety she had bubbling inside her.
“Let’s lie down,” Yunho put a guiding hand on her shoulder, bringing her to lie on her side with a pillow under her head. Mingi lay down on the other side, face to face with her, giving her a shy, reassuring smile. Yunho stretched out behind her, putting a hand on her hip as he pulled himself closer.
“Hi,” Mingi said somewhat stupidly as he looked into her eyes.
“Hi,” she giggled back. “Would you kiss me?” Mingi nodded, scooting towards her until his face lay beside hers on the pillow. He lifted her top leg to rest on his hip and put a hand on her ribs as he leaned in to take her lips.
While Mingi kept her distracted, Yunho tried to figure out where he wanted to start. He had to take it slow, test the waters. He waited, watching as they kissed, their lips moving with an unhurried stupor. She relaxed under Mingi’s touch in the flickering of the firelight and Yunho let his hands wander to the curve of her hips. As his hand moved to cup the curve of her ass, she pulled away, turning slightly to look at him.
“Just relax,” Yunho urged. “Kiss our boy but promise you’ll tell me if I do something that hurts or just doesn’t feel good.” She nodded and moved back to Mingi, letting Yunho slowly touch her. Mingi pulled her closer, pressing her chest to his as he explored her mouth more deeply. He knew to distract her, keep her relaxed and feeling good, it would help make everything else easier.
Yunho cupped her flesh, spreading her cheeks and letting his fingertips tease along the smoothness there. She reacted to his touch without breaking the kiss, flinching a little before relaxing into his touch. Yunho took a little of the lube on his fingers, spreading it liberally around her. She let out a slightly tense chuckle and pulled her lips from Mingi’s.
“Maybe we shouldn’t,” Yunho sighed, taking his hand back. “We can do it another night.”
“No, no,” she insisted. “I’m just nervous and it kind of tickles. Just keep going.” Yunho nodded, letting his fingers return to test the tenseness of her body as he kept his eyes on her face, trying to read her expression. Her eyebrows raised slightly as he pressed against the tight ring of muscle, but she didn’t pull back. She let out a deliberate breath and closed her eyes, concentrating on the feel.
“Does it feel alright,” he asked, keeping his fingers moving gently as he felt her loosen up a fraction.
“Yeah,” she nodded, but didn’t move otherwise, finding it hard to stay relaxed if she did. “I feel like I don’t tease you nearly enough about having big hands.”
Yunho couldn’t help but laugh at her timely sense of humor. “Big hands? Love, I have big everything.”
“Oh, I know,” she gave a deep, breathy chuckle. “Just realizing it for totally new reasons all over again.”
“Here,” he pressed forward, getting one fingertip inside her. “How is that?”
“Mmmm, good,” she nodded and her muscles fluttered around the intrusion. “Keep going.”
“Yunho is always gentle,” Mingi assured her, kissing her forehead and stroking her upper arm.
“You both are,” she put a hand on Mingi’s chest and pressed a gentle kiss to the tip of his nose. Yunho continued to move as Mingi playfully covered her face in little kisses until she was left a mess of testing pleasure and giggles.
When he could comfortably scissor two fingers inside her, ever so slowly, he decided he had prepared her as well as he could. He slid the condom on and covered it with lube before laying himself down against her back, positioning himself to enter her. Teasing his head at her entrance, he used his hand to steady her hips.
“Ready?” Yunho asked tenderly.
“Yeah,” she confirmed. “Please.”
Mingi looked over her shoulder at Yunho as he lay on the other side of her. His face was tense with concentration as he slowly pushed inside. He sucked in a breath through his nose, taking in her scent and taking in the moment as he drew close to being fully inside her. She was still tight, but gave no sign of discomfort.
“How does it feel?” Mingi asked, looking at both of them.
“Good,” she answered. Behind her Yunho only nodded. He felt himself twitch in anticipation, still not sure if he should move yet.
“Should I...what should I do?” Mingi asked them, his hand massaging her waist slightly.
“Let me move a little,” Yunho’s voice was tight. “Just to make sure it feels alright with just me.” Mingi nodded and looked to her as he felt Yunho shift in preparation to flex his body for the first time. She moved at the sensation of him pulling out half way, her eyes widening and breath catching in her throat.
“It’s okay?” Mingi asked, a worried look flashing across his face. Behind her Yunho stopped in response.
“I like it,” she let out a giddy sound and Yunho felt relief wash over him. “What’s next?”
“Always so eager,” Yunho teased her from behind but sent a look to Mingi over her, giving him the go-ahead to try and enter her from the other side. Mingi adjusted the leg she had draped over his hip, having to move up slightly to be in the right place and at the right angle. She was left between them, the top of her head reaching just past their chins, seeming so small between them. Her hands went to rest on Mingi’s chest, moving with a jittery energy as she waited for him to enter her.
Mingi’s fingers moved to touch between her legs, making sure she was still slick enough for him to enter her comfortably. His fingers brushed over her sensitive clit, making her twitch and clench slightly with her whole body. Yunho let out a groan and bit his lip. Mingi wasn’t sure if he ought to apologize for accidentally teasing, but he couldn’t deny he liked the face that Yunho made in reaction. Mingi positioned himself and slowly penetrated into her body. She made a little breathy oh and Yunho’s eyes widened, a look of surprise coming over him.
“I can feel you,” Yunho breathed. His hand moved down to splay over her lower stomach, almost as if to test if he could feel Mingi invading her from both sides. Mingi pushed forward until he was completely inside. A shiver rode down his spine. She was usually pleasantly tight around him, but he could feel how much Yunho had already filled her. It was strange, Mingi had to admit, feeling both of them at the same time.
“How does it feel?” Yunho questioned both of them before directing a more pointed question to her. “Do you feel okay?”
“I feel so full,” she said slowly. “I want you to move.” Mingi nodded in agreement, putting his upper arm over her to hold Yunho’s hips behind her. Together, they tentatively moved, feeling the other through the thin wall of her body as they did. Within a few thrusts, the boys had managed to find an easy, synchronised rhythm. It was a strange and intimate pleasure that built between them. When they made love together it was always all three of them doing it together, chasing satisfaction as three parts of a whole. But this, this was somehow different. Between the way they could all feel each other at the same time and the way her body hugged them all the tighter with both of them inside it was a whole new experience.
Mingi would have sworn nothing could have felt this good. His hips stuttered in their movement and he felt the stroke of Yunho’s cock move along him through her body. It sent a thrill through him and his hand spasmed, gripping Yunho with enough strength to draw a hiss from the other boy. Mingi apologized, holding himself still in her as he struggled not to just let himself go.
