#and every time i feel like a bit of anxiety going into it

[mingi-s-dimples]

Raw Need - Yunho

KINKTOBER DAY 29, REQ. BY 🤧

~"IM BACK AGAIN W ANOTHER REQUEST okay so its an omegaverse , reader is an omega and their dear partner is an alpha ( lets say yunho) and like this is readers first rut she couldnt control it at all because it was her first ever rut and she didn’t want to go tell yunho but because of the sweet smell of her pheromones yunho instantly knew what happened and it was clear that reader was feeling hotter and redder than usual when yunho asked her about at first she said no but after a little time she told him which make yunho go feral he asked “Would u mind if i helped” (They never did the bombaya before but they took showers and he was BIG.) but yunho didnt wait for an answer and he put his head in her neck slowly kissing her neck inhaling her sweet smell making him go crazy and get hard (a little skip time like they got undressed blah blah blah ) and when it was time for him to enter her like she told him to go slowly and that shes a little bit scared because she never took him before aka like a over all like gentle first time but after he stretched her out he was rough going deeper and deeper every time and maybe a little after care too 👉🏼👈🏼"

pairing: alpha!yunho × omega f!reader

genre: 18+, omegaverse, slight filth

summary: your first rut washed rough over you... and even if you didn't wanna do anything about it... your man made sure he'd fuck you senseless thru your rut.

wc: 5.1k

warnings: omegaverse, harsh dom!yunho, virgin/first rut for reader, marking, love at first then rough sex, mirror sex, hair pulling, pussy eating, making out, praise, some pet names, unprotected, completely consensual, for sure forgot something, might edit later.

Author's Note: I loved writing this one tbh... bestie I hope you like it and it's to your liking 😁 ily 🤍

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent the reality of the member in any way.

The quiet hum of the afternoon wrapped around the room like a cocoon, its tranquility disrupted only by the faint shuffle of papers and the occasional sound of distant footsteps. The room was nothing short of lavish, its opulence apparent in every detail. Velvet curtains hung heavy over the tall windows, filtering the sunlight into soft, golden streams that spilled across the polished hardwood floor. A grand bed sat in the center of the room, its plush, cream-colored duvet perfectly arranged, though you hadn’t dared to sit on it. Across from the bed, a gilded mirror stretched nearly to the ceiling, its ornate frame gleaming faintly in the dim light. Yunho had chosen its placement himself, a detail that always made your cheeks flush when you caught his lingering gaze in its reflection. Now, with the heat of your rut clouding your thoughts, the mirror felt more intrusive than ever.

The air was thick, though, laced with something so delicate and sweet that it bordered on intoxicating. You didn’t notice at first. Or maybe you did, but the swirling haze of heat pooling in your stomach had grown too overwhelming to let you focus on much else.

Your rut was coming on fast—too fast.

Leaning against the edge of the heavy wooden desk for balance, you drew in a shaky breath, your hands gripping the smooth surface like it was the only anchor in the storm raging inside of you. A feverish heat coursed through your veins, making your skin flush and your breaths uneven. You swallowed hard, your gaze darting toward the door as anxiety churned in your chest.

Yunho was just outside.

You hadn’t planned on telling him. How could you? The thought alone made your cheeks burn hotter than they already were. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust him—he was always so gentle with you, so caring, even when his alpha instincts occasionally surfaced in subtle ways. But this was different. This was your first rut. An experience so raw, so visceral, that it made you feel exposed in a way you couldn’t explain.

But Yunho would never let it go unnoticed.

The soft knock on the door startled you, your pulse jumping as you instinctively turned your head toward the sound.

“Y/N?” Yunho’s voice, low and warm, slipped through the crack in the door. It wasn’t just a question—it was a demand cloaked in care, his presence pressing against the threshold like a force you couldn’t escape.

You pressed your lips together, debating whether to respond. Surely he wouldn’t notice anything if you just—

The door creaked open before you could finish that thought, and Yunho stepped inside. His eyes found you instantly, and the moment they did, the room shifted.

The air grew heavier, electric, as his gaze darkened. His nostrils flared subtly, and you watched his jaw tense as he inhaled deeply. That sweet, unmistakable scent of your pheromones had reached him, and the effect was instant. His shoulders stiffened, the usual calm in his expression shattering as raw, unfiltered instinct bled through.

“Are you okay?” His voice was softer than you expected, but the tension behind it was unmistakable. He took a step closer, then another, his broad frame making the room feel impossibly small.

You nodded quickly, too quickly. “I’m fine,” you said, though the slight tremor in your voice betrayed you.

Yunho’s eyes narrowed, his sharp gaze sweeping over you. You could feel him dissecting every detail—the way your hands trembled against the desk, the sheen of sweat on your flushed skin, the way your breaths came faster than normal. He knew.

“It’s your first rut, isn’t it?” His voice was lower now, rougher, the barely contained growl in his tone sending a shiver down your spine.

You hesitated, caught between denial and the truth that your body had already given away. Finally, you nodded, your gaze dropping to avoid the intensity of his stare.

But that was all it took.

Something inside Yunho snapped. A low, guttural growl rumbled from his chest, and the tension that had been building between you broke like a dam. In the next instant, he was in front of you, moving faster than you could process. His hand cupped your face, firm and unyielding as he tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“You should’ve told me.” His voice was rough, feral, his breath hot against your skin. “You think I wouldn’t notice? You think I’d let you go through this alone?”

His other hand found your waist, his fingers pressing into your hip as though anchoring you to him. His body was impossibly close now, radiating a heat that only seemed to amplify the storm inside you.

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?” he rasped, his tone more growl than words.

Before you could answer—or even breathe—he leaned in, his lips brushing the curve of your neck. The kiss wasn’t soft; it was open-mouthed, searing, and possessive in a way that left you breathless. He wasn’t holding back anymore. The restraint he’d always shown around you was gone, replaced by something wild and uncontrollable.

His teeth grazed your skin, not enough to hurt but enough to make you tremble beneath him. “You’re mine,” he murmured against your neck, his voice low and rough, like a vow. “No one else gets to see you like this. No one else gets to touch you.”

Yunho pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes burning with an intensity that made your knees weak. “Let me take care of you,” he growled, his fingers tightening their hold on your waist. “Don’t you dare hide this from me again.”

Yunho’s eyes remained locked on yours, his pupils blown wide with a feral hunger that made your breath hitch. The intensity of his gaze was almost too much, but it was impossible to look away. He leaned in, his hand still firm on your waist, pulling you closer until the heat of his body overwhelmed your senses.

His lips captured yours in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was desperate, messy, and entirely consuming, his mouth moving against yours like he couldn’t get enough. When his teeth caught your bottom lip, biting just hard enough to make you gasp, a low growl rumbled deep in his chest. His nails dug into your waist, not enough to hurt but enough to remind you of the sheer strength he was holding back.

“Bed,” he rasped against your lips, his voice rough and commanding. Before you could even process the word, his hands were on you, guiding you backward. The desk’s edge scraped against your hip for a fleeting moment before his grip tightened, lifting you just enough to move you effortlessly.

You barely registered your back hitting the plush mattress until you felt the weight of his body hovering over you. Yunho’s movements weren’t rough, but they were purposeful, deliberate, as though his instincts had taken full control. His hands roamed your sides, firm and possessive as they found your waist again.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes burning with intensity. His thumb brushed against your cheek, a moment of tenderness that contrasted starkly with the raw hunger in his expression.

“Can I?” he asked, his voice softer now, though the strain in it was evident. His fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt, the tension in his body clear as he awaited your answer.

You swallowed hard, your lips parting slightly as you nodded, shy but certain.

That was all the permission Yunho needed.

His hands moved with urgency, tugging at your shirt as though it offended him. The fabric yielded easily under his grip, and though his movements bordered on aggressive, there was a reverence in the way his fingers ghosted over your skin as he worked. He paused only briefly, his gaze raking over you before his lips were back on your neck, trailing a path of open-mouthed kisses that left you breathless.

The heat pooling in your belly intensified as his hands slipped lower, brushing the waistband of your shorts. His touch was firm, unyielding, and it sent sparks through every nerve in your body.

A sudden thought flared in your mind, unbidden but vivid. You remembered the time you and Yunho had taken a shower together, an innocent moment that had left you more flustered than you cared to admit. You hadn’t been able to stop your gaze from wandering, and what you’d seen had stayed with you ever since. He was… packing, to put it mildly.

The memory alone was enough to make you press your thighs together, your body betraying the heat swirling inside you. Yunho noticed instantly. His eyes darkened further, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as though he could read your thoughts.

“You’re thinking about something,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing. His lips brushed against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “Something that’s turning you on even more, isn’t it?”

You tried to shake your head, but Yunho wasn’t having it. His hand slid down to your thigh, gently coaxing it apart as his nails grazed your skin. The possessiveness in his touch was unmistakable, and it only made the ache in your core worse.

“You’re mine,” he growled, his voice rough with want. “And I’m going to make sure you never forget it.”

Yunho’s lips didn’t relent, dragging hot, open-mouthed kisses along the curve of your neck, his teeth grazing just enough to make you gasp. His hands gripped your waist firmly, fingers digging into your skin as though anchoring himself. You could feel the possessiveness radiating from him, the way his touch claimed every inch of you.

“Mine,” he growled softly against your neck, the word vibrating against your skin before his teeth sank gently into the sensitive spot just below your jaw. The sensation sent a wave of dizziness washing over you, the heat pooling low in your belly becoming nearly unbearable.

Your hands moved instinctively, tangling in his dark hair as his lips continued their path downward. He seemed to revel in the way you clung to him, his low growl vibrating against your skin as his mouth traveled to your collarbone. He didn’t hesitate, leaving marks in his wake—small, dark bruises that bloomed on your skin like a map of his devotion.

“Yunho,” you whispered, your voice shaky and breathless as your body arched into his touch.

“Shh,” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. His lips pressed to the curve of your shoulder before trailing lower. “Let me take care of you.”

Every kiss, every bite, every graze of his teeth left you reeling. His lips found the swell of your chest, your nipples hard, pressing kisses that were as reverent as they were feral. When his mouth closed over them, you couldn’t help the soft sound that escaped you, your head falling back against the bed as your body melted beneath him.

“You’re so perfect,” he rasped, his voice thick with need. His hands moved to your sides, holding you steady as his lips continued their descent. He kissed along the curve of your ribs, his teeth scraping lightly against your skin just enough to leave a tingle in their wake.

By the time his mouth reached your belly, you were dizzy, your mind fogged with the overwhelming sensations flooding your body. His tongue traced the sensitive dip of your navel before his teeth grazed just above it, and your fingers tightened in his hair, tugging softly in response.

Yunho groaned at your touch, the sound sending another jolt of heat through you. His lips continued their path lower, pressing kisses to the soft skin of your hips before finding the tender flesh of your inner thigh.

He paused for a moment, his breath ghosting over your skin as he looked up at you. The sight of him—his dark, feral eyes gazing at you from between your thighs, his lips slightly swollen and marked with your taste—made your breath hitch.

“You look so beautiful like this,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, almost a growl. His hands slid to your thighs, gripping them firmly before pulling you closer with a single, powerful motion.

Before you could process the movement, his mouth was working its way on your folds, his lips pressing against you with a hunger that left no room for hesitation. The sudden intensity of it made you gasp, your head falling back as the heat in your belly surged, consuming you completely.

Yunho didn’t hold back. His mouth moved with precision and fervor, his tongue working against your sensitive flesh in ways that left you gasping. Each stroke was deliberate, calculated, his lips and tongue dragging over every nerve ending until your entire body trembled beneath him. His hands gripped your thighs, firm enough to keep you open for him, his nails pressing into your skin as though daring you to move.

The sounds leaving you were unrestrained, soft moans mixed with whimpers that only seemed to spur him on. He groaned against you, the vibration sending a shockwave through your body that made your legs shake.

“Yunho—” you managed to gasp, your fingers tangling deeper into his hair, pulling just enough to draw another low growl from him. The way his tongue teased and circled your clit, the sheer intensity of his focus, had you spiraling.

“That’s it,” he murmured against your skin, his voice rough and possessive. “Let me hear you.”

The coil in your belly tightened with every flick of his tongue, every gentle scrape of his teeth. Your legs trembled uncontrollably, the heat spreading through your entire body as your breaths grew shallow. You couldn’t think, couldn’t focus on anything except the relentless pleasure he was giving you.

When you finally reached your high, it hit you like a wave, crashing over you in a blinding surge of heat and sensation. Your body arched, your hands clutching at Yunho as soft cries spilled from your lips. He didn’t stop, his tongue coaxing you through every second of your orgasm until you were trembling from the overstimulation, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

“Good girl,” Yunho rasped, his voice laced with satisfaction as he finally pulled back, his lips glistening. He pressed a kiss to your inner thigh, a smirk playing at the edges of his mouth. “You’re so beautiful like this.”

He stood, towering over you as his hands moved to the hem of his shirt. His muscles flexed as he pulled it over his head, tossing it aside without care. The golden light from the room caught the lines of his chest and shoulders, every movement accentuating the raw strength in his form.

You couldn’t help but stare as he reached for the waistband of his pants, his fingers deftly undoing the button before sliding them down. He was stunning, every inch of him commanding your attention.

Yunho’s eyes darkened as he caught you looking, his smirk widening. “See something you like?” he teased, though the heat in his gaze left no room for denial.

He climbed onto the bed with an ease that belied his size, his hands finding your waist again as he pulled you up into his lap. The shift was sudden, and you let out a soft gasp as he positioned you effortlessly. His knees rested on the mattress, and he held you securely, your legs draped on either side of his hips.

You realized the mirror was directly in front of you now, its reflective surface catching every detail of the moment. Yunho’s grip shifted, one hand sliding beneath your knees as the other found your chin, tilting your face toward the mirror.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice a mix of awe and command. “So beautiful. So perfect.”

Your cheeks flushed as you caught your reflection. The sight of yourself, completely exposed in his lap, was almost too much. You tried to avert your gaze, but Yunho’s fingers on your chin held firm, gently pulling you back.

“Don’t look away,” he said, his tone soft but unyielding. “I want you to see how stunning you are. I want you to see what I see.”

His hands shifted again, his fingers gripping beneath your knees to spread you open further. The action made you gasp, the vulnerability of the position sending a fresh wave of heat through your body.

“You’re mine,” Yunho said, his voice low and reverent as he held you in place. “Every inch of you is mine.”

His lips brushed against your ear, his breath hot against your skin. “And I’m going to make sure you never forget it.”

Yunho's hands were firm but gentle as he guided you into position, pulling you into his lap. Your back pressed against his chest, and the warmth of his body surrounded you, his presence overwhelming in the best way. His hands moved to your legs, his fingertips sending little shivers through your skin as he positioned you just right. You could feel the heat of him beneath you, his cock brushing over your lower back with each movement. The proximity made your pulse quicken, the sensation of him so close that it nearly drove you wild.

You paused for a moment, your breath shallow, a mix of excitement and nerves flooding you. The overwhelming heat of the situation, the closeness, made your mind dizzy. You reached back, placing your hand on his chest to steady yourself, and your voice trembled as you spoke.

“Yunho,” you whispered, the sound almost a plea.

“Yes, darling?” he stopped everything, looking in the mirror at you.

You hesitated for a moment. “It’s... my first time… c-can you... can you be gentle with me, at first?”

Yunho froze for a moment, his hands stilling under your knees. He could feel the nervousness in your touch, your soft voice carrying the weight of your vulnerability. He leaned forward, pressing a tender kiss to your shoulder, his lips warm and reassuring.

“Of course, baby,” Yunho murmured, his voice steady and soothing. “I’ll take care of you, always.”

You felt his hands shift, adjusting his position beneath you, and he moved with such careful attention. His body was so close that you could feel the heat of him against your back, the pressure building with every slight movement, but he held back, moving only as slowly as you needed. His grip on your legs tightened just enough to give you comfort and security, and you melted into his touch.

With a deep breath, Yunho slowly guided you down, inch by inch. You felt the initial stretch, the unfamiliar sensation, but his slow movements allowed you to adjust, your body beginning to relax into him. The feeling of his chest against your back, of his heat surrounding you, made your body respond, even if it was just from the closeness.

“Good girl,” he whispered, his voice a soothing hum in your ear. “You’re doing so well. Just breathe, take your time.”

You shifted slightly, the soft friction sending tiny jolts of pleasure through you, and Yunho’s body tightened beneath you, a low growl escaping from his throat. He was fighting the urge to move faster, to take you with more force, but he restrained himself, focusing on you.

Slowly, the tension in your body began to ease, the heat in your core building as you adjusted to the feeling of him. You could feel him brushing against your back, his warmth spreading, and every soft touch, every movement, only made you crave more of him.

“You okay?” Yunho asked, his voice filled with concern, though there was a darker edge of hunger just beneath the surface. “Need me to go slower?”

You nodded, your voice barely a whisper as you breathed out, “ I’m okay.”

The slow, steady rhythm continued as Yunho guided you, his hands holding your legs outwards as he effortlessly pulled you up and down on his cock, slowly. You could feel the power in him, the control, but also the tenderness with which he held you, the care in every movement. He was taking his time with you, making sure you were completely comfortable, completely lost in the moment with him.

After a few moments, you felt your body adjusting, the heat growing, and the soft ache turning into something deeper, more intense. You shifted again, this time pressing your back more firmly against his chest, seeking a deeper connection. Yunho immediately noticed the change, his breathing picking up as he responded with a slight shift of his own.

“I think you’re ready for more,” he muttered softly, his voice a mixture of admiration and hunger. “Tell me if I’m right, baby. You want more?”

You nodded shyly, your breath quickening as you felt the weight of his gaze on you. “Yes… please.”

Yunho smiled softly, pressing another kiss to the back of your neck, and without waiting another moment, he began to move with you, slowly, steadily, a little deeper, a little more insistent. The heat inside you began to build with each motion, your body finally responding fully to his touch.