“Mingi, baby,” she said from between them, feeling the tenseness suddenly suffusing him. “You can move. You can let go.”
“Don’t want to hurt you,” he shook his head.
“I’m okay,” she insisted. “It feels so good; just let go.”
“It’s okay,” Yunho echoed from behind her. Both the boys let go, finding tempos that only occasionally matched, but each sent bliss cascading through her body. Mingi reached his orgasm first, the excitement and novel sensations proving difficult for him to resist for terribly long. He spent himself deep inside of her, his cock twitching as he released the pent up cum that felt like it had been building up in him for weeks. He stayed inside her, enjoying the near overstimulation of Yunho stroking against him through her.
Reaching between them, Mingi began to stimulate her, hoping to bring her again though he hadn’t been able to wait for her. Her breathing quickened and he could feel Yunho thrusting still, though he was getting less steady in his movements. Around his softening erection Mingi felt her walls flutter and knew she was getting close.
“Come for me, love,” he begged, loving his fingers against her. “I’m sorry I didn’t last long enough.”
“‘s okay,” she panted, her breath hitching as the pleasure the boys were giving her began to overflow in her. “‘m so close.” Her words had taken on a lazy slur and her skin shimmered in the low light, having developed a fine sheen of sweat, sandwiched warmly between the two boys. Mingi moved his fingers faster and ground upwards with his pelvis.
Yunho moved faster in her, chasing his pleasure, knowing that she was close. He no longer felt the tight squeeze of sharing her body with the full, hard erection of Mingi, but she still hugged him tightly as he moved. The softness of her ass against his hips along with the light slap of flesh against flesh was heavenly. She let out a moan and her legs twitched and straightened as her muscles tried to flex when the pleasure washed over her. The pulse of her internal muscles finally pushed Mingi out of her body and Yunho felt the odd sensation of them squeezing, though not around him as they usually did. He felt them flutter against the base of his cock as he continued to thrust in her from behind. Seating himself as deeply in her as he could and tucking her tightly against his chest, Yunho came, filling the condom in long spurts.
Though he wanted to stay like that for as long as she would have allowed, he carefully pulled himself out and removed the condom along with him. She let out a sound of surprise and quivered again as he removed himself. Suddenly, it felt as though she was emptier than she had ever been and she struggled with the need to pull them closer to make up for it. It was an odd and overwhelming feeling after such an intense experience. Mingi started to pull away, just to get up and start cleaning the mess they made since he had had the most time to recover, but she caught him, her fingers clawing at him with their confused desperation.
“Don’t go,” she told him with a muffled distress, the tone catching the ears of both boys. Mingi scooted close to her again and sent a look to Yunho, still panting behind her.
“Everything okay?” he breathed, rubbing his palm over her chest.
“Yeah, yeah,” she said a little too fast and with too high a pitch to her voice.
“Babe,” Mingi’s hand went to her face, stroking the backs of his knuckles over her cheek. “Were we too rough? Does something hurt?”
“No,” she was quick to object. “I don’t know how to explain it. I just...don’t want to feel alone.” The boys looked at each other, blinking at her somewhat baffling answer.
“We’re right here,” Yunho soothed, giving her an extra squeeze as he did. “We just wanted to clean up a little, love.”
“I know,” She admitted, looking down a little.
“If I promise not to let you go,” Yunho proposed. “Can we move into the bath?”
After a moment she let her fingers drop from where they clung to Mingi and she nodded. Without a word, Mingi slipped away to start running the bath. Yunho held her, tucking her body tightly against his in the moment he gave Mingi to get things started in their bathroom. He rocked her gently, slipping his other arm under and around her as he whispered words of love into the quiet room. Finally he could feel her relax against him a little and he decided it was best to carry her to the bathroom, rather than ask her to walk back there with him. Standing up, he lifted her into his arms, facing him with her legs wrapped around his waist. She looped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his neck as he made his way down the hall.
The tub was half full by the time they got there and Mingi was in the shower rinsing himself off quickly. He poked his head out when he heard Yunho enter, still worried about their girl. Yunho stepped carefully into the large tub and lounged against the back of the tub as best he could, still holding her tightly against him. She didn’t say anything, but ever so slowly began to settle down in his arms until she seemed to almost go slack. Yunho gently dribbled water down her back where it was above the line of the water, trying to gently wash her without disturbing her.
Mingi, having finished his shower and gotten them all something warm to drink, returned to find her draped over Yunho’s chest as he carefully cupped water onto her back. Mingi set the drinks down, offering one to Yunho before kneeling down on the tiles beside the tub. Yunho, more thirsty than he had thought, downed a few gulps before passing the cup back to Mingi. Unencumbered by another body on him, Mingi decided it would be easiest for him to help by washing her as much as he could without disturbing her. He sponged down her back and along her upper arms, surprised that she didn’t really react, even to look at him.
Is she asleep, Mingi mouthed, catching Yunho’s eyes. Yunho placed his palm against her back to feel the rhythm of her breathing. It was slow and steady, seeming to indicate that she had, indeed, fallen asleep against him.
“What should we do?” Yunho asked, trying to get a view of her face, though it was tucked tightly in against the crook of his neck.
“Get her clean and tuck her in bed, I guess,” Mingi shrugged. Yunho could only agree, letting his hand move under the water to the apex of her thighs to swish and rinse her clean as best he could from that angle. She didn’t move as he gave her a light wash, only protesting slightly when he shifted her to pass her to Mingi who wrapped her wet body in one of their towels.
Mingi placed her in their bed and tucked her in under the covers before climbing in beside her. He pulled the comb out of her hair and slipped the necklace from her neck, putting both of them on the bedside table for the night. He spiraled her hair up and over the pillows in the hopes of keeping it out of the way for the night. Yunho emerged from the bathroom, clean and dry as Mingi finally settled down, spooning against her side. Yunho turned out the lights then joined them, pulling the covers high over all of them.
“Thank you for giving us so much,” Yunho whispered to her in the dark. “Thank you for giving all of yourself to us.” On the other side of her, Mingi gently nuzzled her cheek, giving it a little kiss before closing his eyes. Yunho reached across her, taking one of Mingi’s hand in his before finally letting his own eyes close.
Masterlist
#ateez#ateez smut#song mingi#jeong yunho#ateez imagines#yunho#mingi#mingi smut#yunho smut#kpop imagines#kpop smut#yungi#smut and fluff
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Video Game Review: Assassin’s Creed 3 (Ubisoft, 2012; Remastered 2019)
Genres: action-adventure, third person, open world
Premise: Desmond Miles and his team use the Apple of Eden to locate the Grand Temple of the First Civilization. To open it, Desmond must locate a key, known to his ancestors Haytham Kenway and Ratonhnhaké:ton (also called Connor) who were active during the American Revolution.
Platform Played On: PC (Windows)
Rating: 3.5/5 stars
***Full review under the cut.***
I am evaluating this game based on four key aspects: story, characters, gameplay, and visuals. I will be evaluating the remastered version of this game on its own terms, so I cannot speak to how it is different from the initial release.
Content Warnings: violence, blood, colonialism, racism, domestic violence
Story: Assassin’s Creed 3 initially follows Haytham Kenway, a new PC character and ancestor of Desmond Miles, as he journeys from Britain to America during the 18th century. Haytham is attempting to find the Grand Temple, a chamber once belonging to the ancient First Civilization, with the help of several colonists and a Mohawk woman named Kaniehti:io. Unable to open the Temple, Haytham initiates a romantic relationship with Kaniehti:io, resulting in a son (Ratonhnhaké:ton/Connor). It is revealed that Haytham is a Templar when he initiates one of the colonists, Charles Lee, into the order.
Years later, Ratonhnhaké:ton is now the PC character. His village is burned by Lee and his cronies, resulting in the death of his mother. The clan leader gives Ratonhnhaké:ton a sphere which contains a message from Juno. Juno leads Ratonhnhaké:ton to Achilles Davenport, a retired assassin who agrees to train him and renames him “Connor.”
The rest of the game focuses on Connor’s evolution as an assassin, his plan to seek revenge against Lee, and his angst regarding his parentage. I very much enjoyed the moral conflict in Connor’s storyline; Connor is resentful of his father’s involvement with the Templars, but also desires to find common ground with him once he hears of Haytham’s goals. I also really liked the Haytham plot twist, as it took me by surprise and prompted a lot of emotional investment in the family drama.
However, the sheer amount of things to do in the open world distracted from the plot and at times threw the pacing off. I also did not like some of the tropes that this game utilized to tell a story involving indigenous characters. Connor’s mother, Kaniehti:io, was a competent warrior and formidable personality, but was primarily present to have a white man’s child and then be killed for emotional shock value. I also don’t think this game pushed hard enough against colonialism, making the Americans out to be morally right despite their supposed “flaws” and showcasing some violence against indigenous people for shock value. However, I appreciated that this game featured many indigenous actors and put a lot of dialogue in indigenous languages.
Desmond’s story was much improved from Revelations. He’s back to working with his team, which made for fun character interactions, and his father also joins the mix, which nicely parallels the tumultuous Haytham/Connor relationship. The stakes are also much higher than in previous games regarding the First Civilization - whereas the team was previously looking for artifacts in the Ezio games, this game features the exploration of an actual Temple housing more information.
I also played the DLC, “The Tyranny of King Washington,” which follows an alternate timeline in which Washington has been corrupted by the Apple. Washington has declared himself King and rules America with ruthless tyranny. To take him down and combat the power of the Apple, Connor must channel supernatural powers derived from animal spirits. While the premise was incredibly interesting to me, the execution was rather poor, especially in terms of indigenous representation. Kaniehti:io was resurrected only to be killed again, and the story featured a lot of scenes of indigenous suffering, including slavery and violence. I also don’t think the “spirit animal” powers were portrayed in a way that was respectful of the actual religious/spiritual significance of spirit animals in Native cultures. I’m somewhat ignorant, though, so I would prioritize criticism from indigenous gamers rather than mine - see what they have to say about the base game and the DLC.
Characters: Haytham Kenway, the first PC character, is initially pretty likable in that he’s witty and charismatic. I like that he was sarcastic and seemingly well-polished, holding in his emotions like only a posh British character can. He was also shown to be brutal at the drop of a hat, and his feelings tended to get the better of him when it came to certain topics, both of which kept me on my toes. The fact that he is the first PC character creates a lot of sympathy for him, mirroring Connor’s later emotional turmoil when he’s being pressured to kill his father despite desiring an alliance.
Connor is a lot more stiff and broody, which is understandable due to the trauma in his past. While he isn’t very charismatic, I did like him as a character, since he was willing to call out the hypocrisy of everyone around him. I particularly enjoyed the way he highlighted how the Americans were all about freedom for the select (white) few - no one, not even Washington, escapes criticism, and it was refreshing to see a non-idealized portrait of the Founding Fathers through Connor’s eyes. Connor did have his sweeter moments, especially when interacting with the people living on his homestead, and I loved when he found joy in the family he made. I do wish he had been given more joy throughout the game - he so rarely expresses positive emotions that he seems like a stick in the mud.
Side characters, such as the Founding Fathers, were well-realized in that they weren’t portrayed as heroes. Washington is shown to be unable to deal with problems in any way other than by violence, and Adams is called out for his insistence that white colonists need to be free before enslaved Africans can be freed. NPCs living on the homestead are also given unique conflicts and storylines that made them feel real, and being able to converse with them at any point in the game was a fun way to feel connected to them.
Desmond is back to being his pre-Revelations self, balancing charisma and determination in a way that makes him compelling. Nothing is necessarily new regarding his characterization, so he acts more like a staple that links the Ezio games to the Haytham/Connor story, making them feel part of the same continuity.
Gameplay: I really enjoyed the way much of the gameplay from the previous Assassin’s Creed games is updated and reimagined for an 18th century setting. Parkour/free running is simplified, and target lock has been eliminated for a more fluid combat experience. Players also no longer need to use medicine to heal, as health regenerates automatically with time. Players can also use more of the environment to assist with stealth; haystacks and wells make a reappearance, as well as groups of people for blending, but Connor can also hide in tall grass, bushes, and behind corners. I also liked that Connor could whistle to lure enemies towards a hiding spot before taking them out.
In terms of weapons, Connor has access to some staples, such as the hidden blade, sword, bow, pistol, etc. but also has some interesting options, such as the tomahawk and rope dart. All of these options were simple to use and required very little practice to get right, though combat itself felt significantly more difficult than in previous games. Several enemies are difficult to take down, such as the Scotsmen wielding giant axes, but players who like a challenge might enjoy the increase in difficulty.
Connor can also recruit new assassins and level up their abilities, similar to Ezio’s actions in Brotherhood. The recruits are able to be used in a number of new ways, not just in a fight, which makes them fun to play around with.
Connor is also able to control his notoriety in much the same way that Ezio could, though instead of “heralds,” there are “town criers” and instead of assassinating a corrupt official, Connor can bribe a printer to create counter-propaganda. Pretty clever, if you ask me.
Collectibles such as Benjamin Franklin’s almanac pages, feathers, and treasure chests are also available and pretty standard - you collect them, you get rewards. Connor can also participate in side quests and challenges, such as a fight club and assassination contracts. To move around the large map, Connor can use fast travel, though to be honest, the map was so big that exploring it all could get tedious.