As the moment stretched on, Yunho could feel his control slipping. The slow, steady pace had done its job—it had allowed you to adjust, to relax—but the desire building inside him was too much to bear. He couldn’t stay patient forever, not when the way you moved against him, so delicate and needy, was driving him wild.

With a low, barely contained growl, Yunho suddenly shifted. His grip on your waist tightened, pulling you forward with a force that took you by surprise. You gasped as your chest pressed into the soft mattress, your body tilted just enough to feel the change. His hand moved swiftly to the back of your neck, his fingers threading into your hair as he held you in place, his chest pressed against your back.

“May I go rougher?” Yunho’s voice was hoarse, his breath ragged against the back of your neck. “I can’t take it anymore. I need more.”

The words, so full of need, sent a rush of heat through your body. You could feel the raw desire in his voice, and without hesitation, you nodded faintly, unable to speak as your breath caught in your throat.

The moment you gave him that silent permission, Yunho’s pace shifted, becoming more intense. His hands gripped you more firmly as he guided you forward, his movements faster, deeper. Every shift of his body sent sparks through your skin, the heat in your belly intensifying with every thrust. The pressure in your chest built as your body responded to him, the sensual rhythm becoming more urgent, more powerful.

His lips brushed against your shoulder, his breath warm on your skin. “You feel so good,” he murmured, his voice strained, but still soft with reverence. “So perfect for me.”

Each movement sent you spiraling, your body trembling with the force of the connection, with the overwhelming intensity of the moment. Yunho’s hold on you was firm, possessive, yet still filled with the tenderness he couldn’t hide. He was in control, but it was clear that every inch of him was completely consumed by you.

Yunho’s grip in your hair tightened slightly, pulling just enough to send a shiver down your spine. The sensation was electrifying, the sharp contrast between his strength and the reverence in his touch overwhelming. His breath was hot against your neck, his lips brushing over your skin as he whispered, his voice a low growl.

“Look at you, completely perfect,” he murmured, the words laced with possessiveness. His hand on your waist slid lower, his grip firm as he guided your body to move with his. Every shift, every deliberate motion, sent ripples of warmth through your skin, your senses heightened by the intensity of his presence.

“You feel that?” he asked, his voice rough but filled with awe. “That’s all you, baby. You’re driving me insane.”

Your legs trembled as Yunho moved with more purpose, the power behind his actions leaving you breathless. His body fit against yours so completely, every part of him enveloping you as if he was meant to. His hand slipped from your waist to rest on your belly, pulling you even closer against him as he leaned down to kiss the corner of your jaw, his lips moving slowly, savoring every inch of you.

“I want you to let go for me,” he coaxed, his voice softening slightly as his lips moved back to your ear. “Don’t hold back. I want all of you, every sound, every feeling.”

The tension building in your body was unbearable, the heat pooling low in your belly as Yunho continued, his movements growing rougher, more commanding. The way he whispered praise into your ear only added fuel to the fire, each word wrapping around you like a warm embrace.

“You’re incredible,” Yunho groaned, his tone heavy with admiration and something darker, more primal. “I could stay like this forever.”

When the orgasm overtook you again, your body arched instinctively, every nerve alight with sensation. Your fingers gripped the sheets beneath you, the overwhelming release leaving you breathless as soft cries escaped your lips. Yunho didn’t stop, his movements steady and sure as he helped you ride the high. His hold on you tightened, his growls low and guttural as he watched you come undone.

Even as the waves of sensation subsided, Yunho’s pace didn’t falter. His grip on your waist grew stronger, his other hand tangling in your hair once more as he pulled you back slightly to meet him.

“Stay with me,” he growled, his voice rough, his breaths shallow. “I’m not done with you yet.”

His movements became more intense, his need for you taking over as his strength pressed you firmly into place. The sound of his voice, the feeling of his body surrounding you, was too much. You could feel his restraint slipping, the raw hunger in his actions showing through as he drove himself toward his own high, spilling his load inches deep inside you, filling you up good.

When he finally stilled, his breath heavy and ragged against your ear, he buried his face into the crook of your neck. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you close as he pressed soft, lingering kisses to your skin.

“You’re amazing,” Yunho whispered, his voice softening, though the roughness from before lingered in the edges. “You’re mine. Always mine.”

With a tender strength, Yunho sat back, lifting you effortlessly into his embrace. Your body felt light against his, completely enveloped in his warmth as he guided you to lean against his chest. His hands moved gently now, tracing slow circles on your waist as he whispered soothing words into your ear.

Tilting your chin upward with his fingers, Yunho made you look into the mirror once more. Your reflection was a testament to the moment—your cheeks flushed, your lips swollen, your hair slightly mussed… body all sweaty and your cunt dripping with both of his and your juices on his thighs. His gaze, dark and full of pride, met yours in the glass as he kissed your temple softly.

“Look at yourself,” he murmured, his voice deep but tender. “Do you see what I see? How beautiful are you?”

Your face heated further, and you tried to look away, but his hand was quick to guide your chin back, holding you steady.

“Don’t shy away,” Yunho said, his voice firm but full of affection. “You’re breathtaking. Perfect. Mine.”

And as he held you there, safe in his embrace, the intensity of the moment melted into a warm stillness. You could feel his heart beating steadily against your back, his lips pressing one final kiss to the crown of your head as he whispered once more, “Always.”

As the intensity ebbed and warmth began to settle over you both, Yunho’s grip on your waist softened slightly, though his presence remained firm and grounding. His breath was still uneven as it fanned against your ear, and his hand shifted to cradle your face gently, his thumb brushing across your flushed cheek.

“You okay, baby?” he murmured, his voice low, rough around the edges but filled with tenderness. His eyes searched yours as his fingers trailed softly down your jawline, grounding you even as the sensations still lingered. “You were so good for me… I need to know you’re feeling alright.”

You nodded faintly, still catching your breath, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’m okay… I promise.”

Yunho’s lips twitched into a faint smile, the kind that was just for you, warm and full of pride. “Good,” he said softly, pressing a lingering kiss to the curve of your shoulder. “Because you were perfect. Better than perfect.”

With gentle yet deliberate strength, Yunho guided your body to turn and face him fully, his hands steady on your waist as he pulled you into his chest. His arms wrapped around you tightly, holding you so close it was as if he wanted to shield you from the world. The feeling of his warmth, his steady heartbeat beneath your cheek, made you feel completely secure.

“That was your first rut,” he murmured into your hair, his voice reverent but laced with something darker, the remnants of his earlier feral energy still flickering beneath the surface. “And you handled it like you were made for me.”

His fingers trailed down your spine, his grip firm but soothing, as though he couldn’t stop touching you, couldn’t let go even for a moment. “You have no idea how proud I am of you,” Yunho whispered, his lips brushing against your temple before finding your ear. “You’re mine. Every single part of you, and I’ll never let you forget it.”

The possessiveness in his tone sent another shiver through you, but the tenderness in his embrace made you relax completely. When Yunho pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his gaze was unwavering, dark with adoration and a lingering hunger, though his smile softened the edges.

“You’re incredible,” he said, pressing a final kiss to your forehead before tucking you back into his arms. “Always.”

And in his embrace, the weight of the moment dissolved into something sweeter, safer. Even as your body hummed with the remnants of everything you’d just shared, it was his presence, his unyielding care, that made you feel entirely, utterly his.

NETWORKS:

@blossomnet

@illusionnet

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@mingleshine @musiclovingfairy @crazylittlebisexual @sanhwalvr @artistic-rendition @hongjoongtime117 @cypher-03 @peachy-bell26 @atiny1 @my-atiny-kookie-rkive

[seoulbye]

GINGERBREAD HOUSE | NANAMI KENTO

syn. nanami never made himself to be a jack of all trades, but he thought building a gingerbread house would be this difficult.

── nanami kento & fem-bodied!reader, established relationship, slight food play, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, heavy doting & lots of kissing, sickeningly sweet & loving smut | 4.0k words ( minors, ageless & blank blogs: do not interact )

note. this was my submission for my cookbook collaboration. . . please take this as an apology.

He squinted heavily as he held the piping bag, constantly shifting and moving his hold on it as he tried to remain steady. Heart racing as he held his breath, he glanced your way. You were well-concentrated at the task at hand as well, eyebrows knitted together as your tongue poked out. Your piping bag held accurately as you’re already on the next side of the gingerbread house, the semi-circular shingles of the roof perfectly aligned with white frosting. How are you doing it so perfectly? 

“You’re thinking too hard about it,” you say. You didn’t need to look at Nanami's way to feel the tense air, how his hands trembled and practically shook the table, calling you to be extra careful in this friendly competition. 

You had bought two sets of gingerbread houses, elated when you saw them at the store while grocery shopping a couple of days ago. You didn’t think twice about it then, coming home to spark up the idea of seeing who can make better gingerbread houses. You knew that Nanami was always down for whatever, making sure to align time in his schedule to accommodate you, his lovely wife. 

Initially when he agreed, he didn’t think it could be so hard to decorate huge chunks of cookie, thinking it would be an easy challenge. And he would never admit it to anyone, but he did have a competitive side to him. You knew that, even though he always tried to deny it, so seeing him now, struggling over something and the anxiety of possibly losing protruding off of him, was quite comical. “Just… relax.”

“Easy for you to say,” Nanami grumbles, a vein running along his forehead as his face reddened from absentmindedly holding his breath. “Yours looks perfect.” 

There it is, you giggled to yourself, a devious smile on your face as you kept your eyes on your gingerbread house. You had to admit to yourself, it was coming out better than you initially thought it would. You don’t blame your husband for his envy— not one bit. However, you wouldn’t be a good wife if you gloated, but then again, no couple was perfect. “It is, isn’t it?”

Finally, you look over at your husband’s side of the table, taking in the horrendous sight that is his gingerbread house. You had to swallow back your laughter as your eyes slightly bulged out. He had gotten it to stand on the four walls, but it was lopsided. It was as though if you were to blow on it with one huff, it would fall down. The icing was in disarray, deeply contrasting from your tidy and curved strokes, as his went in every which direction they wanted to and most of it was smudged. It was a disastrous sight that Hansel and Gretel would never step foot into. 

“Yours, on the otherhand…” You trail off with a playful grimace, biting on your bottom lip as you dragged out a “hmmmmm…”

Nanami dropped his piping bag down at your teasing, face falling in a deadpan expression that wanted to crack when he saw you trying to hold in your laughter. The corners of his lips curved up as he crossed his arms. “I’m starting to think you wanted me to fail.”

You faltered, a grin plastered on your face as your nose scrunched up. “No, I didn’t.”

There was some truth in your admittance. You never started this to see Nanami be bad at it, only wanting to draw out that competitive nature he subdued so much. You enjoyed seeing the fire in his eyes when he felt like he was going to win, how he’d get so motivated to do something. However, he was also a cute sore loser and he’d silently sulk throughout the day because of his loss. But, most of all, you just wanted to spend some quality time with your husband as the holidays drew near and his work days became longer. Building these gingerbread houses together was a way to be together. 

“Mmm,” Nanami hums in faux pondering as he draws near you, caging you against the table. “No, I think you did.”

You set down your piping bag next on the table, feeling Nanami’s hands pull you into him as you giggle, shaking your head in protest. “No, you’re just bad at this.”

He cocks up an eyebrow, still questioning your true intentions. One hand slithers away from your waist, reaching further behind you to swipe away at your frosting. You watch his actions, gasping as he messes up your fine work. You push at his chest, watching how he sucks off his fingers with a hearty chuckle despite your “hey!” You pout as your husband tries to go for another swipe, but you slap away his hand just in time. “Just because your work is botched, doesn’t mean you can make mine the same.”

“Don’t worry,” Nanami hums. “I’ll fix it back for you.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes as he snickers. “Oh, you mean, you’ll just ruin it even more. No, thanks.”

“What are we even supposed to do with them afterwards? Eat them?” Nanami asks, not used to your western customs.

“No,” you snort. “Throw them away. Gingerbread houses taste disgusting.”

“What?” he asks, shocked. “So, you just bought these to let them get on my nerves and then throw them away?”

“I love it when you get all whiny,” you comment, before shaking your head. “But, no. I bought them because I thought it would be a fun thing to do. I didn’t expect you to fail so badly.”

“Y’know, you could’ve sugarcoated it a bit,” Nanami frowns, leaning into you, his breath dancing against your skin. “Make me feel like I didn’t do half as bad as I actually did.”

“I could’ve,” you frown, meeting him halfway, feeling the heat of each other’s skin. “‘M sorry.”

“You’re all forgiven,” Nanami chuckles. He loves the taste of you against his lips, how when he reaches up to caress your face, it melds so well into his hands, like you’re just the perfect fit. He loves how you just melt into him no matter what, putting in all the trust in him that he’ll keep you afloat. Whenever he kisses you, he feels whole— like both of you are sharing one breath. 

He pulls you closer into him, hands wrapped around your waist, tugging at the silk fabric of your robe, bunching it up together as he grips you tightly. Your nails dig through the cotton of his t-shirt, arms wrapped around his neck as you meet his love with your lips. You sigh in contempt, tasting the sweetness of the frosting on his tongue as he explores you. It pulls a moan from your tantalizing lips, making him want more in a matter of seconds the longer the two of you stay like this. 

And he feels like the sun in your arms, the heat of his skin wrapped around you like a comfortable weighted blanket. They hold you with security, even as they begin to travel down your body. The palm of his hands are smooth, fingers behind your lower thigh before hoisting your leg up to his waist. Nanami grounds himself into you, his growing erection becoming more prominent with the seconds passing. You’re so willing to reciprocate your name, hips bucking into him as your nails dig continue digging into his back, trying to pull him impossibly closer to you. 

Nanami hoists you up on the table, fingers digging into your lower back as he becomes needier for you as he leans further into you. You nearly lose your balance, hands hitting Nanami’s ruined art and tumbling down. Both of you retract and you can’t hold back the snort that leaves you while Nanami playfully rolls his eyes. “You just had to go and make it worse.”

“It’s your fault,” you giggle, bringing your hand to taste the frosting that’s got on you. Nanami watches carefully, watching how your tongue sticks out sucking off the sweet and white dessert off of your fingers. It has his cock twitching inside of his pants, wanting nothing more than to have you right on this table. Instead, however, he nips at your bottom lip, his brown eyes hooded. His thumb rubs soothing circles into your hips, pulling you closer to the edge. Chaste little kisses that traverse from the corner of your lips to your cheeks and down to the nape of your neck, each one filled with his love and need for you as he takes more time with each one. He adjusts the bonnet on your head, moving it out of his way as he hyper-fixates on this one particular spot. Your breathing becomes staggered, a moan being pulled from your lips as your grip on your husband tightens. “Is— Is this my pr-prize… for winning?”

He creates a dark blotched spot on your delicate skin, prideful of his marvelous work as he pulls away. He inhales you, his nose drawing a line to the crevice of your breasts, smelling the faint scent of the twisted peppermint body mist that you sprayed on in the early morning after stepping out of the shower. He finds everything about you addicting, finds every nook and cranny of your body to be a perfection that he’s been blessed to have. He’s not ignoring you on purpose, so caught up in everything that’s you that he’s momentarily forgotten what was even asked. “It could,” he hums. “If you want it to be.”

“I’d like it to,” you breathe. 

“Then, I better do a good job, huh?” Nanami chuckles, retreating back to your cleavage. His fingers play with the silky string of your robe before it falls with the rest of the garment, the sleeves of it slipping off of your shoulders, revealing your bare upper body to be marveled by your husband. He creates dark blotches in your skin, covering them in his love marks as he takes his precious time. Arousal pools from you, and with your lack of clothing and certainly your lack of underwear, it drips from your sweet cunt down to the fabric underneath as it remains untouched for the time being. 

You remain as salacious as you’ve been since the first time he’s tasted you, lips wrapping around your left areola, tonguing at your dark nub with such a dangerous need that you fear you might lactate. He always finds himself enamored with your body, where he could spend hours if you allowed him, fixated with a specific area. For an ample amount of time, his lips jump from one breast to another to create sweet hickeys and plastering his love onto your nipples— kissing, sucking and nipping at the delicate skin before you have to forcefully pry him off you.

“Kento…” you whine, finally managing to pull him away. Gently connecting foreheads, he pulls you in for yet another kiss, a sweet one that lasts for a mere couple of seconds before you’re retracting once more. “Kento…”

“What?” he grumbles, his voice coarse as he frowns. “Why won’t my wife let me love on her?”

“Because your wife has other places she wants to be loved on, too,” you pout, lolling your head to the side. 

“Have I ever told you that patience is a virtue?” Nanami hums, pulling at your bottom lip with his. You can’t help but nudge him.

“Yeah, and too much can hurt you,” you retort. “So, I don’t think it’s best to keep me waiting much longer.”

He snorts at your rebuttal, but giving into your needs nonetheless as he drops to his knees, spreading your legs open wider for him and shifting your robe out of the way to reveal your beautiful pussy. Oh, how it glistens with your love for him, your juices decorating your folds in something sweeter than the gumdrops and candy-coated chocolate pieces laying in bowls. His painfully hard cock sitting in his pants stirs in need for you as he drags your hips closer to the edge of the table. A whisper comes out, “You’re so wet for me.”

“Aren’t I always,” you say, gnawing on your bottom lip as you shimmy your hips closer to him in anticipation. 

In every moment that he spends with you, Nanami cherishes it, always thinking that he’s the luckiest guy to have a partner that is as amazing as you. He holds so much love for you that it’s suffocating. A deep fire that settles on his chest, where times like these are detrimental. You have to catch yourself, nearly screaming out in fright when Nanami pulls you down to give your cunt a taste. Your heart races from the quick scare as well as the feeling of the wet pink muscle that glides against your clit. The dark nub that pulsates in its pleasure as Nanami has a tight hold on you, leaving you secure in his arms. 