Also returning is the concept of full synchronization, which was a pain. Like the Ezio games, conditions for full sync did add some challenge to the game, but it was incredibly annoying to do a mission over and over again in order to reach 100%. I’d much rather have a single goal and go about it my own way without the impression of being penalized (even if that penalty doesn’t affect the gaming experience overall).
In terms of the economy, Connor is tasked with managing a homestead. Instead of improving the property or buying monuments, Connor recruits tradesmen such as loggers, miners, and farmers, as well as artisans such as tailors, innkeepers, and blacksmiths. The former group produces raw materials which can be turned into crafted goods by the latter, which Connor then puts on a caravan to be sold in town. Profits enable Connor to buy more weapons and consumables, and tradesmen/craftmen can be leveled up to produce more profitable goods through “homestead missions” which advance NPC stories.
Hunting is also introduced as a way for Connor to gain resources (such as pelts and meat), which are then used for crafting or for sale at trading posts. To hunt, Connor can use a range of tricks, including reading the environment for clues, planting snares, and using bait to lure skittish animals. I liked that hunting was always an option, but never required, since actually finding certain animals could be a chore. Connor also has the option of playing games such as Nine Men’s Morris to earn money through gambling at taverns, though I personally never opted for that. I did think the idea was clever, as it was a neat way to include micro-games in the larger structure.
By far, the most interesting new addition was naval combat. Connor can upgrade his ship, the Aquila, and go on a number of naval missions which earn him rewards. It took some getting used to, and often, the combat could be cumbersome, but I actually enjoyed myself quite a bit. These missions were never overly long, and some of them had interesting world building details.
The DLC has a lot of the same gameplay mechanisms, with the added bonus of “spirit animal powers” (see my assessment above). Basically, these are supernatural abilities that allow Connor to briefly turn invisible (wolf), fly short distances (eagle), and take down multiple enemies or smash through structures with great strength (bear). These abilities were somewhat insensitive thematically, but fun to use in terms of gameplay; I liked being able to sneak past enemies without needing to dart between bushes, and I loved flying across rooftops rather than jumping and climbing them. However, these powers also made exploring the map somewhat irrelevant - treasure chests primarily included consumables, such as arrows and rope darts, so if players find themselves preferring combat using a blade and animal power, there’s not much incentive to clear the map of points of interest. Nor is there much incentive to do side quests or challenges, as their rewards don’t add much to the gaming experience unless you use a lot of consumables.
Visuals: Assassin’s Creed 3 is a beautifully rendered game. The environments are stunning, whether they are seascapes or the wilderness on the “Frontier.” I also think the cities were well-done and eye-catching; even though buildings and streets were somewhat monotone (earthy tones), they never felt dull and little details made the design pop (things like posters/broadsides or splashes of color here and there).
Connor’s assassin outfit is also appealing in that it mashes up some 18th century fashion with accessories that denote his indigenous heritage. The red and white color palette from the Ezio games is replaced by a blue and white scheme, perhaps to show that Connor is not aligned with the British Redcoats, but even so, it still felt like an assassin uniform. I also liked the designs of Haytham’s cape, coat, and tricorne, as well as Achilles’ nod to his past through his accessories.
Animations were very fluid, and Connor’s combat maneuvers were interesting and varied. I think they were much more aesthetically pleasing than Ezio’s, and I liked how the body movements (tumbling, spinning) made them feel physical. There were some moments when awkward camera angles would obscure my vision, which cost me some kills or opportunities here and there, and there were occasionally some glitchy graphics, but they didn’t pull me out of the game the way Revelations did.
Final Verdict: Despite the plot being weakened by pacing problems and some questionable Indigenous representation, Assassin’s Creed 3 is beautifully rendered and improves on the franchise’s formulae by reimagining the Assassin-Templar conflict in a new setting.
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Alexandria Country Club 4
Pairing: NeganXOlivia (OC)
Warnings: cursing, discussion of violence, threats, the beginnings of dom/sub
Summary: AU! Olivia reacts to the threat. Negan takes charge.
A/N: I still can’t stop writing this fic... I have several more chapters planned for it! Eventual smut will happen, I promise!
“Okay, sweetheart, I need you to listen to me. Put the letter and envelope down on the table and don’t touch them.”
“Okay.”
“Now, lock the front door, and wedge a chair under it. Close your curtains, and stay away from the door and the windows.”
“O-okay…”
“I’m on my way. When you hang up with me, call 911. Tell them about the threat, and say you think someone’s outside the apartment.”
“But…”
“Say it. That’ll get them coming in lights and sirens. You’ll hear them and see the lights. Don’t open the door to anyone unless it’s me or the police. And only the police after you know for damn sure it’s them.”
“Negan, what if…”
“No, honey. Don’t worry about anything else but what I’ve told you to do. Get through the next little bit and I’ll be right there. Before you hang up, tell me what you’re going to do.”
“He knows where I live. How could he know where I live?”
“Babydoll…”
“He has to have followed me.”
“Livvy, honey…”
“Oh, god I could have walked right past him.--”
“Olivia!”
“...”
“Tell me what you’re going to do.”
“H-hang up. Call 911. Tell them about the letter and that I think someone’s here. W-wait for you to get here, or when I’m sure it’s really the police. Don’t open the door until then.”
“Good. Good damn girl. I’ll be there soon.”
Negan was right. The dispatcher kept Olivia on the line as she huddled on the floor in her living room, waiting for the lights and sirens. It felt like an eternity, though the clock on the wall seemed to barely move. The woman on the other end of the line kept her talking, reassuring her that help was on the way. All Olivia could think of was the words, neatly printed across the sheet of paper.
“To Olivia Sullivan, Dead Bitch Walking--I’m going to cut you open and watch you choke on your own blood. I want to see your eyes as you beg me to end it, and realize I don’t have that much mercy. Put your affairs in order. I’ll see you soon. --Your Secret Admirer”
It was far too graphic to be a joke, even one in poor taste. It had been slipped under her door in a plain white envelope. The paper was nondescript, the print ordinary. It could have come from any printer, at least from her brief examination.
Eventually, she heard the sirens. After an agonizing wait, she saw the red and blue lights splashing on her curtains. She felt a little better then, knowing she was safe. At least for the moment.
Even though she saw the lights, she still insisted the police show her their badges before she moved the chair and unlocked the door. Someone took the letter and envelope, sealing each into individual bags. She sat at the kitchen table as officers milled around her apartment, prowled the hall outside, and walked up and down the street. She responded to questions as best she could.
She was wholly relieved when she heard Negan’s voice in the hallway outside.
“Sir, do you live in the building? You should go back to your apartment,” said a well-meaning officer.
“No, I don’t. I--look, my...my girlfriend called me. She got a threatening letter. I came as fast as I could.”
She heard the hesitation in his voice as he described her as his girlfriend. And why not? They’d known each other less than a week. They’d been on two dates. It was still questionable what they were to one another. But it was the quickest way past the wall of cops.
She got up, gently pushing past an officer as Negan managed to get inside. In two long strides he had her against his chest, his arms hard and strong around her.
“Are you okay, babydoll?” he asked.
She nodded. “I’m okay. Just a little shaken up.”
The detective she’d been talking to approached. He gave Negan a narrow-eyed look, as though weighing the possibility he could be a danger. She could almost feel the suspicion center squarely on the man she was dating. She couldn’t much blame the detective; after all, it was a common occurrence for the boyfriend or husband to be at fault when a woman was threatened.
“This gentleman is your boyfriend, ma’am?” The detective kept his voice bland and neutral.
Well, Negan had started it. It was after all easier to explain than whatever it was they were at the moment. Then again, she had called him first. “Y-yes. Negan.”
“So, routine question. Where were you tonight, sir?”
She could feel him bristle at the question. He knew what was being implied, and it pissed him off. She squeezed his arm gently. Negan’s dark eyes darted to her, and he sighed. “We went to dinner earlier, and to the park. I dropped Liv off at her friend’s place and went home.”
Olivia nodded. “I left Adair’s pretty much ten minutes after he dropped me off and came right home.”
The detective nodded. She wasn’t certain he was fully satisfied with the answer, but it would do for the moment. “All right. So you came home, and found the envelope pushed under your door. Opened it, then laid it on the table. You say you thought someone was around the apartment?”
She felt a little guilty about the lie, but it had gotten them there in a hurry. “Yeah, I admit it might have been my imagination but I swore I saw someone hanging around the building. And considering the note, I was scared.”
“I don’t blame you. I took a look, it’s pretty graphic.” He pulled out a small notepad and jotted down a few words. “All right, can you think of anyone who might want to harm you? Any enemies, run-ins, grudges?”
“Well,” she began, and glanced up at Negan. She could see the muscles working in his jaw, the cold spark in his eyes. He was thinking the same thing as she was, and it made him angry. She took a breath. “There was an incident this weekend. I went to a wedding and… one of the guests tried to force himself on me in the cloak room.”
The detective raised his eyebrows. “Did you report him?”
She shook her head. “No. Negan caught him before anything happened. I understand that after I left he was still pretty angry about the whole thing. I didn’t think�� I mean that letter’s more angry than I’d have expected, but… well, he’s the only person I know of anywhere near here that might have it in for me.”
“Can you give me a name? If nothing else we can question him.”
She glanced up at Negan. Sending the police after Chet might make the fight in the parking lot come to light. True, it was fairly clearly self defense if there’d been three against him, but she didn’t want him to have trouble because of her.
Negan looked down at her, and turned to the detective. “Chet Applegate,” he said calmly.
The scribbling pen paused. The detective eyed them both, and his expression told her they’d just made a mistake. “Chet Applegate? As in, The Applegates?” he asked. He was smirking.
She felt her stomach sinking. Of course. What had she expected? She’d just accused the son of the most wealthy and influential family in town of slipping a threatening letter under her door. She’d accused him of attempting to assault her. The detective probably thought this was some ploy on her part.
Negan’s gaze darkened. “Yeah. Chet Applegate of the fucking Applegate fucking dynasty,” he grated. “He’s a weasley little shitstain who got pissed when the answer was no, and probably thinks he’s fucking clever terrorizing a woman in her apartment alone.”
The detective glanced up at Negan. He was quite clearly not taking this seriously anymore. “Sure. We’ll look into it,” he said. He turned to Olivia. “Say, do you have a printer, miss Sullivan?”
“Yes,” she said before she thought about the implications of what he was asking. She felt like she’d been slapped in the face. “What are you saying? Are you saying you think I wrote a death threat to myself? Why would I do that? Why would you think--”
He held up a hand. “Not implying anything, ma’am. Just covering all our bases. You wouldn’t mind if we borrowed the printer, would you? Just to rule it out.”
“Are you fucking accusing her--” Negan began. His eyes roiled. She laid a hand on his arm.
“You know what? Take it,” she said flatly. “I’ve answered your questions. Do you have any more? I’m very tired and it’s been a rough night.”
“I think that should cover it,” the detective replied.
It took another twenty minutes for the police to clear out of the apartment, carrying out the letter and envelope, as well as her printer. She could tell Negan was angry. His face was hard, his jaw tight. His dark eyes followed the detective with the cold gaze of an alpha predator. He didn’t say a word or make a move, though, which simultaneously relieved and worried her.
Finally, the officers and detective left, and they were alone. Olivia sat heavily in a chair.
“Fuck,” she said.
Negan paced back and forth across her living room like a caged tiger. His hands balled into fists and released. “Where the fuck does that fucking asshole get off fucking talking to you like that?” he snarled. “He didn’t fucking believe a word we said about that Applegate motherfucker!”
Olivia sighed tiredly. “I should have known. The police are probably in bed with the family. You don’t bite the hand that feeds you.”
Negan’s jaw set angrily. “Those worthless fucks aren’t going to fucking help.” Something in his voice was dangerous.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
He blinked at her, the anger suddenly gone, replaced with confusion. “For what?”
Olivia bit her lip. “I… when I found the letter… I should have called the police first but all I could think of was… was that you’d know what to do.” She was ashamed to admit it. After all, they’d only just met. They liked each other, certainly. But she’d chosen to involve him in something serious. Something potentially dangerous.
He caught her chin with one hand, forcing her gaze up. A small smile played on his lips. “That’s ‘cause you’re a smart girl,” he said softly.
“But, it’s not your problem. It could be dangerous. We’ve only been seeing each other a few days,” she protested.
“Shhh, babydoll,” he soothed. He leaned down, catching her lips with his own. He kissed her firmly, and perhaps possessively. “You did the right thing. And yes, I know what to do.”
She kissed him back. She didn’t mind that he wasn’t being gentle. After the scare she had, his possessiveness was actually soothing. As though he meant to keep her a part of himself, safe and sheltered. She was by no means powerless, or defenseless. At the same time, the letter left her feeling vulnerable and afraid. Someone knew where she lived. Someone meant to make her suffer. Having his reassurance, having him claim ownership of her… it gave her something solid to cling to.
It was as though he sensed her emotions. He pulled back, hand tangled in her hair, and fixed her with his dark eyes. “I’m going to keep you safe, baby. No one fucks with what’s mine.”