He’s so gentle with your pussy, the way he laps at it. Soft and tandem kisses placed with the utmost care before his tongue dives in between your folds, loving the way your juices pour out on his tongue. You’re insatiable, your pussy calling out his name as he plants feverish kisses on it. He salivates, further lubricating your cunt as he hums and moans against you. He ignores the ache in his knees, the pain of the marble tiles already biting him in the ass. 

Your moans are high-pitched and proving to be torture to your dear husband’s erection as precum leaks from his urethra, the tip of it rubbing against the cotton restraints of his boxer briefs. Your body struggles to decide what it wants, twisting and squirming but ultimately wanting more. Your arms grow weak as you try to find leverage, this time knocking down your own gingerbread house as you hear the pieces beginning to fall. Hand covered in frosting, you’re about to wipe it off on the table when you feel Nanami’s strong arms wrap around your waist, retracting his lips from you. 

“Don’t,” he says, taking your hand and putting it to his lips. The sultry sight only continues to make your pussy salivate, your slick dribbling down in a web pointed towards the ground as you watch Nanami clean you off, only leaving a wet trail of his spit behind. A ‘fuck’ falls from you as your eyes widen, clenching around nothing when you buck your hips out. The action sparks an idea in Nanami’s mind, his piping bag reaching lengths where he only has to stretch out and grab it without much effort. 

Your eyes follow him, where the moment it’s in his hands, you can already see the gears shifting inside of his mind. Nanami fixes you back on the table, a few drops of frosting hitting the ground before letting out a sigh. “Lay down for me?”

All it takes is a quick nod from you before Nanami’s helping you lay down, shifting the confectionate houses aside to have you well situated, guiding you to lay down without hitting your head or anything stabbing you in your back.

With the piping bag in hand, he raises it as the contents continue to drip and fall down, making a mess that’ll wait to be cleaned up. You can’t help but giggle, smiling as you peer up at your husband. “Y’sure you know what you’re doing with that?”

“For someone who wants her prize,” Nanami starts, “You’re sure working on losing it fast.”

“You wouldn’t dare stop.”

“I would.” He doesn’t however, using the piping bag to draw horrible art against your bare skin. It tickles, making your body flex and contract when the frosting touches you. You can’t control the small giggles and laughs that fall from your lips. And it’s so contagious as Nanami can’t help but join in with you. He’s painted a masterpiece in his eyes, drawing the shape of you as white traverses from your lips to the shape of your breasts down to your thighs. You look marvelous in his eyes, only a treat waiting to be devoured in its fullest glory. He feels like a god with you being his pretty little offering, prepped by his people. 

The wooden table creaks with his weight, leaning down to capture you. The frosting smudges, his tongue reaching to eat the delicacy. It’s a messy sight, one that an artist would be captivated to capture on their canvas, watching how Nanami inches downward. Your hands go to tangle themselves in his blonde locks, massaging his scalp as he creates more darkened artwork into your neck. 

The salt of your skin mixed with the sweet sugar is a combination perfection as he goes and goes further down your body. He grabs at your thighs, the frosting that covers them sticking to him but not something he’ll fret about now as he grounds himself against your wet pussy. And when he’s truly satisfied, believing that he’s baptized you in his spit, the white that contrasts the skin of your upper thighs still waits to be devoured. They’re clean in a matter of seconds as Nanami’s patience wears thin, your legs back open as the vulnerable are exposed to his taking. Some of the frosting has found its way to the curls of your pubes, which Nanami has no shame in wiping clean. He takes a moment to inhale you, his nose nuzzling into the warmth of you before kissing your clit.

“Gosh,” he groans. “You’re the sweetest thing I’ve ever had.”

You bring yourself to sit up as Nanami comes back to his feet. He strips himself of the t-shirt, the excess frosting making a mess of his face in the process. Before he can get himself out of his pants, you’re pulling him by the back of his neck. Your tongue sticks out, swiping at the grains of frosting on his cheek. “So are you.”

You suck the air out of him, always managing to have stars form in his eyes. These subtle things that you’re not aware of all the time, whether it’s something as mundane as cooking dinner or now, where you have somehow managed to one-up him at his own game. He’s completely bare in a matter of seconds, panting pooling at his feet before he’s kicking them off and his cock springs free. His tip is red in need as his length stands prominent against his abdomen. His tip kisses your clit before it pokes at your entrance.

“C’mon, Kento.” Your hands tremble in anticipation, where you have to hold your weight using your elbows. 

“You’re so impatient, doll,” he breathes. Despite the statement, the head of cock is quick to push through your entrance, making you mewl out from the stretch. No matter how many times he’s been sheathed inside of you, you’re as tight as the day he first had you. Your juices make it easy with each and every push of his length inside of you, not stopping until his pelvis meets yours. He has to take a moment to bask in your heart, how your sweet pussy envelopes his cock in a vice grip that’s addicting and never making him want to leave.

Your legs wrap around his waist, making him go deeper inside of you, finally pulling him away from your pussy enchantment. Retracting his hips until only the tip is in you, he thrusts back inside. His movement is languid, cock digging sweetly into your walls. Your head falls back as your hips roll in a deep need for him. Your back arches off the table as your mouth falls into the shape of an ‘O.’ Each thrust is a calculated one, careful as he wants you to memorize his love by the way he moves his cock. From shallow ones that have you begging for more to deep thrusts that hit that special spot inside, having you squeak out your moans. “Kento…”

He pulls you to sit up, your chest pressing against his as he hikes up one leg to the table, getting deeper and deeper within you. His forehead touches yours, nose meeting nose as your breaths dance together. His brown eyes stare into your glossy ones, a deep need for each other being shared as you hold eye contact. “Yes, my love? Am I upholding my promise to you?”

You nod, a stray tear dropping down onto the dark wood. “Y-Yes,” you cry. “You always make me feel so good. I—I love you so much.”

“Yeah?” He asks, to which you nod again. “I love you, too. So much more, in fact.”

You want to negate his statement, but he captures you for a kiss to silent you. He knows you all too well, swallowing away the thought from your mind completely as he fucks you on his cock.  Arms wrapped around him, you grind your hips down as you feel that familiar coil in your stomach. Butterflies dance around in there as you feel your cunt pulsate, squeezing Nanami’s length at your impending orgasm. You mewl against his lips, not having to say a word to signal what’s to come. He can feel himself approaching as well, your near orgasm always calling for him to join alongside you whenever he’s inside you. 

His thrusts grow rougher, bringing your hips down with force as he chases for euphoria. Your body tenses up, feeling that band snap as you cry out against his lips. Finally, Nanami pulls away as you cream around his cock. 

“Kento,” you cry, repeating his name like a mantra as you can’t find any other word besides it. 

“I got you, my love,” Nanami pants as you paint the base of his cock in a milky white as his cock twitches inside of you, spilling his seed in the depths of you. The smooth rhythm becomes sloppy as he rides out his high inside of you before pulling out and having you rest on the table. When your heartbeat slows and the hearts from your eyes dissipate being brought back to reality, you feel Nanami’s head against your chest. You can feel it, his copious amount of cum dripping out of you, smearing against Nanami’s skin. You moan at the loss as your hands travel to Nanami’s blonde hair. 

From your peripheral vision, you can see your work shoved to the far corner of the table as you remember what exactly sparked this chain of events. It reminds you of how in Nanami’s misery, you might’ve had an unfair trick right up your sleeves. Reverting your eyes, your finger combs through his hair as a sigh leaves you. It sparks Nanami's concern, picking up his head to glance at you. “Something on your mind so soon, or are you just basking in the present?”

“If I’m being honest,” you gnaw on your bottom lips, eyes averting Nanami’s at your soon confession. “I did practice with the piping bag while you were at work.”

You were expecting for him to be shocked, perhaps a bit mad at your “cheating,” but if anything, Nanami wasn’t either of those. Instead, with a gentle nod, he hums. “I expected much.”

“You did?” your eyes widen. “How?”

“Babe, you couldn’t icing a cake two weeks ago,” Nanami deadpans. “You’re expecting me to believe that you mastered the talent miraculously?” 

“Hey!” you playfully slap at his chest. “I could’ve just been lucky today!”

Nanami shakes his head, silently telling you, not a chance, before looking over at your gingerbread house. It’s tumbled into pieces for sure, but some of your work doesn’t go under-appreciated by the mess. 

“Now, that I’m looking closer,” he smirks. “It doesn’t look as good as I had originally thought it did.”

“Now you’re just trying to get under my skin.” You pull your arms from around him, crossing them around your chest. Nanami chuckles, nose nuzzling into the nape of your neck. 

“If I wanted to do that, I would just start fucking you again, darling.”

( 🛢 ) : @r0ckst4rjk @kasukuna @pixelcafe-network @satsattoru

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The Favor 12

It’s been 800 years and I’m sorry 😭 now that we reached this point inspo has come and gone so fast. But I got this part done and the next one on Patreon now! I would love to hear thoughts and suggestions, I’ve already implemented some of what you guys have asked for in my planned parts 🩷 enjoy! And happy holidays

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WC- 6.6k

Warnings- mentions of a Dom/sub dynamic, anxiety mention, misogyny, we hate Danny club tee shirts being passed around, tooth rotting fluff, mentions of relationship trauma

Danny hadn’t always been a bad boyfriend. 

At first he had been kind and sweet. With him being a tad bit more outgoing than Y/N, he had brought her into his friend group and integrated her as one of them. He had brought her flowers for their 6 month anniversary, they went on dates on the weekends twice a month, and it was nice. Solid, steady. 

Until he got a little too comfortable. 

Y/N could see it now that she had removed her heart from the equation. Danny was lazy, and it had shown more and more as the year mark hit, and then two years, and she had to remind him of Valentine’s Day, make the birthday plans, schedule the dates, or go along with the plans he’d made with his friends. He would get her gifts on those occasions, yes, but the most stereotypical things. It had lacked thought. Flowers and chocolates on Valentine’s Day were nice! She didn’t want to come across as ungrateful ever- but when he’d gotten her dark chocolate when he should have known she really disliked it, it made it a little less sweet- pun intended. 

If someone were to ask Y/N why she stayed so long,  she wouldn’t have one singular answer. Comfort? Familiarity? Routine? Perhaps lack of self esteem? She wasn’t sure. Being raised to think you had a specific way of doing things, of dating, engagement, then marriage, she hadn’t really been given many other examples. Growing up, her parents had been high school sweethearts, as had both of their parents. There was no breaking up, it was a one and done type of deal. 

She wasn’t sure if that was set in stone, though. It was an unspoken rule, something left unsaid like a thinly veiled threat in the night air. They spoke of the great love story of finding your one and only and it made her feel like she had to stick to that too. She’d never asked her mother about it, because she never really entertained the idea of having any other partner. 

It was easy with Danny in the way that she knew what to expect. She knew his habits, she knew his work, his schedule. She knew his friends, his plans for life, there were no surprises. Nothing that would jump back out and bite her, catch her off guard as he slowly leaned into being less attentive.&

Maybe that’s why even when she started having doubts she had stuck them to the back of her mind. 

There was no denying that Harry had been a very, very big part in all of it. The funny part of it was, she wasn’t sure that the sex bit was what truly got her to reconsider even if it had started it all. As incredible, euphoric as she felt- it was the way she felt afterwards. Before, even. When they sat in his bed and he stroked her cheek, feeding her cubes of cantaloupe or strawberries sliced in half, or when he’d picked up a carton of her yogurt and granola after mentioning what she usually had for breakfast at home. 

It was how gentle he handled her not only physically, but emotionally. He checked in, he cared, he asked her multiple times what she liked and what she didn’t. If it was okay to touch her certain ways, if he could kiss her. Just little things that seemed so minuscule in size if you looked at it from the outside but felt so big to her that it tore at her heart. 

He’d gotten her that damn water bottle, he’d gotten used to washing her hair when they shared showered, he used that tender tone of voice that had her bones feeling flexible as she melded into him each and every time. 

And another thing she had found to like about Harry, was the fact that he was just… dominant in most regards.

It wasn’t overly so. He wasn’t this complete alpha, macho man, fists banging on the chest sort of guy. He didn’t walk into the room and demand to be the biggest and baddest in the room. It was understated, quiet. If you looked at him you could just… see. Feel it. You could see he held it together well, that he liked control in the way he kept things organized and held eye contact regardless of who it was. He very rarely shied away from a situation. In fact, Y/N felt very special for being one of the only people she had seen make him blush or get flustered. 

It was second nature to him to just do. To pick up where she left off. So it did make her wonder what else she could do for him. How she could help him relieve stress. Yes, there was the sexual aspect that she was more than willing to hand over whenever he wanted (no exaggeration- any time, any place) but she wanted to be the person he allowed himself to loosen up with. 

She’d seen glimpses. Silliness and joking, that sort of tenderness that he didn’t seem to give to anyone else, but she wanted to make his life easier. Researching the dynamics between dominants and submissives, she had some questions- but the first thing she needed to do was cut off the dead weight- the only thing holding them back. 

—-

Meeting at the park was a good idea. She could tell by his face that he had a clue what was going to happen and as much as she tried not to, she did feel a tiny sliver of guilt. 

Y/N didn’t necessarily cheat, no. She’d had full permission, ecstatic permission, actually. He’d handed her over to Harry. Being realistic she knew he didn’t realize it would be an option that he wouldn’t get her back. Danny was headstrong in a way she found a lot of men were. He didn’t consider the possibility that she actually did know what she wanted and once she had a taste, she would want that for herself all the time.

“You’re leaving me for him.”

“Not necessarily.” She sighed, crossing her arms around her body. “It isn’t just about him. It’s about the fact that we aren’t compatible anymore, and we haven’t been in a long time.”

Danny scoffed, tilting his head towards the sky. “So, what? I’m nice? I let you go and see and play around to explore that shit and now you’ve gotten addicted to that sort of stuff? We can get you to therapy, because it isn’t healthy. But obviously it was a mistake to hand you off to him-“

“Yes. If you loved me, if you truly wanted me, Daniel- you’d never, ever want someone else to touch me.” She remembered how Harry had said he didn’t want to share her. Look, sure. But never touch. “You said the shit I’m into is weird, you shame me, then pawn me off to your friend which… it’s dangerous. The both of us are lucky Harry is genuinely an amazing guy-“ she shot him a look as he let out a noise but continued anyways. “Harry is amazing and kept me safe. He taught me the safe ways of doing things. And I liked it. I’m not going to lie to you, I really liked all of it and I know you aren’t into it.” For once, her face softened.

“And you don’t have to be. I don’t judge you for not wanting to do it. I never have. I was upset by your reactions and how you made me feel bad, but I would never ask you to do something you truly aren’t comfortable with. But if this is something I want, something I find myself needing to be fulfilled, I’m not going to try to change you or myself to try and salvage a relationship that was barely working anyways.”

“Barely working?” Danny looked genuinely confused. “The fuck are you talking about.” Again, her anger bubbled under the surface, but the exhaustion of the whole thing kept her from exploding. 

“Danny, you barely gave me attention. When you apologized the first time and we went out to the bar, you brushed me off the whole time. You treated me like an accessory. There was no passion to our relationship.” Y/N wasn’t sure how he didn’t see that. “We had the same conversations every day, barely had any excitement. I don’t think you loved me- I think I was convenient. And I don’t hold that against you either, but I think I was convenient to you.”

“That’s just how relationships are! They even out and get a little boring.” He defended, nostrils flaring as he was obviously offended with her observation. She had a feeling he would get that way. It was just another reason why they needed to end things. 

“To a degree. After years of marriage and things settle down, your partner is supposed to become your best friend. And we barely speak to each other if it isn’t about plans, or something you want to. If I feel like talking about something I can physically see you tune me out. This was happening far before you even handed me off to Harry.”

“And he’s going to give you that?” He sneered, looking at her like she was some sort of idiot. It had been very clear since the beginning that Danny really did put people into boxes, and Harry was in the sexual deviant one. He had no ability to see the depth in people and that had always been something that bothered her about him, but seeing it now towards someone she was falling for made her angry. 

“I don’t know.” She snapped. “But regardless if it is him or not, you need to stop that. You just… you learn something about someone and you completely disregard them as people. You knew he was into some different stuff and all of a sudden he’s a whore, some kind of sexual deviant that can’t commit. He’s had partners, long term. He’s caring. He’s kind. He listens to what I have to say. It isn’t just sex every time I go over to his place, you understand that right?” 

He didn’t, obviously, but the way his brows pulled together and he looked at her like he didn’t know what she was talking about. “Did you expect him to string me up and hit me with a paddle a few times and me to run back to you?” She was positive that was the thought process as it was as soon as she saw the face he made. “We bond. We make breakfast or go out for it, we watch shows, we take his dog on a walk- the dynamic of this whole thing goes far past just sex, Danny. It’s trust. I know you did minimal research into what this actually is, but I’m telling you that we weren’t just going at it like bunnies. I’m not hypnotized by his dick. He’s so nice to me, and he listens, and he….” Y/N could feel herself getting emotional, so she had to reign it in. He didn’t need this sort of response from her. 

“Listen. I’m sorry. I know we had plans, but they’re not for me anymore. I have no idea if Harry wants to actually date me or not. I have no clue where my life is going, but I just don’t see us being together anymore.”

——

It was a bit anticlimactic. Danny couldn’t really argue with her, (even if he did try a few times). Not when it was so abundantly clear her mind was made up. It was over. Regardless of what he thought about Harry or her sexual preferences or anything she liked, it was her opinion that mattered. She’d been coasting for so long that she had forgotten how it felt to actually be behind the wheel. As terrifying as it was to navigate- it felt good. 

“A mixed box, please.” Y/N politely asked the worker at the donut shop, knowing Harry was a bit of a fiend for a donut with his coffee. “An extra chocolate though, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course! Half or whole dozen?” 

“Whole, please.” 

She checked her phone to see a text waiting from him, her mood lightening immediately as her eyes traced over the screen. 

H: You alright, sweetheart? Please text me when you’re on your way here x. 

H: p.s. I miss you a little. 