She ought to have been upset about his choice of words, she knew. But instead, she felt a swell of satisfaction and security. She was capable of caring for herself. Knowing someone else cared so much about her was almost intoxicating. She wrapped her arms around him, closing her eyes and resting her head against his chest. “Thank you,” she said softly.
His hand stroked her hair slowly. “Get a bag together. A couple day’s worth of stuff. I’ll take you to Adair’s place, okay? He has a security system, right?”
“Yeah,” she said softly. “Best that money can buy.”
He kissed the top of her head. “Good deal. You’ll stay with him. We’ll figure this out, baby. Whoever wrote that shit threatening you is going to regret it. I don’t give one single fuck if the police don’t want to do shit.” There was a hard edge to his voice. “Now, go pack a bag. I’ll take you to Adair’s place.”
She felt a little separated from herself, as though she were watching a movie. She didn’t think of much of anything except doing as Negan instructed. Academically she knew she was experiencing shock, and that what she felt was normal. Emotionally it felt as though she were removed from her body and from the world in general.
It was getting quite late, and she knew she wouldn’t be in any shape to work tomorrow, but she’d worry about that the next day. Instead of considering that, she headed into her bedroom, finding a backpack and throwing clean clothes, and toiletries into it.
She was nearly on autopilot. Negan told her to pack a bag for a couple days; she packed the bag. She would go to Adair’s, and she would be safe from whoever had written the letter threatening to kill her. Saying they would enjoy watching her breathe her last.
Thinking too much about the contents of the threat made it almost intolerable to be in her bedroom alone. She barely thought about what she pushed into the bag. She’d never packed so quickly, so haphazardly, in her life. All she wanted to do was go somewhere safe.
He hadn’t suggested his own home. Part of her was a little surprised. He was a security guard, surely he had security measures, but in the end it made sense. As she’d said herself, they’d barely been dating a week. Adair’s home was known, familiar, safe and secure.
Maybe Negan would even stay there.
She pushed the thought aside. There were much more pressing matters. Serious or not, there had been a threat made. One that promised to end her life slowly and painfully. Her safety was what ought to be concerning her, not her likelihood of spending the night with her handsome silver fox. That being said, part of her wanted to ask him to stay, once they got to Adair’s house. It had been a long time since she’d slept beside someone. It was comforting, having someone else beside her as she slept. She missed it.
She shook her head, trying not to focus on such things.
Finally, she felt more or less confident that she’d gathered everything she needed for the next few days at least. Surely things would blow over by then. Surely the letter was just a prank. A joke in extremely poor taste. Maybe a drunken impulse on the part of Chet Applegate, meant to intimidate her. She would be fine. She was just being silly and overreacting.
She hefted the backpack over her shoulder, and headed back out from the bedroom, feeling a little silly. Negan waited for her in the living room where she’d left him. It was then that she realized her mistake.
He was standing at the fireplace, staring at her wedding pictures on the mantle.
Hope you enjoyed! Yell if yo want me to tag you!
Tags: @glittered-unicorn-lava @adair-donovan @noodlecupcakes @feistybaby
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A Success Story For 15 Year Old Me
There’s this notebook I have, and it’s barely even readable any more. It’s written in the most ridiculous way. The first line is written normally, in English, from left to right. The second line is right to left. It alternates throughout the whole notebook. The first three pages carry on like this, and seem to be ranting about the evils of religion.
The pages are numbered in Mandarin. I don’t speak Mandarin, and as far as I know, I only know the characters for the numbers. I used to use them on everything.
The writing remains the same, but switches to a story I don’t recognize, with a character named Grant, I don’t remember creating. But the other names sound familiar. It keeps going with the story. In the margins, the characters from CSI are scrawled.
Then a blank page, not numbered. In the top margin, it lists the characters from SVU. After, it continues like nothing happened.
The pages after contain my complex plans to get a teacher fired for losing an assignment I never actually did. At some point, it changed the way it was writing. The pages don’t go from top to bottom anymore. The one on the left goes bottom to top, the first line reading from right to left, and the second line going from left to right. All the way up. The page on the right goes from top to bottom, the first line reading from right to left, the second line going from left to right.
By page 14, the words aren’t all in English anymore. I see a few words in Hawai’ian, but I never actually spoke it, only glanced through a dictionary once or twice. More words come in Hawai’ian. I don’t know what they mean, but in parentheses after them it simply says “molasses.
Then a poem. Right to left, then left to right, even though the lines don’t reach the edges of the page. It’s a poem about fire. I remember this poem, because it was the first one I ever wrote. But this wasn’t the time I wrote it. Then another. Someone named Hanna is sleeping. There’s a car crash. I can’t read all the words. There are arrows pointing to certain lines and I think that means something starts there.
Stuffed in one of the pages is a paper on how to take care of flowers.
Words jump out of the page. “Hollow bones crackling in the night”, “no, no, the nightmare’s just beginning”, “it was an accident”. I don’t remember this story.
A line, the question, “doesn’t syringe rhyme with orange?”
“What would happen if you abducted an alien?”
it looks like notes, still written left to right, then right to left. the theories of causation. Monard theory. These are not written from school.
a footnote in the margins, “I do not believe in god”.
names, lists of names. kidnapping. this story, I remember. But not with these names.
the lines going one way are in English, the lines going the other are in Hawai’ian. the only ones I can read make no sense “and a donkey”, “fear pants, and Republicans, and liver”
another poem, the same poem, “hollow bones, cackling in the wind” and upwards it goes.
molasses again. the whole page is in Hawai’ian now, except that. and the donkey. we’re at page 31.
and then it’s poems again, Samanda, one I recognize, and it’s sequels. written in glaring red, bottom to top, right to left, then left to right.