Her heart felt like it grew too big for her chest as she took a shaky inhale, thumbing over the keyboard to reply to the man. It had been ages since she had gotten giddy over a man texting her, Harry being the first one since she’d left school honestly. It wasn’t that she wanted to constantly compare her past relationship with him, but it was hard not to when everything felt so much better.

Y/N: hiiii ❤️ I’m good. I made a stop but as soon as I’m done here I’ll be on my way. Maybe 20? 

Y/N: p.s. I miss you a little bit too 

Tucking her phone back in her pocket, she thanked the girl and checked out at the register, tapping her card before taking the box and walking back out to her car. 

She was a single woman, now. Sort of? That was sort of a mystery. She was Harry’s. The fact was clear both in her heart and the bruises sucked over the swell of her breast, also coincidentally over her heart. The question laid in his hands, if they were an actual item or not. He’d proclaimed she was his what seemed to be a million times but how far did that go? 

It wasn’t like she was dumb- she knew there were feelings in both ends. Men didn’t act like that unless they were actually wanting you. She knew she wasn’t completely naive for feeling somewhat confident that Harry would want her, but it was the question of in what way. As a submissive? As a girlfriend? That question would be asked tonight, but right now she really just needed a hug. 

There was no need to knock anymore as she scales the porch steps and approached the door, instead punching in the code to his security system and pushing the door open. The clicking of nails alerted her to Buttons before she even saw the pup, eagerly running towards her with a happy yip. 

“Hello, my darling.” She cooed, hanging her purse up on the hook and toed her shoes off. “These are not for you, M’sorry. We can get you a treat though. Where’s daddy, hm?” 

“Kitchen!” He called through the house, making her smile widen. She could smell coffee, the dark roast permeating the air as she padded towards the room. It was one of the best times of day to be in the room, sunlight pouring through the wide windows. Even better to frame him as he leaned against the island, waiting for the coffee to finish brewing. 

He was always beautiful, but seeing him in this light- literally and metaphorically- had her tummy swirling. His hair fluffy from the shower this morning and pushed off his head, the facial hair he had let grow because she said she liked it, the tee shirt tucked into linen pants, all of it was enticing. It felt more intense now that there was no real barrier holding her back from allowing her to think those sorts of things about him. 

“Excuse me, miss? What’s in that box?” His voice tilted as his smile grew, looking at the familiar pink box. 

“You know what’s in the box.” She hummed, placing it down next to him. “It’s where I stopped. I’m sorry to say I broke into them and ate a chocolate one on the drive here, but there’s 11 others in there for you to choose from.” 

“How will I ever forgive you.” His eyes rolled as he uncrossed his arms and pulled her into them, seeming to know what she needed before she could even utter a word about it. He knew what she went to do and while it was exciting, he knew she had been slightly anxious about the reaction. “You alright, darling? Seriously?” 

Y/N wasn’t sure if it was being in the safety of his arms and realizing that he was the only one she felt this safe with, if it was the slight exhaustion from not being able to sleep well, or the emotion of letting go of something that had once felt like her life, but she felt the wall hit her. Nodding into his chest, she stayed buried there as the tears bubbled over her lashline. 

“Oh, Angel. M’sorry. That’s a dumb question.”’he sighed, curling his hand around the back of her head and gently running his fingers through her hair. “I know. S’been a lot, the last few weeks. But you’re safe here, yeah? We don’t have to talk about it, or we can. It’s up to you.”

She knew he did want to. He wouldn’t press her because he was a good man and he was considerate of her feelings, but he wanted to know what happened and considering the entirety of this, she wanted to. It just… needed to be in a minute. Arms wrapped around his form as she took in unsteady breaths, trying to calm herself down. It was easier said than done when he felt like the lifeline now, but she didn’t want to cry over it. 

“We can.” She gave a watery laugh as she turned her cheek to rest on him, letting herself breathe properly instead of keeping herself shoved against his body. “I’m not upset because we broke up. I-I don’t really care about that, actually. I’m glad. He didn’t take it well but he also didn’t throw a tantrum. It just upset me because I was seeing him for one of the first times as who he was instead of m-making excuses and I felt a little dumb for staying for so long.” It was embarrassing.

Harry knew she wasn’t done so he didn’t interrupt, continuing the soothing strokes as she stayed leaning against him. “He puts people in boxes. Like he… he thought you were one dimensional and so was I. Thought that I didn’t actually know what I w-wanted, and that we were just fucking this whole time. Couldn’t believe that we were actually bonding and that you could possibly like me, or vice versa, outside a bedroom.” Her scoff made him chuckle just a bit, leaning his head down to kiss the top of hers, inhaling the scent of her shampoo. 

“And it really hit me how he couldn’t fathom that you have feelings that go past sexual deviancy or that I actually know what I want and I wasn’t just addicted to sex or something. Did you know he used to get me chocolates for Valentine’s Day but he’d get dark, and I hate dark chocolate.” She sniffled. “Or he’d make me plan stuff because I was ‘better’ at it. I just felt in charge of everything except plans with his friends, unless it had to do with getting a gift for a wedding or baby shower or birthday. Then I could handle it because… I don’t know. I was leading the whole thing and I wasn’t getting anything in return and I’m just now realizing how shitty I felt the whole time. I think I just coasted the whole time b-because my family did the whole high school or college sweetheart things and I felt like I needed to, too.”

It made a lot of sense to him, now, why she felt she needed this. The dynamic. Naturally submissive, he knew, but being forced to take the role that she didn’t want for the sake of a relationship she was trying to keep afloat merely because she felt a responsibility? His poor fucking girl. 

“I’m sorry.” He whispered. “I know it isn’t exactly the sort of thing you want to hear and it won’t make it better, but I’m sorry. It hurt you, it made you feel under appreciated and taken for granted. You didn’t deserve any of that.” 

It wouldn’t make a difference now but he wished he had met her first. Met her before Danny had gotten to her and been able to snatch her up, give her the sort of attention she properly needed, take care of her the way she had always been craving. For someone who didn’t naturally have that sort of instinct he had to imagine it was exhausting. Harry took pride in being the planner, the provider. He liked being in charge and knowing what was happening, making things easy and smooth. But for Y/N who already didn’t want to be doing it, he knew it had to have felt like she was trapped. 

“M’never going to make you do those things.” He murmured. “Not if you don’t want to. I don’t… it isn’t something that I’d ever want you to do if you didn’t want to. There is no right or wrong way to have a relationship, but the burden shouldn’t fall on only one person if they don’t want it to.” He smeared his lips in a ring of kisses around her hairline. “I know you don’t need me t’tell you that how you were treated wasn’t right, but I hope you know that you can tell me if you ever feel that way. If you… if you don’t want to do something, you don’t have to.” There was a pause. “When we’re not playing.” 

“I was gonna hold you to that.” She laughed against him, pulling her head back to look at him. “So, um.. I didn’t want to assume anything, but I’m gonna now and think that you want to.. that you like me enough to keep me around?”

Harry looked at her for a few moments before shutting his eyes, dropping his head to rest on hers. “If I hadn’t made it clear before, I think M’gonna make it even clearer now.” 

Y/N didn’t have a chance to breathe before he scooped her up to sit her in the counter, their lips fused together in a kiss she hadn’t fully felt before. Something he had held back, it lingered under it all as she easily melted into him.  It felt different, like a barrier had fallen off with the way he handled her. It was still delicate, still tender, but there was no hint of hesitancy in the way he led the kisses, smoothing his thumbs over her cheeks as he cupped her face in those massive hands she loved so much. Unhurried, unrestrained but no sense of urgency. 

Like he knew now he didn’t have to rush, that he had more time to prove to her that he meant every unspoken word he poured into this. 

The slight salt of her tears reminded him to pull back, to pace himself. Oddly enough, he had no urge to have sex right now. Everything was soft. Silky. Lovelaced and sweet, hinted with the motivation to give her the relationship that she deserved. It meant he’d have to ask her what she would want, but right now he just wanted to bask in the feeling of her in his palms and the warm sun and sugary donuts in the box and the strong coffee finishing its brew across the kitchen. 

“Hi.” He smiled lightly as he pulled back, eyes hooded as he watched hers peel open to meet his own. Her lips were bare of anything but chapstick he had faint taste of- strawberry, he was positive of it- and slightly puffy from the kiss that had gone on for a bit longer than they should have been able to breathe. 

“Hi.” Her voice was a peep as the shyness took over her face, but Harry didn’t let her move from it. As much as she wanted to burrow back into his chest, he kept her chin up. The energy was palpable, giddiness rocking his belly as he tugged her lip from her teeth. No biting of lips near him, not right now. Even if it was cute. 

There was a lot to speak about in regards to them as a pairing, but he wanted to soak in this warmth for a bit before getting down to the gritty bit of it. The girl had brought him his favorite sweets, and he wanted to enjoy them with her.

“Do you want some coffee?” 

“Tea, please.” 

—

Harry hadn’t been positive Y/N would go through with it. 

That wasn’t a fault or doubt of her person, not at all. But he knew that she really didn’t like hurting people. That much had been something he’d learned very early on in knowing her. She had been mindful of Danny’s feelings the whole time, trying not to flaunt any of it in his face and not giving details unless he asked- which he hardly did. 

They’d not really gotten any sort of response about what they’d done in front of him but Harry knew he wasn’t going to say anything about it because he would be too ashamed to admit it. He wasn’t shocked, though, when he got text messages during the day while Y/N slept soundly on his lap while watching a movie as Harry worked on his phone. She never could stay awake when the movie turned on and he played with her hair. One hand had been gently massaging her scalp while the other typed on his screen when the message popped up on his screen. 

D: I don’t know what the fuck you did to her but I hope you’re happy. I trusted you with her, man. And you fucking stole her. She was mine. That shit you’re into is disgusting and you’ve brainwashed her or something, it’s fucked up. 

Harry almost laughed at the message until he remembered what Y/N had been so upset about. The fact she hadn’t been seen as a person with her own emotions and feelings during the duration of the relationship had hit her. It may have started out good but it ended badly when she realized that he didn’t think she could choose what she liked. This was a prime example of it. 

HS: I get being upset, but I didn’t steal her. She isn’t property. She’s capable of making her own decisions and you texting me something like that proves you don’t trust her judgment yet again. I’ll do my best to make her happy, I care about her more than you can fathom. 

HS: I won’t be by any group gatherings, so don’t worry about that. Bye. 

Harry muted the conversation. 

It really wasn’t something he needed to talk to about with him anymore. He wasn’t sorry, he didn’t regret anything, he didn’t think what they did was fucked up. He could go back and forth about how Danny had been the one to hand over his girlfriend and push her right into Harry’s arms but at what cost? Why would he bother? 

She was curled in his lap, head on his thighs with soft breaths puffing against his shirt. Buttons laid at his dog bed near the fireplace and he felt that happiness bubble up in his stomach again. This was what he wanted. 

The dominant and submissive dynamic was something he loved and he enjoyed, absolutely. But the base level of his desires was wanting a real relationship with this before all the rest of it fell into place. Happiness at the most base level, trust, peace. Finding the delicate balance. 

His eyes traced over her features as his mind wandered a bit. Was a full dynamic what she wanted? Was she looking for commitment right off the bat? Or did she need a little breathing room? 

That didn’t seem as likely considering how she’d come right back home to him. 

The knowledge that she didn’t have anything holding her back was something that pleased him endlessly. He didn’t have to worry about stepping on toes. While they hadn’t expressed out loud that they wanted to be in a full and committed relationship, he knew she wouldn’t be here if she didn’t want to be. 

If he was honest with himself, he knew that an emotional affair had played a part in it. The both of them had been feeling things for each other for a bit, at least for him it had been a while. Y/N had poured her trust into him and he had taken that very seriously. He’d done his best to keep himself in check but now he really didn’t have to. 

It was astounding how fast emotions could form, how feelings could grow from a seedling planted in the pit of his belly to a full bloom that burst through his chest. She’d made a garden inside of him and he wanted her to see just how beautiful it could be, if she gave him the chance. A real one. 

Harry the dominant was one part of him but it wasn’t the whole part. He was a fully fleshed out human with faults. He was picky about keeping his house clean, he could be a bit pushy sometimes, he tended to isolate when he was upset about something. There was hints of insecurity and possessiveness in his personality, jealousy. God, he was a pathetically jealous person even if he tried to keep it under wraps. These were things she hadn’t exactly gotten to see, even if there were glimpses here and there. The underlying anxiety was there and prevalent that maybe she’d see those parts and not like him as much. 

The reminder that Y/N wasn’t that cruel circled back around and called him some, smiling as he felt her stir and scoot closer to him. Her nose nuzzled into his stomach, slow breathing evening out as she got comfortable again pressed up against him. The reminder that she also had faults that he hadn’t exactly seen yet was a comfort. He doubted that anything would truly scare him away, though. The obsession was already in place. 

“M’gonna do my best.” He whispered quietly, letting the back of his hand brush her warm cheek as she snoozed, unaware of his tender words under his breath. Unaware that it felt like he was holding the world in the palm of his hand now, and it was slightly terrifying as he tried to ensure he wouldn’t break it. “Gonna take care of you, sweet girl. Promise.” 

——

Their dinner was quiet. Harry had put on jazz music that was understated beneath their talking, the food was good, but there was no denying that they both knew a conversation laid ahead that would be a defining factor. 

As much as Harry tried to be calm about it, he was slightly nervous. Y/N looked slightly anxious and he tried to keep his shoulders relaxed but it was hard to when he was unsure what part she was anxious about. Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait long. 

“I’m over Danny.” She blurted out. The dam had splintered and she felt like she couldn’t keep it back anymore. “I think I was over him for a long time. if he was in love with me, he would have never sent me to fuck around with someone else. If I was truly in love with him, I wouldn’t have agreed. I wouldn’t have been so eager to come and see you. It has been bothering me for a bit thinking maybe I was a bad person for wanting to move on so quickly but I think I had accepted subconsciously that it had been over for so long that it made it easier for me to feel almost single when I was around you.” Taking a gulp of air, she continued. To his credit Harry didn’t interrupt, merely folded his hands on the table and looked intently at her. 

“The last thing I want you to consider yourself is a rebound, though. I’ve been torn because… while I know I like you a lot, and I do- I really do like you,” she paused to give him a nervous smile. “I wanted to make sure that you understand that I never saw you as someone to move on with when I wasn’t distracted by him in the first place. Every single time we were together I forgot about him. As cruel as it sounds… maybe the first time I had thought about how much better it was and how this was what I was missing, that I knew he’d never be capable of the things I wanted- but being with you was never about him for me.”

Y/N knew she was a flawed individual and it wasn’t a secret. It wasn’t morally right to most people and she understood that. But this had felt like a natural turn of events for her.

“You’ve been at the forefront of my mind since we first met up at the coffee shop. I always thought you were slightly intimidating and very handsome, very kind- but once I had the go ahead to think of you as more, it never stopped. It only grew.” Her eyes dropped to her mostly finished plate as she took a deeper breath. It felt like an avalanche of words were trying to come out, all the things she had held back coming out now that she felt safe enough to. 

“I thought at first it really was a favor to him, that you were doing this because you were a good friend. But I… I’d like to think I have good enough senses to know that you enjoyed it too. You paid me more attention than anyone else ever has. From the texting to check in and remembering things I said off hand, to getting me things that are so unique to me and our conversations… it blew me away.” Her fingers fiddled with the napkin before she braved his eyes again. 

“I just wanted to tell you that I… I really would like to try. With you. The um, the dominant stuff too, but… more? If that's something you’d want.” 

“It is.” There was no hesitation in his answer, knowing she was losing steam in her rant. “It’s what I’ve wanted for a while. I tried very hard to be respectful at first, you know…” he swallowed, trying to find the words. “I wanted to be respectful because of you. I didn’t want to get out of turn. And then… I started to care less about it when I saw how little he cared about your relationship himself. I didn’t take the favor on directly because he asked me.” This was a revelation, just a bit. “I took it on because I knew you, I knew the… I know how it is wanting to try something and feeling like you’ve got no options. I also know how dangerous it could be with the wrong hands on you. And I cared for you, back then more so as a friend but I cared and didn’t want you to have a bad experience. I wanted it to be safe and pleasure filled and selfishly, I was attracted to you as it was.” 

He may have fooled himself into thinking it was for Danny but he knew deep down why he had done it. 

“I think that you took me by surprise. How well we worked together from day one. It felt like… you were made for me. Y’know?”

“Yeah.” She peeped. “I felt the same.”

The small smile on his lips was a reward for her, the table being a good divider for now. If it wasn’t there he knew he would be distracted by wanting to touch her. “Good. I was taken back by it and I wanted more n’more, I got selfish and greedy for a bit. I broke a little, having you in the cafe bathroom. Doin’ that, it was selfish for me. For us. There wasn’t anything pre planned and I knew by how you reacted I wasn’t exactly alone in the want to do more but I didn’t want to make you feel guilty, so I kept it back for a bit.”

It had been so difficult not to beg for me. Ask her to come over during the week when he felt especially lonely. Even just to have her sit in his bed and leave her scent all over the sheets or hear her padding around while he worked. That was the domesticity that he wanted. “It’s been more than sex for me for a while. I know the dynamic is more than that too, but I found myself wanting you around more. Wanting to do more things with you than what we were supposed to do. When we went out the first time together, had me all sort of nervous in the good way and I realized I was getting myself into something that could be really good, or really bad.” His heart had been on the line the whole time. 

“Listen.” Leaning forward, he clasped his hands together again as he had her eyes. “I want t’be with you too. I want more. I want… the fun side where we play and go to the club, all of that. But I want more, too. The dinners and having you in my bed, without fucking. The softer things. I know that in the past you mentioned you had to control everything in your last relationship and I wanted to warn you that m’not like that- I like control in all areas of my life. It’s one of those things I’ve tried to work on a bit. Not necessarily of you in the traditional sense but… I like t’plan the dates. I like to feel needed, don’t mind bein’ the one to take care of you as long as you save that softness for me. Jus’ like you loving on me and being that sweet girl that you’ve shown me so far, and it’ll make me happy.” His hands itched to grab her. “Does that sound like something you can deal with.”

“It sounds like it’s perfect.” A shaky laugh left her as she felt slightly like she was dreaming. “I want to know more about how I can give back to you if you’re doing all the controlling but I… I really like that idea. I don’t mind you being the one to do all those things.” His version was exactly what she wanted. 

“Good.” The sigh of relief was enough to relax his shoulders. “Now c’mon over here. You’ve been far away from me for far too long.”

Y/N scrambled up and rounded the table, a shy smile lighting up her face as she sat in his lap and giggled in surprise as his mouth met hers, eager and languid as his large hand held her hip. She felt safe. Giddy. Warm. She could get used to this. 

[what-even-is-thiss]

I’m gonna loosely rant without direction for a minute.

I’ve been thinking a lot about being trans and religious in the last few days. I’m not exactly sure why. It’s just that this one thing keeps coming back to haunt me.

I’ve been happier and closer to God than ever before since I started transitioning. Never once have I felt that God had a problem with me being trans. My soul feels cleaner, happier, more open to the Holy Spirit even with all the other problems and anxieties in my life taken into account because even in my darkest moments now I’m still being my full self.

The thing that’s been bothering me is all these people out there who think I’m doing religion wrong because I’m not being who God made me to be or something when I feel like I’m being more of who God made me to be every day I get further away from the closet. God made my spirit and my mind just as much as he made my body so why is my body supposed to be the only factor in that?

What really bothers me is that people want me to give up what makes me happy, what strengthened my faith even, and go back to being sad and disconnected. And for what? Believing their interpretation of God is more valid than mine? For their comfort that’s for some reason more important than my comfort?

I would really like to work in a church or a religious college. I really would. But jobs with accepting congregations are few and far between. I feel like I have to spend my life moving between safe islands. I need to find my safe pockets and keep other Christians at a distance. And I hate that I have to do that. It weighs so heavily on me sometimes that they don’t believe my faith story.

I used to be the sort of person who would jump up and share my faith story at every opportunity with other Christians because I’m a convert that has stuck with my faith even through hard times. People love that shit. But now that my gender is a part of my story I feel like I either need to keep my mouth shut or lie. And I don’t want to lie so I keep my mouth shut.

I don’t really have a point to this I guess. I just wish I didn’t need to play a balancing act in order to be a queer Christian. Act less religious in queer spaces, act less queer in Christian spaces. There’s such small pockets of life I can fully be both in happily and loudly with no friction from other people.

Because all the friction between my faith and my queerness has always always come from other people. Never from my beliefs, never from my gender, never from my God. Other people. Other people keep trying to insert themselves in between me and God and go hey that’s not right you should feel bad about that. But like. I don’t. I can’t. I won’t and you can’t make me. The thing making me feel bad is that other people want me to feel bad. Other people want me to be miserable for their convenience. I hate that. That’s the worst bit for me about being queer and Christian. Is learning just how little other people value the happiness of strangers.

[cripplecharacters]

Hello! I've had a character concept floating around for a bit, but I wanted to make sure it doesn't fall into any unfortunate tropes that I'm unaware of!

Basically, the character concept is a seer with OCD who has compulsions related to his powers, the major one being that every time someone he knows makes a major decision, he feels compelled to check their future to see how it's been affected and if it's changed from the last time he checked (fate and foresight in this world are a little weird, his visions show the most likely future but aren't completely inevitable most of the time)

He also goes through a little ritual in order to call on a vision, not because it's necessary, but because it's one of his compulsions and he's convinced himself that he'll get stuck in the vision if he doesn't do it

Does this play into any stereotypes, or am I good to go?

I think that this is an awesome way to portray OCD while acknowledging the symptoms. As someone with OCD I can definitely see these traits relating to how OCD with a power like that could manifest.

I don't think this falls into any stereotypes - the stereotypes of OCD I can think of are OCD being used for humor, the symptoms just being neurosis or anxiety, the symptoms mainly relating to cleanliness, or even being a moral failing. This doesn't fall into any of that.

Excited to hear about where the story goes! :) (smiley face)

-Mod Bert

[gotta-winwin]

(🎞️) ... hit the road docu.<> if i walked at my own pace

masterlist | cyana's masterlist

word count: 1.8k tw: anxiety, mentions of bullying, panic attacks, sleeping pills italics are interviews cut between scenes + english a/n: we're finally starting to dive into cyana's backstory + the mystery of what happened in LA! if any of the above trigger warnings trigger you - scroll away, stay safe, and come back for the next one 💓

Cyana never really understood how some of the members could stand to watch their own fancams. Sure, she understood that it was a vital part of analyzing their performance, but every time she tried searching up her own fancams, she was greeted with a wave of self-embarrassment and cringe. 

“It won’t be like that forever,” Vernon tried comforting her, pausing his own fancam on his phone to look up at her. “You’ll end up getting used to watching yourself on camera.” 

Cyana shuddered. “I can’t imagine I’d ever get used to that.” Reaching over, she pressed play on his phone. “Other people’s fancams, however, that I like to watch.”

Vernon laughed, his ears turning pink as he adjusted his phone, letting Cyana watch over his shoulder. 

“Woww,” She marveled at the end, quietly applauding the performance. “So cool.”

Vernon smiled, swiping out of the video. “Not bad, huh.”

“Psh.” She smacked his shoulder lightly. “Not bad my ass. Give yourself some more credit, Hansol.” 

His lips quivered into a small smile, amused by how Cyana seamlessly switched to calling him by his Korean name when speaking English. Ironic, but for some reason it fit. 

“Anything in particular you’re looking for?” 

Vernon opened the door to the record store, motioning Cyana to head in first. He had promised the girl he’d accompany her to get a couple records, knowing how much she had been looking forward to browsing the New York streets. He was just as excited, shopping for anything music related was probably the only shopping he found himself enjoying. 

“The National.” Cyana said, already flipping through the boxes of records. “The 1975, The Cure, really anything I can get my hands on.” She pulled one out, gasping as she presented it to Vernon. “No way! Look at this.” 

Taking the record from her hands, he turned it over to read out the artist. “The Beatles?” He looked at her, a little confused. “I didn’t think you’d be a big Beatles fan.”

Cyana looked a little offended at his words. “I am. Huge fan. I’m getting that one.” 

Vernon held the record out of her reach, tucking it underneath his arm as he moved to another aisle. “I’ll get it for you, don’t worry about it.”

“Really?”

Vernon hummed, sifting through the boxes, looking for his own purchase. 

“Wow. Look at you,” Cyana tucked into his side, a hand around his lower arm as she browsed the options with him. “So dependable.” 

“How are you feeling?” The doctor prodded at Vernon’s neck and throat. “Any soreness?”

He shook his head, thankful that he wasn’t feeling at all ill, unlike the others. “I’m doing fine, doc.”

He watched as the doctor moved on to Woozi, repeating the same procedure with him and asking the same questions. Pulling out his phone, Vernon scrolled in a daze, allowing his mind to shut off for a little bit before their concert. He liked letting his mind blank out for a moment, like it was rebooting all his thoughts, worries and signals. 

It was Cyana’s quiet voice that pulled him out, most likely because the girl was speaking English.

“Do you think I can get some meds for sleeping?” 

Vernon looked up from his phone, eyebrows furrowed as he watched Cyana interact with the doctor, who was packing up his kit, ready to go. 

“Have you been having trouble sleeping?” The doctor asked her, pausing to give her a proper lookover. 

“A bit.” Cyana mumbled, glancing around, as if to check that no one was listening. Her eyes drifted over Vernon before returning to the floor next to her feet. “Or just in case.” 

Nodding, the doctor pulled out a bottle, shaking it slightly before handing it to her. “Most people in your line of work ask for the same thing, so I always keep it on hand. Take two before bed, three, if it’s not enough. But no more, alright?” 

Vernon watched Cyana slip the pill bottle into her hoodie pocket, thanking the doctor before retreating back into her chair. He frowned before shrugging, returning back to his phone and putting his brain back on airplane mode. It was whatever, right? 

“I could remember our LA show extremely clearly because I remember how Cyana’s face looked minutes before it.” Vernon told the camera, moistening his lips before continuing. “She looked like going on stage would destroy her completely.” 

Even under the dim lights beneath the stage, Vernon could tell there was something different about the way Cyana looked as they waited for the platform to rise with them on top of it. Usually she’d be smiling his way with a bright, dazzling grin, all pumped up for their performance and buzzing with energy. Now however, as Vernon stared at her, she seemed distant - almost muted - as if something had drained all the color from her cheeks. 

He reached over and gently shook her shoulder. “You good?” He mouthed, searching her eyes for an answer.

She shrugged his hand off her shoulder and mouthed back an okay, before turning away and readjusting her mic.

He didn’t believe her one bit.

“I mean,” He tried explaining himself to the camera. “I could relate to her, I guess. I keep things to myself a lot too. If I'm struggling, I won’t hide it, but it’s not like I’ll talk about it either.” He let out a small sigh. “I guess that’s why I didn’t say anything for a long time. I thought maybe silence was just normal for her like it was for me.”

Looking back now, on that concert day in LA, Vernon could remember seeing her hunched over, backstage, after a particularly intense run of Getting Closer. He remembered chalking up her sweat and body chills to mere overexhaustion, simply handing her a bottle of water before going back up for his turn with the Hiphop Unit. 

He also remembered hearing her quiet sobs and harsh breaths from across the room, as they all waited for the Performance Unit to finish with their set. Cyana was mostly covered by a worrying Joshua, fussing over her and whispering something Vernon was too far away to hear. 

He remembered how worried everybody was that day. How DK and Hoshi were unnaturally quiet on the way back to the hotel, their eyes sending fleeting glances over to Cyana, unsure what they could do to help. How Jeonghan and Joshua could only sit and hold her hand, Joshua’s eyes sending signals to Jeonghan that Vernon couldn’t understand. But most of all, he remembered how Dino came to sleep in his room that night, tears tracking down his face as he sobbed over Cyana asking to room alone. The boy couldn’t understand why she had kicked him out - and why they were all useless to stop it. 

“I was already worried about Coups hyung.” Vernon recalled. “We look out of sync when we’re missing someone, and I didn’t want Cyana to need to leave as well.” 

Vernon had no idea what was going on, as he tried meeting Joshua’s eyes to ask him what the hell was up with their youngest member. The older boy infuriatingly refused to meet his eyes, only leaving Cyana’s room to grab food or water for the girl. 

“Just wait.” He told Vernon when Vernon finally got a hold of him, just about to leave the washroom after brushing his teeth. “She’ll explain when she feels better.”

“Why can’t you just tell us now, though?” Vernon asked. “Everyone is going insane. Both DK and Dino went to bed crying last night and Mingyu looks like a kicked puppy waiting outside her door. Seungkwan even told me Wonwoo’s affected, something about how his face is stuck permanently in a worried expression. I’m going insane too, hyung.” He admitted the last part rather timidly.

Joshua looked torn. “I can’t.” He finally said after a painful pause. Moving behind Vernon, Joshua left, leaving him standing in front of the bathroom, looking incredibly stupid and pathetic. 

“I just wanted answers.” Vernon mumbled, not looking at the interviewer or the camera as he spoke. “And it felt like no one really had them. All of us had recounted that day, trying to piece together what could have affected Cyana so terribly - but none of us could think of anything at all.”

Cyana made sure to walk right next to Woozi as they exited the venue in between the barricades holding their fans back. It was rather strategic of her, she knew. Walking next to Woozi would ensure a constant presence - he wasn’t one to run up to the barricades and interact with fans, wasn’t one to draw attention to himself and therefore those around him. Cyana chose to be next to him for send-off for one reason: to not be seen. 

She couldn’t justify the fear to herself - let alone other people - so she kept the fear she knew was irrational and childish hidden. How was she to explain she was afraid of the crowd? Of their beloved fans?

Oh hey, Joshua. Yeah, I can’t do today’s concert because I’m afraid I’ll go up onstage and someone from the crowd will jump me. Or shoot me. Or throw a knife at me. Or throw acid up onstage. Or- anyways, yeah. So I can’t perform today. I feel like I might pass out onstage. Why? Oh- I kinda have people who want to kill me in LA. Yeah- from highschool. Bullies. I know, a long time ago. So it’s irrational. Right? And it’s not like they said they’d kill me. So it should be fine, right?

A swirl of thoughts wrapped around her as she continued to walk, putting one foot in front of the other, trying to block out the loud cheers and screams from the crowd. She had gone through the concert. Now all she needed to do was walk through the sea of fans, enter the company car and go home. 

You have to at least wait till you’re back in the hotel room before you break down. She chided herself. You must.

A scream, not much louder than the rest of the fans, caught her ear. She whipped her head around at the sound of her voice - yelled out through a sea of fans. She knew that voice. Her blood grew cold as her ears rang - muffling the world around her - and Cyana felt as if she was sixteen once again.

Her eyes drifted from face to face in the direction of the scream until it landed on a girl in the front row, holding a bright pink banner with Vernon’s name on it. 

“Cyana!” The girl yelled out again, her eyes twinkling in a way that made Cyana’s skin feel ice cold. 

And she watched, horrified, as the familiar girl mouthed an all too familiar five words at her. I’m going to get you. 

[taojjang]

𐙚 riize reactions: i want to marry you .ᐟ

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ advent calendar, day twenty-two! pairing: fiance!riize x reader, genre: fluff! warnings: pure love <3

synopsis: there's no better time to confess your never-ending love for someone than the holidays!

note: we're on the final four! ty guys sm for enjoying the advent calendar series i appreciate it so so so much :( i hope you guys are looking forward to the holidays coming up!! this one is kinda longgg i was feeling a bit too romantic so i hope you have the time and patience for this

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shotaro . . .

since the beginning of november, shotaro had planned a romantic getaway for the holidays. he booked the resort the second you agreed to his idea. from then until the day he drove you to the resort, he wouldn't stop talking about how excited he was. on christmas night, you finally realized why he was so excited.

taro knew you wanted to try ice skating. every time you'd open instagram, you'd watch reels about cute winter date ideas, and somehow ice skating was always a suggestion. you've been bugging taro to take you ice skating. the two of you got ready together in your fancy hotel room, taro letting you pick out your matching outfits. after you got all dolled up for the date, you were on your way to the skii resort.

taro held your hand as you entered the skii lift, reassuring you everything would be fun. but you were terrified. the lift seemed to be going way faster than you anticipated, causing your anxiety to palpitate in your chest. but once you entered the skii lift, your every thought was clouded by the breathtaking view ahead of you. but within seconds of reaching the mountain peak, you felt a tap on your shoulder. as you turned to face your boyfriend, your gaze was stolen by a glistening ring in taro's hand. your heart grew lighter as you looked down into taro's doting eyes.

"you've made every day of my life feel like a dream. would you let me live in your fairytale for the rest of our lives?"

the two of you held hands and explored the snowy mountain together, not being able to stop giggling as the idea of being with each other for the rest of your lives sank in.

eunseok . . .

eunseok is truly the most nurturing boyfriend you could ask for. no matter how busy or tired he is, he'd drop anything and come running to you the second you call his name. but with such a caring boyfriend comes so much nagging. eunseok is always complaining about how you spend too much money ordering food when he could just cook for you, or how you need to prioritize paying bills before buying new clothes. so of course it shocked you when he suddenly told you he was taking you to a tropical resort for christmas.

but of course, you couldn't complain. you were already envisioning so many cute things to do with eunseok on the vacation. you were a bit too excited, packing your things the same night although you had two more weeks until your flight. but it was all worth it. the resort he booked was absolutely stunning. you had your own little house on the beach and you bedroom had a window view of the deep turquoise waves.

the next few days, eunseok would take you on fancy tours of the island and luxurious dinner dates every night. you felt a bit emotional when things were coming to an end. the amount of beautiful memories you made with eunseok this week was all starting to overwhelm you. you felt like your love for him was at its capacity. seeing how sentimental you were, eunseok decided to lift your spirits by taking you on the final activity he had booked: a romantic ride on a yacht. it was absolutely lovely sitting beside eunseok with a glass of champagne in your hand. the wind breezed through your hair, refreshing every lingering thought in your mind. as you soaked in the tropical sun, eunseok called from behind you. "i think you'll like this view more." your heart stilled in your chest as you turned to eunseok, who was on one knee with the most stunning diamond ring you've ever seen

"you're the only person i'd wish to share the rest of my memories with. darling, will you marry me?"

sungchan . . .

every date with sungchan is typically organized by you. sungchan is quite clumsy and unorganized, so whenever he plans something it usually goes wrong. though you don't mind it and enjoy the thrill of how unpredictable his dates are, he's too insecure to plan dates. after all, sungchan wants the best for you.

but he knew you couldn't plan his proposal. he wanted it to be a complete surprise, which he succeeded in. you were shocked by how beautiful the house looked when you got home from spending time with your family for christmas. there was a romantic trail of rose petals leading you from the entrance to the dinner table, which was prettily decorated with fancy candles and flowers. though sungchan was such a klutz, you were proud of him for how luxurious he made the house.

everything was going as planned: he cooked up his best dish and it turned out delicious having you get up for seconds. you even complimented how well he planned out this date. to finish off the night, sungchan poured you a glass of pink champagne and served two slices of your favorite cake. the two of you were eating cake by the fireplace and sharing affectionate words with one another until suddenly, sungchan winced in pain and he covered his mouth with his hand. concerned and panicked, you put down your plate and leaned closer asking him what was wrong. you were surprised to see sungchan pull out a small object from his mouth. it was a diamond ring. you could see the embarrassment rise to his face as he looked down at the ring. "well, that wasn't supposed to be there..." as you realized what had just happened, you bursted out into laughter and took sungchan into your arms. "oh my gosh, sungchan, you're the cutest!" sungchan whined and threw his head into his hands crying, "it was going so well!" you smiled and left a doting kiss on sungchan's lips. "it's alright baby, now's your chance." sungchan sat up and cleared his throat, taking your hands into his and looking into your eyes.