Glancing Looks. I know that one too. But it wasn’t written then. I was recording old poems, the ones I actually liked.
and then a memory, one I’ve never been sure was real. it’s written all in english, as normal as anything is here. a girl in a white gown, sprawled on a bed. she may have been me. she may have been a dream. I’ll never know for sure.
page 37. “there is no happy ending”.
a poem about how the government is spying on us, as if that was a piece of new information, that warranted poetry instead of old hashed out information that only really deserves a heavy, tired sigh. enthusiasm was something found on these pages.
detailed instructions on how to shrink heads, written the same way everything is her
Samanda, again. as if it hasn’t been written out before on these very pages.
and then a poem I haven’t seen in years, to a girl who changed my life in more ways than she will ever know, it tells me things I’ve forgotten about characters I created long ago
a poem about a man running from his problems, entitled only “pineapple”, I don’t know why.
and now it’s not in English, or Hawai’ian. Latin. I don’t know what these words mean but some of them are underlined, and somewhere in there, there are numbers. but not my numbers. Mandarin again. I don’t speak any of these languages. I don’t know if the words strung together mean anything, or if they’re only meant to distract.
another page of latin. and then a complaint about the existence of study hall.
the yale conspiracy. a forgotten concepts I abandoned long ago, based on the memories left over from age 5, ones that probably aren’t even real to begin with.
written over and over again. “don’t frame your global teacher. revenge is bad”.
in the margins, “note to self- don’t use pillows- neurotoxins” I didn’t listen
and then there’s math. like notes from an actual class. formulas. but I still followed the same pattern. left to right. right to left. it doesn’t work with math.
and now the language goes more confusing. I cannot tell anymore if the pages go from top to bottom or bottom to top. my ears and I laugh and shake her hands. away they drop down around to my waist
the letters are symbols now, on page 51? 61? I don’t know anymore. these symbols meant everything to me once upon a time and now... I see an S and U and two Ds and this says “suddenly”, but suddenly what, it changes mid-sentence
until it isn’t anymore, and it isn’t purple anymore either. but this is RPF, I can tell that much
fading ink on my jeans like the scars on my hands.
someone killed Joe #7. but what about the other 6.
a map, who are these people and why does it matter where they lived. Kyle, Michel, Ray, Joe, Rob, Lezlie
a poem I wrote on the back of a final exam and had to smuggle out so I didn’t lose it forever
I wasn’t even 15 yet when I wrote all this, but it was always my dream to become a mystery
a date! there is a date here, and I wish I knew what it was, but I don’t speak the language it’s in
6/11/08
14, and these must be notes
then it goes back to normal, but for 4 lines in the middle of the page, it’s symbols again, what was I trying to hide
just a line from a story, maybe one that was too real to reveal, I can read most of it now, with some effort “as always, I found myself wish she would come over and kiss me”
Algebra will never work backwards, maybe that’s why I don’t understand it
a whole page in symbols, except for a lightning strike
Missy. I forgot about Missy, and even now, as I hear the name, I don’t remember anything other than a sense of familiarity
and now it’s all her, because there was a time before novels, a time before I found a way to control my writing, a time when she was everywhere, but I couldn’t cement her down to just one character, because I knew her too well for that, there wasn’t as much room for imagination.
this is a mystery from before the demon, all of this, and I know now that I dated it wrong on the front of the notebook. this is not 2010. this is 2008, and this is before everything changed, when my mind was a scattered pile of mush, and that was all I really wanted to be, because it was all I could remember being, I wanted to be a mystery, like my great grandfather who kept his diaries in code to keep it from the world the time he saw three deer in the morning, and stared at them in awe, and 50 years later, there’s me, spending hours and hours deciphering what he wrote even though it was never worth hiding in the first place
it was all I wanted to be and here I am at 23, reading through my old notebook, 9 years later, and saying what was the point of hiding the little things in life, like finding a girl beautiful, and the fact that I like molasses.
there are mentions of stories here that I don’t remember, stories that I’ll stumble upon someday, and I’ll read, and I wonder if they’ll make sense to me, if I can pin point where each detail comes from and put my life back together from the stories I wrote. Ember Lee. Stormy Skies. Mouse.
and here’s me trying to stop myself, trying to make myself into something more than I was, because really, I was only ever just a girl with a good life, who wanted something more exciting than the same damn schedule every day for 10 years, with average grades, and average everything. tried to tell myself that I was a bad person for things that weren’t wrong, because I couldn’t understand the guilt I felt for the fact that boring me had everything and my friends had to suffer without
and maybe if I could go back and talk to myself, I’d say, hey, there’s nothing wrong with a crush, no matter who it’s on, but maybe I wouldn’t, because it’s not like I didn’t know that then too, I just chose not to listen to myself, because it was more boring
it’s not stories anymore, just words
the printers are out to get me, but what does that mean and why was it worth writing down, I know the answer to that, of course, I do. because everything is worth writing down, and if I don’t write stories, write something, then I am nothing, because all I am is made up of the words I’ve written because I remember nothing else.
I see the words on the page starting to form the story I recognize, starting to shape the character that will later start me on the journey I’m still riding on, the novels I’m writing, I see the names here, and who they are, but everything is still so different. they’re not them yet, but they’re on their way there.
and here we are in those six weeks I insisted on saying goodnight and good morning in Croatian every day even though I didn’t know any other words, but I knew those words, and they meant something to me.
I talk to myself, because my name doesn’t feel like mine, because I don’t know who I am, and I keep writing and writing until I find out who
I bet if you’d asked, I would have said I’d know by 23, but I don’t and that’s okay
and in my notes, it says write a book, well good news, me, I’ve written 36 soon to be 37, but sorry, I’ve never gotten around to learning Latin
planning for the future, planning to decode the Voynich document. there were so many things I thought I’d do, and here I am, having not done them.
and now here, at page 115, I write from left to write, top to bottom, nothing more.
at the end, it says only, “you can’t ride a buffalo through the streets of kansas”
I don’t think I’ll find my answers here, but I know that 15 year old me would have called that a success, because all she ever wanted was to be a mystery
#I don't know what this is#it's just words that existed as I read through an old ridiculous notebook that was not what I was looking for#writing#Notebook 21
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No one likes a boss who excessively scrutinizes work and constantly checks in. Not only is this micromanaging behavior annoying, it can stunt your professional growth. If you have a controlling boss, you don’t have to suffer. By assuaging a micromanages stress, you may be able to secure the autonomy you need to get your work done and advance your career.
What the Experts Say Micromanagers abound in today’s organizations but typically, it has nothing to do with performance. “It’s more about your bosses’ level of internal anxiety and need to control situations than anything about you,” says Jenny Chatman, a professor of management at Haas School of Business at UC Berkeley who researches and consults on organizational culture. The bad news is fighting back won’t work. “If you rebel against it, you will just get more of it,” says Jean-François Manzoni, a professor of management at INSEAD and co-author of The Set-Up-to-Fail Syndrome: How Good Managers Cause Great People to Fail. So you can’t change the way your boss leads, but you can change the way you follow using the these tactics.
Evaluate the behavior Manzoni cautions that all controlling bosses are not cut of the same cloth. On one end of the spectrum you have managers who have very high standards who like some degree of control. They may regularly send you back to rework something that doesn’t measure up. Manzoni offers Steve Jobs as an example of this kind of boss. They pay a great deal of attention to detail and exercise some degree of control but they don’t stifle those who work for them. In fact, you may be able to learn a great deal from them.