"i know that was so stupid of me, but i promise to take you on countless more dates even better than this one. would you be my wife?"

wonbin . . .

wonbin loves home dates. whenever wonbin is in the mood to take you on a date, the destination is almost always his living room. something about the intimacy of being alone in such a comfortable space makes him so much sweeter than usual. but the christmas spirit makes wonbin even sweeter.

the two of you have a holiday tradition of going on a date to the annual christmas light festival at the nearby park. after walking around and taking cute pictures of every display, you would both find a seat in front of the frozen lake and share one early christmas gift.

but this year, wonbin forgot all about your gift. you stood in front of him with a blue gift bag in your hands, staring at him in disbelief as he stood empty-handed. you were furious. you'd been keeping up this tradition for five years, how could he forget? wonbin had even been bragging endlessly about how amazing your gift is, yet he conveniently forgot to bring it with him. you sat down on the bench and crossed your arms, not daring to look at him. all you could do was sulk as he cooed apologies. but your tough demeanor was soon cracked when wonbin sang, "listen baby, i can make it up to you, hm? look at me." finally giving in and turning to face him, your heart dropped to your stomach. wonbin got on one knee ahead of you, pulling out a small black velvet case from his pocket.

"you're the best gift i could ever receive. i'd never trade you for anything else in the world. will you marry me?"

seunghan . . .

seunghan spoils you rotten all throughout the year. you're having a hard day? dinner date! you just got a promotion? shopping spree! you gave him a few extra kisses that morning? flowers at your doorstep! after all, you're his entire world. what better way to show you that than giving you everything you could possibly ask for?

christmas is your favorite time of the year. you love going on all of the winter dates seunghan plans and enjoying the christmas spirit with him. but it gets a bit stressful sometimes. every day, there's at least two more gifts under the christmas tree despite not asking for a single thing this year. since seunghan spends so much money on you, you told him not to fret about christmas gifts this year and to focus on his family and friends. but its obvious those words didn't stick with him. by the time christmas eve came, more than half of the gifts under the tree were for you. you went to bed that night excited to open all of the gifts he'd gotten for you.

but you woke up to a christmas tree with no gifts beneath it. the tree skirt was bare with no boxes in sight. instead, four bouquets of flowers were sitting where the gifts usually were. confused, you called for seunghan in hopes he could explain what happened. but he never answered. as you investigated further, you noticed a single gift sitting on the branches of the tree. your eyes welled with tears as it revealed a silver ring with a stunning blue diamond. you turned around to see seunghan standing at the doorway with all of your gifts and another bouquet.

"what do you say, angel? would you take my hand in marriage?"

sohee . . .

as much as sohee loves you, it's rare for him to express said love through physical touch. here and there, he'd hold your hand as you walk beside each other or he'd brush your hair behind your ear when you're resting against his shoulder. but typically, he struggles to openly express his affection.

so of course you suspected something was off when he awkwardly held your hand for days straight. since the day before christmas eve, sohee's been so much more cuddly than you're used to. after spending the holidays together for the nth time, he wouldn't leave your side. he was practically clinging onto you from the moment he woke up to the moment he fell asleep in your arms. though you loved every second of it, you began to worry.

to end off christmas day on a cozy note, you put on your coziest sweater and got comfortable in front of the fireplace. not even a few seconds later, sohee hesitantly sat beside you, linking his arm around yours and resting against your shoulder. you pulled the blanket over the two of you and looked down at the clingy boy beside you. resting your hand on his cheek and stroking his soft skin, you asked out of pure concern, "sohee baby, is something wrong? is there something from your christmas list that i missed?" sohee chuckled and shook his head, snuggling closer to you. "what? of course not. i just... have a lot on my mind." even the slightest pout on sohee's face caused you immense discomfort and pain. you couldn't stand hearing he was stressed. "tell me about it, what's upsetting you?" sohee took a few seconds to simply breathe and take in your presence. swallowing back all of his fear, he looked up at you and let everything fall from his lips. "i think... i think i wanna marry you." your heart stood completely still. not a single breath escaped your lips. it was as if your entire world had froze. your love for sohee began overflowing in the form of tears.

"i've never felt so much love for someone as long as i've lived. i want to marry you, y/n."

anton . . .

christmas is always so serious for anton. he does not play when it comes to the holiday festivities. from november 1st all the way through january 31st, your house is full of the prettiest christmas decorations and even gifts. anton buys tons and tons of gifts for you that could last even past christmas. all year round, he takes notes on what items you express a desire for and he brings home all of those gifts on christmas. he just wants nothing but the best for you.

you're far too precious to anton. everything you do makes him feel so overwhelmingly in love with you. no matter how cranky you are, anton will always spoil you with snacks and affection every night. so of course he goes above and beyond for christmas, seizing the opportunity to spoil you rotten.

but you didn't expect there to be this many presents under the tree. you shook your head in both disbelief and astonishment. after eating a fancy breakfast anton had prepared, he urged you to open all of your gifts. you were more than touched to see all of the things you've mentioned to him sitting under the tree. from new clothes to fancy jewelry, anton covered everything you wished for. just when you thought things couldn't get any better, you opened the final box. inside lied a white teddy bear and a pink book sitting beneath it. you wound emotional flipping through the pages and seeing all of the prettiest photos he's taken with you, from the lowest times to the happiest memories you could recall. lying in the center of the last page was a gift you've been waiting for since the moment you met anton. it was a promise ring. looking up at anton with love flowing down your cheeks, you couldn't help but cry out of pure happiness.

"the happiest moments of my life were spent with you, y/n, and i want nothing more than to make even more with you. may i be your husband?"

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⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ tag list! (ask or comment to be added!)

@endtostartbreathin @gacktsa @hanninova @ramyeonzprincess @taroddori

[possibilistfanfiction]

CaitVi prompt: hospital

[u are all so silly, i got four asks with 'hospital' so here's the first of probably a few more :) also on ao3. there's not any real angst as i've tried to stick to in this little au lol. some more jinx pov, cait being kind. just the little family they all deserve!]

///

immediately there’s, like, a lot of blood. you wrap a towel — greasy, but better than nothing — around your arm and take a deep breath so you can stop yourself from feeling like you want to pass out. after a few perilous seconds, the wave of nausea and lightheadedness passes.

not that things even get easier, though, because you remember quickly that ekko is out of town on some arborist soil sample something something trip, and vi had texted you ten minutes ago that she was going out on a call — she always does, so you know what’s happening and can work through your anxiety without spiraling into a panic attack — and vander is picking up some new stools for the bar two towns over. the voices start immediately, partially because you’re in pain and partially because you’re really starting to panic: your arm is going to be fine, probably, but the cut was deep and messy, a clumsy slip in the lab; you spent a lot of years trying your best not to take care of yourself, but you know that’s not what you should do now.

you’re a burden, you hear, flashes of ugly images following. you close your eyes tight, as tight as you can, and shake your head. you’re still not used to not having your braids, but vi fixed it as much as possible and told you that you look badass; you look like your big sister more now, and she’s the most badass person you know, so it’s fine. it’s okay, you tell yourself, even though you don’t deserve care runs through your mind, so loudly, in a voice that isn’t yours. you know what to do now, though: you breathe into the bottom of your spine, just like you practice with your therapist all the time. you sniffle and blink away some tears and say some affirmations to yourself, ones that vi and vander and ekko and even caitlyn tell you all the time, big and small compliments and reassurances all the same.

it’s hard, though: you’ll only annoy her, you think, the second you remember what vi had told you a few weeks ago — caitlyn wanted to make sure you know that you can text het whenever you need. caitlyn will be mad at you; she’ll break up with vi and then vi will be mad at you, or vi will choose caitlyn over you, and either way she won’t want to live with you anymore, and you’ll be back on the street, and you won’t be able to stay on your medications, not without vi’s help, and ekko won’t want to spend any time with you when you’re like that, and—

‘no,’ you say out loud, ‘that’s not true.’ you take a deep breath. ‘none of that is going to happen.’

it feels like a miracle, even still, every time you’re able to come back to reality without hours of spiraling, and especially when you’re able to do it on your own. you still feel like you’re itching just under your skin, like everything is a little off-kilter, too fast and too bright, but you’re able to take one more deep breath and then find your phone.

your hand shakes as you press on the contact info and then call, and you put it on speaker and place it down on your work table before you put pressure back onto the towel over your cut. after only one and a half rings, caitlyn’s very proper accent comes through with a friendly, ‘hello, jinx.’

‘hi,’ you say, try your best to not sound as stressed and near tears and a little bit crazy as you feel.

when you can’t bring yourself to say anything else, after a few seconds she asks, ‘can i help you with anything?’

‘you’re probably busy,’ you say. ‘you’re at work, and i really shouldn’t be bothering you.’

you can almost see her shaking her head as you hear a little tisk. ‘i’m between meetings,’ she assures, ‘but, even if i wasn’t, if i can do something, i’d like to.’

there’s flashes of intrusive voices and images and thoughts, but you count to five and then nod. ‘okay.’

‘great. what can i help you with, then?’

‘well, i was being safe, i swear, and i would’ve asked vi, but she’s out on a call, and ekko and vander aren’t in town, and —‘

‘— jinx,’ caitlyn says, gentle enough you would cry if you weren’t as tough. ‘i’m happy to help, especially if you’re hurt.’

‘it’s just a cut on my arm.’

‘okay.’ she sounds unfazed, not angry, just concerned. ‘do you think you need stitches?’ i’m not too far; i can come pick you up and bring you to the hospital.’

‘are you —‘

‘yes,’ she says. ‘i am sure. i actually have a meeting there this afternoon anyway.’

‘well, okay. i guess.’

she laughs. ‘keep pressure on the wound, and i’ll see you in fifteen minutes. i can come up if you need.’

‘no, that’s okay.’

‘i’ll text you when i’m here, then.’

‘yeah. okay. and, like, thanks, i guess.’

you hear the fondness in her voice when she says, ’of course.’

/

it’s been eight months and you’re still kind of blown away by how neat caitlyn is: her new car that’s always clean, no matter how dirty you get it on your climbing trips; she irons all of her work clothes, which you only know because vi teased her the pleats in her slacks a few weeks ago; her hair is always perfectly sleek, not a strand out of place. it would be kind of scary if you haven’t also spent the last eight months watching her trip over herself to impress your idiot sister, and wear vi’s hoodies, and make truly shitty coffee when she stays the night at your apartment.

still, you’re a little scared to get blood on the pristine leather seat, but caitlyn gets out of the car when you get out of your building after she texts you and looks at your arm. she frowns — less in concern than, like, compassion or something — before she pulls you into a side-hug, making sure to not jostle your bad arm, and then opens the passenger door and makes sure you get in safely.

she’s in a neat dark turtleneck and slacks, a white coat actually hanging up on the hook in the back, which is comforting; the voices are quiet because your own is so loud wanting to scoff and tease her. but she turns on music she knows you like, and she doesn’t bother with trying to get you to make small talk. caitlyn drives carefully, she always does, and you rest your head against the window, the pain finally catching up to you.

‘i let vi know,’ caitlyn tells you as she pulls into a spot with her own name on it in the parking garage at the hospital.

you thank her quietly, feeling relieved that you don’t have to, even though she’ll definitely make you explain later how, even with all the new safety equipment jayce had given you, this could happen. still, the voices calm more and more as you walk in. caitlyn shrugs on her white coat, and she tells you to sit in a chair in the ER waiting room while she checks how busy it is.

‘dr. kiramman,’ you hear a nurse happily greet her. you lean your head back and close your eyes — the pain finally hitting you fully as your adrenaline has worn off — and grumble, ‘so fancy,’ just for posterity.

soon enough, though, only a few minutes, she gently says your name. ‘we’ll get you settled in the back,’ she explains. ‘it’s a little busy, but there’s a bed, and we can get you some pain medicine while you wait. it’ll be much more comfortable.’

you nod and she helps you up and then wraps a gentle hand around your shoulder, guiding you comfortingly. a nurse comes in and takes your vitals, which are normal enough, and then bustles out to get pain meds and a suture kit.

‘i — i can’t have opioids,’ you tell caitlyn, quietly. vi is always the best at leaving the details of what you’ve gone through up to you to tell people, but you’re still surprised when caitlyn doesn’t know things.

she just nods, though, unfazed. ‘i put in an order for local anesthetic, which should be the most helpful. otherwise, we can have you take tylenol and then see how your pain is; there are stronger options we can explore if you end up needing it.’

you kind of want to cry, but you don’t because you’re big and tough and strong and crying is for babies, obviously. you look around at how nice everything is, how shiny and new, and you take a second to really see her. caitlyn sits calmly in the chair next to your bed, perfect posture and slightly tired eyes; you know how strong she is since you climb together often, and you also know how kind she is.

‘this is a way nicer hospital than the ones i’ve been in before.’

her smile is a little hesitant but pleased all the same. ‘i’ve been working on improving all of them in the region.’

‘even the psych wards?’

her smile grows a little, genuine, and just for you. ‘especially the psych wards.’

it’s impossible not to return it. ‘really?’

‘compassionate and comprehensive mental health care has always been a priority of mine,’ she says, completely serious. ‘it’s part of the reason i went into public health policy, rather than just practicing.’ you’ve tuned out whenever she and vi have talked about caitlyn’s multiple degrees, because usually you’re climbing or someone has just brought you food, both of which are much more interesting than, like, seven million years of fancy school or whatever, but maybe it’s less dull than you thought. ‘i’ve grown to care about it even more in the past year, though.’

it takes you a second, but then you understand. ‘oh. huh.’ it seems impossible, but she’s not joking. ‘because of me?’

‘yes,’ caitlyn says. ‘we don’t have to talk about anything that makes you uncomfortable, but i’ve noticed how hard you work, and i know how much vi helps coordinate your care.’

for a second, you want to argue, or yell, or storm out and crash a car or fall into a hole or something, because you are a burden and vi does do so much to help you stay as stable as you can.

‘i’m in awe of you both, really, for navigating it all, even now,’ caitlyn continues, though, and the storm of your bad thoughts fades. ‘however, it should have never required the effort it did to get your care and social supports at first, and it still should be easier to coordinate presently. and,’ she continues; you have to fight a smile because, sometimes, it is fun when she really gets going; caitlyn can be terrifying when she wants to be, ‘if you or anyone else needs inpatient care, you should get to be in fully fundedfacilities that promote healing, grounding, and stability — mentally, but also physically. we know scientifically that aesthetics play a role.’

‘well,’ you say, your voice a little thick, ‘can’t argue with that, can i?’

she laughs, and then the nurse comes back in with a man in a white coat trailing behind her; he has a greying beard but is otherwise tall and stately, with a gentle eyes and a smile that is exactly the same as caitlyn’s. she smiles and hugs him tight, which he returns happily; you don’t wonder where caitlyn got her easy affection from.

‘jinx,’ she says, ‘my dad will be able to give you stitches today. i do have a meeting in about five minutes, but if can push it back if you’d like me to stay.’

‘what’s the meeting for?’ you ask, mostly to be annoying, but also because you’re lowkey curious.

unfortunately, by now caitlyn is unfazed. ‘a plan for the improvement and expansion of our regional gender affirming healthcare program.’

you almost groan; you can’t believe you’re going to have to suffer through your sister — world’s number one Good Person™️, as far as you’re concerned — and caitlyn — another Good Person™️ — for the rest of your life, if things go the way they have been. it’s kind of a big thought, but you find it makes you happy. ‘well, can’t postpone that.’

she smiles. ‘vi texted and should be on her way soon to drive you home when you’re done. i already put in your prescriptions at the pharmacy, so you can just pick those up on your way out. i’ll stop by later with some dinner.’

‘you don’t have to —‘ you catch yourself and take a deep breath — ‘thank you, caitlyn.’

she hums, squeezes your shoulder, and then gives a little wave on her way out, perfectly pressed coat and all.

‘dr. kiramman, the original,’ you say as caitlyn’s dad pulls up a stool and sterile tray next to your bed.

‘tobias, please,’ he says, easy warmth to his voice. ‘caitlyn and vi have both told me so much about you.’

‘terrifying.’

he laughs as he readies a syringe. ‘this is just local numbing agent. you’ll feel a little pinch, but it shouldn’t hurt any significant degree.’

he waits for you to nod before he starts, and it stings but not bad.

‘and only good things,’ he assures you, finishing up. ‘mostly about your school, and how much they both enjoy climbing with you.’

‘oh.’

he nods, and then quickly and clearly explains the process for stitches. again, he waits for your consent before he starts.

‘you and mrs. kiramman like my sister?’

he expertly ties off a suture. ‘i loved vi right away. cassandra is, well —‘ he rolls his eyes, like you for sure know and are in on it, and, like, vi is still kind of scared shitless of caitlyn’s mom, so you can figure it out.

‘intense?’

he laughs. ‘i don’t think anyone caitlyn would’ve grown serious about would’ve impressed her at first, no matter what.’

maybe it’s because you’re in pain, or because the routine of your day has gone to shit, or because everyone is being nice to you and it’s kind of overwhelming, but you feel a little defensive. vi’s, like, the best person in the world though. she knows that, right?’

‘she does.’ tobias is serious and gentle. ‘she’s actually been pestering the girls to have you and your father over for dinner soon.’

‘really?’

‘i think they’re both just working up to having to endure hours of embarrassing childhood stories at their expense, to be honest.’

you perk up; tobias has to remind you to stay still through a fond chuckle. ‘i’ve got some really good ones.’