At the other end of the spectrum are people Manzoni describes as “pathological micromanagers who need to make it clear to themselves and others that they are in charge.” These are the bosses that give you little to no autonomy, insist they be involved in every detail of your work, and are more concerned about specifics, such as font size, rather than the big picture. “Micromanagers are obsessed with control. You know you are working with one if he or she gets involved in a level of detail that is way below his or her pay grade,” says Chatman.
Don’t fight it Both experts agree that it’s counterproductive to rail against micromanagement. “If you push back in one way or another — passively or aggressively — your manager may conclude you can’t be trusted and get more involved,” says Manzoni. It may be tempting to complain but it is not advisable. “If I sense disdain, I’m going to be encouraged to show you that on my forehead it says ‘boss’ and on yours, it doesn’t,” says Manzoni. Instead, try to understand what is causing your boss’s behavior. Is he under immense pressure? Is this his intuitive way of managing? Does the company culture encourage and reward this kind of behavior? By recognizing the underlying reasons, you can figure out how to respond.
Increase trust According to Chatman, micro management is usually “based on a general view that the world’s standards are not up to what they should be.” You therefore need to make a conscious and honest effort to earn your manager’s trust by succeeding in the dimensions that he cares about. “You absolutely, positively must deliver and deliver in a way that doesn’t increase your boss’s stress. In fact, identify things that reduce your boss’s stress,” says Manzoni. He suggests you say to your manager, “I see you’re under unbelievable pressure, how can I help?”
Make upfront agreements Another tactic is to talk to your boss — before a project starts — about how she will be involved. “Try to agree on standards and basic approach,” says Manzoni. Explain what you think the ideal plan of action is and then ask for her input. “Be sure you understand upfront what the guiding principles are for the work — not just the tactical elements. These principles are what you should be discussing with your boss,” says Chatman. For example, if you are working on an internal marketing campaign, be sure to talk about the message you want to send, not the font you should use. If the discussion becomes overly focused on detail, try to bring it back to the principles and approach you agreed on. Flattery can also work. Remind your boss that she is better off not getting involved in the minutiae because her time and effort are more valuable to the big picture.
Keep your boss in the loop Remember that micromanagers are often motivated by anxiety. “They are nervous about anyone else being able to do things as well or in the way they would do them,” says Chatman. You can often address that concern by keeping your manager informed of the project’s progress. You can schedule regular check-ins that help her feel part of the process. Or you can send unprompted emails that share important information. If she has made it clear that she wants to know about detail, don’t hesitate to get specific. While annoying now, it may save you the effort of redoing work later on. Most importantly, Manzoni says, if you have questions or need clarification, don’t wait until the last minute. That will only amplify her worry.
Give feedback, only if appropriate Telling a micromanager that you don’t appreciate his controlling behavior may only trigger more of it. But some well-meaning managers may be open to hearing your input. “Try to catch your boss in a moment of openness,” says Manzoni. He suggests using the time in a scheduled performance review. Then try something like, “Look, I like working with you but there is one thing that would make things better.” You can also involve a trusted third party, such as an HR manager, who can help you get your point across.
Be careful though, if you have a manager who enjoys showing he has the power and you don’t, this could backfire. If none of the above strategies work, ask yourself: Do I really want to work here? “If it’s pathological, you should consider transferring to another part of the company or finding another job,” says Manzoni.
Principles to Remember
Do:
Do everything you can to gain the micromanager’s trust
Know what motivates and worries your boss and try to assuage her concerns
Provide regular and detailed updates so your boss is apprised of your progress
Don’t:
Label anyone who exercises a degree of control as a micromanager
Defy the micromanager — that often triggers the behavior you are trying to avoid
Try to tell a boss that he is overly controlling unless you know he may be open to hearing it
Case Study #1: Keep the micromanager informed Harry Barkley* worked as a fundraiser for an Austin-based non-profit for four and half years when Sandra came on as his boss. He was considered the office expert when it came to fundraising and his coworkers regularly turned to him for advice. While he expected some changes when Sandra took over, he did not anticipate she’d be such a micromanager. “She wanted to see everything I produced and approve it before I moved on to the next task, right down to the e-mail responses I sent to donors who had questions about what types of in-kind donations we took,” he says. Sandra’s second-guessing even extended to issues like the amount of postage needed for mailings and how to load stationary into the office printer. “No matter what task I was performing and what my level of experience was with it, I always felt as if every aspect of my work was considered ‘suspect’ until it had been verified,” he says.
Harry attempted to keep Sandra’s behavior at bay by keeping her fully informed. He sent her regular updates on projects: once a day for high priority items and once a week for ongoing initiatives. He kept the notes brief, listing the task he had just completed and his proposed next step, which was always something he could complete before he sent the next update so she could see clear progress. This approach eased Sandra’s anxiety.
However, the constant updates added to Harry’s workload. “The pile-on meant that my work suffered and that things weren’t done as fast as Sandra was expecting them to be done,” he says. He was concerned that Sandra wouldn’t be open to hearing how her behavior was affecting his work so he talked with the HR manager, who agreed to host a meeting. As Harry suspected, Sandra was unreceptive. In fact, she defended her actions. Harry ultimately left the organization.
Case Study #2: Be attentive to her concerns In 2006, Marcy Berke* worked for an insurance company with offices throughout the US. Her boss’s boss was a woman named Barbara*, who was responsible for 10 agencies in her region. Barbara was passionate about efficiency. At one point, she asked all of the agents in her region to produce a time report, accounting for the number of minutes each of them spent on various tasks each day. “She was concerned with keeping her own production figures up, and burnishing her image with senior management,” Marcy says.
Marcy recognized what mattered most to Barbara. “If I were heading up a project, I would make certain to email Barbara, early and often, with any questions I might have about what her expectations were, and give her an outline of what my team was working on and the anticipated date of completion,” she says. If her team was having difficulty meeting the deadline for any reason, she would let Barbara know as soon as possible, providing both a reason and a revised end date. As much as possible, Marcy supplied the information Barbara needed without being asked first, so that Barbara could learn to trust her.
Since Marcy knew that Barbara was so preoccupied with time, she arrived at least 2 or 3 minutes early for meetings. When Marcy needed to set up a meeting with Barbara she would make the request by e-mail, clearly stating the reason for the meeting, listing the questions she would be asking and indicating how long the meeting would last.
Above all else, she tried to keep out of Barbara’s line of sight. “As I didn’t report to Barbara directly, I took pains to avoid becoming any more visible to her than I needed to be, and frequently used my direct supervisor to run interference,” she says. This approach worked well for Marcy. She was able to thrive at the company for four years, despite Barbara’s micromanagement, before she left to start her own firm.
Originally published at www.hbrascend.in.
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