‘i’m sure you do.’

and the rest is easy: tobias asks thoughtful, genuine questions about your senior thesis project, about your work with jayce and viktor, even about ekko when you mention him. it’s, well, easy, and you know when you share all of this with your therapist they’re going to go on and on about how good this experience will be for your continued work of remapping your thought patterns, helping you through trauma responses the more good things happen, blah blah, even if they’re right and it has helped a lot. he places a bandage gently and explains what you should do the next few days; vi has had more stitches than you can even count, with her younger propensity to fight anyone and her current propensity to run into burning buildings, but you listen closely anyway.

vi comes rushing in, a little out of breath and flushed in a fire department crew neck sweater and her uniform pants and boots, a smudge of soot still on her cheek, one of caitlyn’s nice patagonia tote bags you’re pretty sure vi has stolen at this point slung over her shoulder. when she sees you, intact and fine, and then tobias, she deflates in relief as she skids to a stop.

‘all fixed up,’ tobias says, and gives her a hug that strikes you as familiar; your chest aches a little, but it’s a good ache.

you can tell vi is still resisting the urge to take your face in her hands and check over every inch of you, so you roll your eyes. ‘i’m fine, vi.’

it seems to appease her for now, and she listens so intently when tobias explains everything to her, and then gives her directions to the pharmacy. ‘and bring jinx and vander for dinner soon, please.’ it’s accompanied with an expression that is so caitlyn — generous but demanding; there’s nothing vi can do to argue — you have to laugh.

when tobias leaves, vi hugs you tightly. ‘i’m glad you’re okay.’

you really don’t want to suddenly start crying, so you shove her back after a few seconds. ‘no big deal, sis.’

she looks at you carefully, now that it’s just the two of you, to make sure you’re not putting on a brave face.

‘i will say, it’s pretty sweet to have an in with the head of public health and her dad.’

vi smiles. ‘now you know why i’ve paid attention when she talks about her job.’

‘it’s still boring to hear,’ you insist. you realize, belatedly, as vi gets out one of your comfortable jackets from the tote bag, that you’re just in an old ratty tank that you wear when you tinker around; you let her help you into the jacket, taking comfort in the gesture even if you don’t want to acknowledge it aloud. ‘it’s cool in practice, though, gotta give her that.’

vi hums happily and then pulls a beanie over your head.

you roll your eyes. ‘i can do that on my own. plus, i don’t even need that.’

‘it’s starting to snow outside.’

you humph, just because you can. sometimes it’s grounding to be stubborn.

‘plus, take it from me, your head will be cold now if you don’t wear a hat.’

she has a point, maybe,so, ‘where’s your hat, then?’

she produces another beanie from the tote, a very nice arcteryx one that you’re sure belonged to cait a few months ago.

you roll your eyes and shove off her help when you get up from the bed, and she rolls her eyes. still, she walks close to you as you head out, and she gets your prescriptions for you when you don’t feel like going to the counter and talking, and she drives home safely in the snow. you doze on and off on the couch under your favorite fleece blanket after you change into one of vi’s softest hoodies and shorts and the best fuzzy socks, and you wake up drearily — the disruption of your routine and the adrenaline wearing off catching up to you — when cait lets herself in after it’s gotten dark. she brushes snow from her coat and takes her boots off on the welcome mat and racks them neatly next to vi’s, and then kisses her hello.

‘is that pizza for me?’

she laughs at the way you’ve perked up, your head just peeking over the back of the couch. ‘you’re feeling hungry? that’s a great sign.’

you get up and wave both of them off when they try to help you get a plate; you take a slice straight from the box and go back to your little nest. vi brings you a plate anyway, and, after caitlyn changes into comfortable clothes — hers, left here consistently in a drawer or two in vi’s dresser — they cuddle up on the far end of the couch with their own slices.

‘since i faced a life-threatening medical emergency today,’ you say, ‘i get to pick the movie.’

they both groan in protest, but vi hands you the remote anyway. you take pity on them — and maybe a little bit of gratefulness — and pick something all three of you had wanted to watch anyway, which vi seems especially pleased by. she’d told you on the way home about her shift, how she’d basically worked through the night and then had another call this morning, both pretty intense burns. she has a beer and cait has a glass of wine, and, unsurprisingly, vi falls asleep on cait’s shoulder about halfway through the movie, after she’d put away the leftover pizza in the fridge and done her nightly routine of checking all the locks on the windows and doors, a habit that you don’t think she’ll ever break.

you smile at the two of them, and unfortunately caitlyn catches you out of the corner of her eye. you wrinkle your nose at her and she laughs softly.

‘hey,’ you say, ‘thanks for today.’

‘of course.’

‘and, like, for your work, i guess. or whatever.’

she pats your hand, then squeezes once as you get up.

you wrap yourself in a little blanket cape, hooded over the top of your head, so just your face sticks out. you debate telling her to be sure to be quiet if they have sex tonight, or to please not bother making coffee tomorrow morning, but you’ve learned that there are lots of ways to say that you care about — and even love — a person.

‘sleep well, caitlyn.’

she smiles. ‘goodnight, jinx.’

[live-laugh-legolas]

I was reading this post by @just-a-little-cellist and I was inspired to do something similar but with the fellowship

I’ve done a few more specific mental health hc’s but this is just their general relationship with mental health as opposed to how they handle others with something specific if that makes sense

Also I’m not trying to diagnose any characters; you shouldn’t make assumptions about others, these are just my hcs for some version of the characters, whether canon or not, we will never know

The Fellowship and mental health

Aragorn:

-He is very knowledgeable about different mental health disorders

-Very quick to pick up on it

-I don’t imagine him having any personal experience with any of it though

-I could imagine him having ADHD as a kid and although it doesn’t just go away he has learned to mask it incredibly well

-He has mixed thoughts on medication; he’s not against it but he personally won’t take anything

Legolas:

-I think elves are a split bunch

-Their knowledge of mental health is scattered

-Elves are not shy with feelings but I don’t imagine them having many problems when not in a time of grief

-And I think Legolas was especially sheltered from any mental health discussions

-Maybe the woodland elves are less open to the idea since I think Elrond knows everything about mental disorders

-A cultural difference I suppose

-He loves learning though so he will ask lots of questions

Gimli:

-Dwarves are not strangers to troubled mental health

-They are openly emotional and expressive

-But they don’t put names to it; the idea of disorders is not in their nature

-Like they will openly discuss having trouble but don’t tell them they have depression or something

Boromir:

-I could totally see him having anxiety that he’s learned to suppress because his father is a dickhead

-He knows about the more common disorders and is very supportive

-He doesn’t always understand and sometimes he accidentally comes across as dismissive

-I’ve mentioned before that I kinda picture him to be similar to Arthur from BBC’s Merlin (but when he learns to be a bit nicer lol)

-He’s trying his best; he needs a little patience to learn is all

Frodo:

-He reads a lot so I don’t think he’s any stranger

-I think PTSD from the events in LOTR is the first time personally experiencing neurodivergence though

-Bilbo’s definitely got a pinch of something but I couldn’t tell you what

-So he doesn’t really question anyone; he’s kinda like “well, if I meet someone quirkier than my uncle it will be a wondrous day”

Sam:

-I think he’s pretty naive to mental disorders

-Not because he doesn’t want to learn; but he just doesn’t know better

-He may be a bit judgmental at first

-Like I could imagine him making a comment like “what’s up with them?” kind of thing

-But he truly doesn’t mean to be offensive

-He doesn’t branch out much from the people and things he knows so anything new is strange

-But he will be so supportive and will never live down his own regret for saying something even slightly offensive

Merry:

-He knows every disorder, every sign and symptom, and everything to actually have the disorder

-Like this guy has read every version of the DSM

-He finds it fascinating how people’s brains work so differently

-He totally thinks he can diagnose people though; which isn’t great Merry

Pippin:

-Literally doesn’t care

-And I mean he doesn’t judge and it doesn’t change how he thinks of someone

-It’s just kinda like “yeah they do that sometimes; it’s part of their charm”

-Will stim with someone absentmindedly; he is just inherently a copy cat

Gandalf:

-Obviously he knows all the shit and doesn’t discriminate against anyone

-Violently protective if someone makes an inconsiderate, presumptuous, or offensive comment

-Gives kind advice if someone is struggling; but he won’t be overbearing or draw a lot of attention to it

-Ik for some people it is part of their identity and he respects that, but he isn’t going to make jokes or anything (like example: a majority of my friends, which isn’t a lot tbh, are autistic and I joke with them that clearly I have ✨a type✨)

———————————————————————

I personally have my own struggles and experience with my own mental health but I am not the most educated despite this. I know my own diagnoses pretty well but it’s only a small amount compared to the vast number of different disorders.

If anything in here is written in a way that is offensive please let me know; I try my best but it’s entirely possible I am blinded to certain things

Anyway love everyone and I hope you all are doing well :)

[luvleyshif4]

LOST IN TRANSLATION

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: it’s hard to talk to someone American when you don’t know English….so what happens when you meet an American boy who doesn’t know your language either…now you’re stuck with An unexpected meeting, unspoken words, and a connection that lingers…

Warnings: language barriers, reader is Italian, reader doesn’t know English, reader is a barista, tiny bit of awkwardness, based in Florence, possibly mispronunciation of the Italian language, a bit of anxiety (doesn’t have a lot of serious warnings)

Word count: 1.04k words

Authors note: hey guys!! just so you know, I don’t speak Italian at all so there is a possibility that I might have mispronounced the Italian I used in the story, but I really liked writing this one. I was watching a movie the other day and I kind of got the idea from that. hope y’all like it!!! (I want this to happen to me..)

The café in the middle of Florence was quieter than usual today, and the stillness only made the air feel heavier. You shifted behind the counter, the familiar hum of the coffee machine and the soft clink of cups the only sound filling the space. There was a certain unease growing in the pit of your stomach as you worked.

Today, you were alone, with your friend not coming in for their shift. It wasn’t the first time, but it always made you nervous. You were still new at this job, still figuring out the flow, and not being able to rely on someone else was making it a bit harder than usual.

You sighed quietly, trying to shake off the anxiety. It wasn’t like anyone was going to walk in and make things worse, right?

Then, the bell above the door jingled, and your eyes lifted instinctively.

A man walked in. His presence was undeniable—a tall, buzzed-haired figure with striking blue eyes that seemed to hold a spark of something you couldn’t place. He moved with confidence, his gaze sweeping the room, and when it landed on you, it felt like everything else in the café faded into the background. You weren’t sure why, but something about him made your heart skip a beat. You hadn’t felt that way before, and it was a bit unsettling. Still, you tried not to let it show as you greeted him.

“Ciao, benvenuto! Cosa posso offrirti oggi?”(Hello, welcome! What can I offer you today?)

He didn’t immediately respond, and after a brief pause, you noticed the slight furrow of his brow. He was looking at you, but you could see the confusion in his eyes. Slowly, he opened his mouth, and his voice was thick with an accent, “I’m sorry, I don’t speak Italian…. Do you speak English?”

Your stomach tightened. Of course, you had already guessed he didn’t speak Italian, but hearing it out loud only made the weight of your nerves feel heavier. You quickly nodded, offering a small smile. “Un po’ di inglese,”( a little English,) you said, your voice shaking just a little. “Not much…”

He looked at you for a moment longer, as though deciding whether to press on. Then, he smiled softly. “No problem,” he said in English, though it was clear that even his words came with some difficulty. “Uhhh… Uno cappuccino?”

You nodded quickly, feeling a small sense of relief that the order was something familiar. “Cappuccino,” you said, trying to keep things simple. The rest was up to you, though. You could make the coffee, but the conversation would be a bit more challenging.

As you began preparing the cappuccino, you could feel his gaze on you. It was like a weight on your skin, but not an uncomfortable one. It was as if he was taking in every small movement you made, and your cheeks flushed under the intensity of it. You tried to focus on the task at hand, but the way he looked at you made it hard to concentrate.

When you hold the cappuccino in front of him, your fingers brushed against his as he took it from your hand, you quickly pulled your hand away, feeling the heat rising in your cheeks. He seemed to notice and offered you a gentle shy smile.

You glanced up at him, trying to ignore the fluttering in your chest. He looked down at the drink, then back at you. “I—uh, I don’t speak Italian very well,” he said again, breaking the silence, “but You….you’re really beautiful…..” he said, his English slow and deliberate, the words lingering in the air.

You blinked, unsure of what he meant.

you didn’t fully understand his words so You tilted your head, unsure how to respond, your nerves coming back tenfold.

He noticed your confusion and chuckled lightly. There was a certain warmth to it, though. He pointed at the small flowerpot sitting on the counter beside you, then back at you, his gaze lingering on your face. “You,” he said, “like this. Beautiful.”

You followed his finger and then looked back at him, finally understanding what he meant. He had compared you to the bright, delicate flowers in the pot, and for some reason, that comparison made your heart race even more. You weren’t sure how to react, but a small shy smile tugged at your lips, and your face flushed redder than before.

“Grazie…”(thank you…) you said quietly, trying to keep your voice steady. The simple word felt like the only thing you could say in that moment.

He smiled, his expression softening, and there was something in his eyes and the way he too had a rosy tint to his cheeks that made your heart flutter all over again.

The moment stretched for a beat, before he cleared his throat and reached into his pocket. He handed you the money for the cappuccino, and you quickly took it, your fingers brushing his once more. He took a step back and nodded.

“I should go,” he said, though there was a hesitation in his voice. “Maybe… I’ll see you again….”

You nodded, a quiet smile still lingering on your lips. “Ciao,” you said softly.

“Ciao…” he says as he gave you one last smile, a lingering glance before turning and heading toward the door. The bell above the door jingled again as he stepped out, and you stood there for a moment, heart still racing.

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, still trying to make sense of the brief but undeniably impactful interaction. There was something about him, something you couldn’t put into words, that made your day feel like it had changed in an instant.

You glanced at the cappuccino machine for a moment, lost in thought, before you shook yourself out of it. Stop thinking, you told yourself. You’d barely spoken more than a few sentences to him.

But maybe, just maybe, you’d see him again…

Authors note: this is honestly so cute that I feel like writing another part to it, but let me know If yall like it and if I should write another part!!!

[cakerybakery]

Adam: Do you want to have wontons? I’m in the mood for wontons. And tempura shrimp.

Lucifer: huh? Oh. Yeah. That’s fine. Sounded good.

Adam: cool. I’ll put an order in at our usual place?

Lucifer: chicken fried rice and some sort of vegetable dish too, please.

Adam: sure. Almost done?

Lucifer: yeah. You got me a bit distracted with dinner plans. I’m close.

Adam: oh, sorry.

Lucifer groans as he tenses and spills himself inside of Adam. He pulls out and lays down beside Adam: my own fault. I teased you a bit too much and you came sooner than I meant to get you to cum.

Adam: I’m not complaining. And it gave me time to think about what I wanted for dinner.

Lucifer: yeah, but I don’t want you to be bored during sex.

Adam: who was bored? I got off, I feel good, I got to figure out what to make for dinner. Ordering out. Not every sex session is some hour long, mind melting, sex. Sometimes it’s quick, sometimes you try a new position and get a cramp.

Lucifer: sometimes you plan dinner as your ass gets railed?

Adam: exactly. And sometimes you don’t get off but you still have a good time. And feel satisfied anyway.

Lucifer: wait, I thought you got off?

Adam: I did. Just experience speaking.

Lucifer: fuck, you scared me for a second.

Adam pulled Lucifer in for kiss.

Adam: babe, even if I didn’t get off, I still like being fucked. Don’t worry so much.

Lucifer: you’ve met me, right? My full name is Lucifer Anxiety Morningstar.

Adam chuckled as he shoved Lucifer back and rolled his eyes: it’s good you met you. I don’t normally fuck strangers. But how could I resist all that anxiety?

Lucifer: you really can’t. I can anxiety the panties off a man at fifty feet.

Adam: hmm, well can you anxiety them on yourself? I placed our order and it’ll be ready in twenty minutes.

Lucifer: why do I have to go?

Adam: I have an ass full of cum and don’t fancy leaking all over the restaurant.

Lucifer: like that’s stopped you before. You just don’t want to put on pants.

Adam smirked: you’ve met me right? I’m Adam Pants Fucking Suck Morningstar and I like it when my husband goes to get the Chinese food so I don’t have to put on pants.

Lucifer: fine. I’ll go. But when I get back you should be bent over the coffee table naked. I want to eat dinner off your back with my dick in your ass.

Adam: I fucking love you.

[arthurhillmastermind]

Anyone but him | Arthur Hill

“Same Building, same friends, zero patience for each other. For now.”

Kirstie stood in front of her mirror, adjusting her hair for the third time. She felt a mix of excitement and anxiety about attending Chris’s dinner party. After moving into the flat below him, she’d only heard stories about his friends— ArthurTV, and Bach. Chris had promised they were fun, but that didn’t ease her nerves. What if they didn’t like her? What if she didn’t like them?

With a final deep breath, Kirstie grabbed her jacket and made her way upstairs. She knocked on Chris’s door, and it swung open almost immediately, revealing a beaming Chris.

“You made it! I was beginning to think I’d have to come and drag you here myself!” he teased, pulling her into a quick hug.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Kirstie replied, rolling her eyes but smiling as she stepped inside.

The flat was warm and inviting, the scent of something delicious wafting from the kitchen. The living room was filled with laughter and casual chatter, and Kirstie felt her heart race as she spotted three guys lounging on the couch.

Chris led her over, gesturing grandly. “This is Kirstie! Although I feel like I didn't need to say this.”

Bach looked up, a cheeky grin on his face. “Yeah you didn't.! Chris won’t stop talking about you. Welcome to the shit show.”

ArthurTV smirked, raising his drink. “If he’s been hyping you up, you must be something special. I’m Arthur.”

Bach, sitting cross-legged with a warm smile, nodded in greeting. “Pleasure to meet you, Kirstie. Don’t mind Chris and ArthurTV; they’re just jealous I’m the best-looking one here.”

Kirstie chuckled, feeling her tension ease slightly. “Oh really? I'm pretty sure that changed when I came in, but I’ll have to make that judgement for myself,” she quipped back, earning a round of laughter.

“You’re going to fit right in,” Chris declared, clapping his hands together. “Let’s eat before everything gets cold.”

As they gathered around the dining table, Kirstie found herself seated between ArthurTV and Bach. Chris had gone all out, with a spread that looked as good as it smelled.

“So, Kirstie,” ArthurTV started, leaning slightly toward her. “What games are you streaming these days?”

Kirstie took a sip of her drink, feeling more at ease. “I just started streaming GTA V. It’s been a wild ride so far. Lots of chaos and swearing and laughing. I Play with Ginge sometimes and I play Fifa every so often too, ill play anything my stream ask me too to be honest, I did a sims challenge during a 24-hour stream, they asked me to make Chris and harry and let them get married, so I did.”

Chris annoyed “yeah and thanks to that I keep getting fan fiction written about it”

Kirstie impressed with herself “yup and thanks to that I bought my new pc”

Bach leaned in, a mischievous glint in his eye. “ I rate that, Are you a total wild card, or do you play it safe?”

“Depends on my mood,” Kirstie replied with a smirk. “But I’d say I enjoy a bit of reckless abandon now and then. I like leaving a game like sims or   on while streaming when I take a stream break and grab a drink or answer a call.”

ArthurTV raised his glass again with a grin. “That’s what we like to hear! Welcome to the shit show. I can imagine that Ginge is an annoying twat sometimes, though.”

Kirstie laughed, raising her glass to clink with his. “Thank you! He’s one of my favourite people to stream with, though. I try to get him on a stream three or four times a month. We balance each other out, I think.”

Chris groaned, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, I know he’d like to ‘balance you out’ too.”

Kirstie shot him an unimpressed look. “Chris, actually shut the fuck up.”

The group burst into laughter, ArthurTV slapping Chris on the back as he tried to maintain his mock-wounded expression. Kirstie felt her nerves melting away, blending seamlessly into the banter.

As dinner was served, Kirstie found herself surrounded by playful jabs and hilarious stories. She exchanged quips with Bach and ArthurTV, who were both delighted to test her sense of humour. Chris chimed in with a few anecdotes about their friend group that had Kirstie nearly in tears from laughing.

At one point, Chris disappeared into the kitchen to check on dessert, leaving Kirstie and the guys to chat. She noticed Arthur’s name come up in conversation, and her heart raced a little.

“What’s Arthur Hill actually like?” Kirstie asked casually, trying to keep her tone light.

“He’s a bit of a mystery,”  ArthurTV replied, a knowing look in his eyes. “Talented musician, but he can be a pain sometimes.”

“Yeah, like a lovable pain,” Bach added, rolling his eyes. “He has his moments.”

“He’s got this knack for thinking he’s cooler than everyone else,” ArthurTV added with a laugh. “But deep down, he’s a softie.”

Kirstie felt a strange flutter at the mention of Arthur. Despite their less-than-friendly encounters, she found herself curious about him.

Just then, Chris returned with a tray of desserts, interrupting her thoughts. “Alright, who’s ready for some sweet treats?”

The laughter and chatter resumed, and Kirstie felt grateful for the warmth of the evening. Maybe fitting in wouldn’t be as difficult as she had feared.

--------------------------------

Part 1 - here!

[lanawinterscigarettes]

No Pickles (Blair Waldorf x gn reader)

Summary: Blair insists on sending your food back when you're given the wrong order

Warnings: the reader is implied to be a bit of a picky eater and have social anxiety/people pleasing tendencies but I think that's about it besides that

A/N: based off that one relationship meme of "they asked for no pickles" because that would totally be blair and her partner in my mind (that's also where the title comes from haha)

Blair loved taking you out places. Shopping, movies, restaurants, you name it. At this point she'd probably taken you to every upscale place on the Upper East Side at least once.

Dinner dates were possibly her favorite. She loved getting all dolled up for you in one of her favorite dresses, doing her hair and makeup before heading out for your reservation. Seeing you dressed fancier than usual wasn't a bad perk as well.

One thing she always knew to keep in mind, however, was making sure whatever place she took you had a menu she knew you'd enjoy. There were certain things you just couldn't stomach eating, and she completely understood that, having gone through her share of aversion when it came to certain food before in the past.

That's why it was so important to her for you to feel comfortable and safe with whatever you were eating, no matter how big or small. In fact, she often ordered for you just to be certain nothing was miscommunicated between you and the server.

It was a Friday night, which naturally meant the two of you were out at dinner together. You usually tried to go out with her at least once a week, just so you could spend some time with her and make sure she wouldn't have to worry about feeling neglected or anything like that.

You decided to order your own food for once, which is something you almost never did and something you were certain you wouldn't do again for a while after this. Everything seemed fine at first when the server brought the food out, but you soon realized they'd put the one thing on your dish that you'd asked for them not to add.

Most people wouldn't see it as that big of a deal and would probably tell you to just take it off, but Blair knew you well enough to know you still wouldn't eat it afterwards because you wouldn't feel comfortable with it. Still, you decided not to say anything, electing to remain quiet and simply eat around the portion of food that you didn't like.

Blair picked up on your sudden silence and hesitation to eat almost immediately, her brown eyes narrowing into a calculating gaze as she watched you. "What's wrong?" She demanded, her tone firm but not quite harsh in a way that was always reserved specifically for you.

"Nothing, it's fine," you responded quickly, far too quickly for what you just said to be true.

Reaching her arm out across the table, she set her hand on top of yours in order to get your attention. "Hey. I know you, and I know when you're upset. Now tell me what's wrong."

Letting out a quiet sigh, you set your fork down and explained. "It's nothing, just- I asked for them not to add something to my plate, and they did it anyway. But I can always eat around it, it's fine."

"Absolutely not. You asked for your food to be prepared a certain way, and I'm not letting them off the hook for it until your order's correct," she stated firmly before snapping her fingers at the nearest server, trying to get their attention. "Excuse me, I'd like to make a complaint," she said while keeping her hand resting on yours in a reassuring manner.

You listened quietly as she told the server what they'd gotten wrong, to which they very profusely apologized, taking the dish back from you before vowing to fix it. That wasn't much of a surprise, as nobody (especially those in the service industry) wanted to risk getting on Blair Waldorf's bad side.

"They'll be back with your food in a minute, sweetie, okay?" She gave you one of those rare genuine smiles of hers that wasn't either condescending or fake, her thumb rubbing the back of your hand as she continued to hold it. "Would you like to try some of mine while you wait?"

Contemplating her offer, you thought for a moment before nodding your head, albeit a little reluctantly. You didn't always like trying out new types of food, but you knew she wouldn't be offering to give you something that she thought you wouldn't enjoy.

Letting go of your hand, she picked up her fork and got a small bit of the food from her meal on it before leaning over the table and feeding it to you. It wasn't something you'd order for yourself, but you could appreciate the flavors and didn't necessarily regret trying it.

She let you have another bite or two before the server returned with your own plate of food, apologizing yet again for the mistake as they set it down in front of you. This time, the dreaded portion of the dish you always ate it without was nowhere to be seen, much to both you and Blair's delight.

Thanking the server, you began to happily dig in to the meal, your spirits successfully lifted and your mood notably brightened compared to earlier when your food first arrived. It tasted even better when you didn't have to worry about accidentally eating the wrong thing.

"Next time they end up getting your food wrong, I want you to tell me right away and I'll make sure they get it fixed, understood?" Blair said in an almost stern matter while watching you eat, looking pleased that you weren't upset anymore.

"Okay," you agreed without protest, eating a little bit more of your food before adding in a somewhat shy manner, "thank you for telling them about it for me so I wouldn't have to."

"Of course. That's my job as your girlfriend, to make sure you always get what you want," she replied as if it was nothing. "You'd do the same thing for me."

You couldn't argue with her there. You'd do anything to make Blair happy, even if it meant doing something as big as going to the ends of the earth. And she'd do the exact same for you, even if it meant doing something as small as sending your food back because they got your order wrong.

End notes: I thought it would be very in character for blair to do something like this and I'm pretty sure I actually talked with @sparklingbutterflies about it one time which is where the idea for this fic initially came from

Likes < reblogs | comments are greatly appreciated | requests are currently open

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[pttglo]

WIP! SERIREI FANFIC!!

-2:30 AM-

Serizawa can't go to sleep. He'd always had trouble sleeping, factors like anxiety and having insomnia don't help all that much. He twists and turns in his bed. Eventually turning onto his back and staring at his ceiling, eyes fluttering slowly. 

Fuck.

Serizawa lifted the covers off him and sat on the edge of his bed, he stretched out his arms out yawning. He slowly got up from his bed. He wore simple black sweats, he never wore a shirt while sleeping as he would overheat, no matter how cold it was. He made his way to his closet, picking out a shirt and zip up jacket. Serizawa decided he would go out on a stroll to clear his mind. The stuffy insides of his apartment suffocated him whenever he felt stressed. (or every-time he was inside his apartment really.) Serizawa walked to his front door sighing once again as he put his beat up pair of shoes on. They honestly weren't *too* bad, just a few scuffs that tugged and bit at the seams. Tying his shoes with the bunny ear method he learned from his kindergarten teacher who he never had forgot. He opened the front door feeling the cold air hit him. Winter was right around the corner. He took a deep breath as he closed the door behind him, fumbling with his keys to lock it. He stood as he stared down, the welcome mat staring back at him. He didn't *feel* welcome here. 

He hated this place.

From the dogs barking, to the tenants arguing about *something*. There was always something going on with this apartment. Haven Hill they called it. Fuck Haven Hill.

Ironic. It similar to the world heaven but definitely didn't feel like such.

Whatever, Serizawa didn't wanna think about his living situation right now. He closed his eyes as he held his keys in his hand. He opened his eyes and shoved his keys into his pocket. 

Serizawa shuffled over to the stairs, holding onto the railing as he stepped on each step, counting the steps. He reached the end of the stairs. 

24 steps like always.

He strolled over to his favorite cafe, counting the sidewalk cracks, trying not the step on them.

69 cracks. He stepped on 1. (Did you see what I did there?)

Anyways.

Serizawa opened the door, bells ringing alerting whoever was there that he entered.

He was known by the workers in that cafe, he was a silent raven who didn't talk all that much and kept his privacy to himself, ordering and leaving just as fast as he entered. This wasn't a problem, they didn't mind having him there. He was just a mystery. (Although a bit clumsy, sometimes tripping over things and dropping his food once it was served, profusely apologizing and giving a generous tip)

Serizawa sat down as he contemplated on what to buy. He'd been here so many times yet always wanted to try something new, even if he'd had already tried everything. He looked out the window, staring at the traffic lights flickering from red to green to yellow, a few cars passed as it was late out. He admired the scenery despite the very minuscule amount of people on the streets. No shops were open besides this one and a few connivence stores, he was so emerging in the simple but elegant scenery that he barely noticed a man with honey blonde hair opening the door. 

His eyes peeked at him, giving him a glare that looked mean, he has no intention of that but it was a habit. 

The bells rang as the man stepped foot into thw cafe. He wore a dark green zip-up with dark jeans and black shoes. His hair looked very messy, as if he had just woke up. He was a little *attractive*. 

What the fuck?

Attractive, Really Serizawa? He mentally slapped himself shaking his brain awake. 'I'm just tired.' he thought running his hands through his hair 

(We all know Serizawa.)

The other man in the store who had just entered (this is Reigen by the way.) stared at the tall dark raven who was siting at a table alone. He kinda resembled a bear, his eye bags that held underneath his eyes and his messy unkept hair. That's cute. (You gay bitch.)

Was he alone? Did he need someone to accompany him? The man thought. He looked around the store, the man who once stood at the front made his way to the back, grabbing some things to restock. 

The guy walked up to Serizawa, staring at him.

Why is he here? Serizawa thought. Oh god, I am NOT good with others. He kept his eyes onto the other, fidgeting with his thumbs under his table. 

Maybe the sweat and embarrassment was evident on Serizawa's face. He didn't know, but for some reason the slender men sat down across from him, smiling. 

Just a genuine smile.

Oh.

That's not bad right Serizawa? (It was bad.)

It made Serizawa burn up like no other. 

What is this? Get a hold of yourself Serizawa. You just meet the damn guy and you're acting a fool.

He tried convincing himself it was because of the interaction he's having. I mean he would act like this with anybody, no matter how hot they looked to him.. or how cute their honey gold hair looked..or how mu-

Stop. 

It's just a man. I am a straight guy. (He kept trying to convince himself, it worked for a while.)

Serizawa was never an expert at love. Or anything really. He didn't know how he stood on things such as this. Nonetheless it's stupid and he wants the pitter patter in his heart to vanish.

"-name?"

Is he talking to me?

Yes.

"M-my name?" Serizawa took a shot in the dark in guessing what the man was trying to say to him after battling his thoughts.

The man nodded.

*"Katsuya Serizawa!"* 

Did I mess that up? What if he hates me?! He kept his eyes onto his, he didn't know whether if he could tell if he was stressing or not.

-

He's so cute. He's so cute. He's. So. Cute.

Fuck he's cute.

The way his hair was cut short.

His eyes.

His voice.

Reigen, stop.

Reigen thought as he stared at the guy across from him who was clearly lost in thought.

Katsuya Serizawa. The way he said his name replayed in his head. Hm.

He would remember you forever, you oaf.

Wow, they just meet and Reigen is head over heels.

Well he wouldn't say that. (I would.)

He's so silly and just..cute and the way he tripped over his words just to say his name.

"My name is Reigen." taking a long pause before saying his first. "Arataka."

(Greatest psychic of the 21st century might I add.)

Reigen's voice was just like butter as it slipped from his mouth. Smooth and soft, as if casting a spell.

"Why are you up so late?"

"Ehh..you know I couldn't really sleep."

Serizawa kept his conversation with Reigen as if it was no big deal. It was a huge deal, trying to not stutter while talking to the sexy ma-

The average looking guy who Serizawa doesn't like.

"Why are you up?"

Wow Serizawa is asking him questions. That's a first.

"Nehh.. you know. I woke up around one or so. I was pretty hungry and this was the only place I knew that was open."

Reigen explained himself so clearly. It was a weird thing to be fascinated and in awe about but it was something Reigen could do that Serizawa could not. 

(Don't put yourself down so much Seri! We love youu!!)

Serizawa tried to think of conversation starters, Reigen was already steps ahead of him.

"So..what do you do for work?"

"I- uhmm.."

He fidgeted with his hands trying to think of a lie.

He was embarrassed of what he did for work.

Are you really trying to impress Reigen right now? Working an average job as a store clerk is not bad Serizawa.

"I own a business.." Serizawa scratched the back of his neck.

Oh? Actually? That's cool. He's so cool.

"Ahhh..realllyyy..? I always wanted to own one but you know I could never get into it. It's all so expensive."

Reigen was really good at talking fast, fast with his hands, not fumbling over any words unlike Serizawa.

Reigen's elbows were on the table as he spoke, blabbering own about some stupid dream he had as a kid.

(We don't give a fuck.)

(Who said that?)

Anyways.

Serizawa was so focused onto Reigen's hand movements and the way his brows furrowed as he spoke. Serizawa noticed he has a cute habit of slightly pouting his lips when he stopped talking.

Maybe he was staring too hard because Reigen took wind. 

"Ehh- something wrong?"

"No, n-not at all!"

"You're staring at me like you hate me."

"Was I? Sorry it's a habit."

(Serizawa you know damn well.)

What's with this guy? Does he wanna talk to me or not? I mean he could've just said that. Then again he doesn't seem like the type to do so. I guess I'll go.

"S-sorry Reigen. I was trying to focus on your story."

I guess I won't be leaving.

For the first time since they started talking the table was filled with emptiness and silence which was weird considering Reigen was always the life of the party, or cafe in this situation.

Reigen pulled out his phone. 

-3:27 AM-

I should be leaving now, Reigen thought. 

It was getting late, Reigen really wanted to stay but he didn't want Serizawa to think of him as annoying.

"Ahhh.. Serizawa. Sorry, I have to get going now." Reigen stood up putting his phone back in his pocket. His hands stayed in his pockets while he looked at Serizawa.

Oh shit. He's leaving already? Why?! Did I do something? 

'What the fuck did you say Serizawa?!'

He thought, always battling himself.

"I enjoyed your compan-"

"Let's go together!" Serizawa shot up from his chair giving Reigen his best smile.

Was that too much..?

Whatever it didn't matter. As long as Serizawa finds comfort within Reigen.

Wait. What?

-

| Serizawa you bastard, already? |

| Cut me a break! The man is cute and his voice is calming to me ! |

| Wow so you're willing- |

| Enough! Get back to me and Reigen's story. |

| Okay okay.. if you say so. |

~

"I can walk you home!" As Serizawa stood up Reigen looked up at him. He didn't realize he would be THIS tall. God damn that's a nice sight.

He felt comfort in his tall giant. His presence brought flutters to his stomach.

Hmph. I don't like Serizawa as anything more than a friend. (WE ALL KNOW..)

"That'd be great." 

Serizawa walked over to the door, the bells chiming as he opened it. He held out his arm allowing Reigen to leave the cafe before him. What a gentleman. Reigen smiled as Serizawa walked behind him. He looked almost as a body guard. Reigen wasn't tall, he wasn't short either. 

He was 5'10 (The little liar called himself 6'4 *nobody believed him*). Serizawa on the other hand was tall. He was around 6'2. Serizawa didn't care how tall he was, he never has the chance to talk about it. They walked in the cold for a while. Eventually finding their way to Reigen's apartment. This is also Serizawa's apartment. Haven Hills. 

Serizawa pointed to the complex.

"You live here?"

"I know it's crappy but-"

"I do too."

"Oh really? No way."

"Floor 2. Apartment 505 B"

"I'm just a floor above you, same number too. I think it was Floor 3, apartment 605?"

"How come I've never seen you?"

Reigen shrugged his shoulders. "How come I've never seen you?"

Serizawa chuckled scratching his head. "That's good now knowing I have a friend around here." He gave Reigen a genuine smile. He returned it back.

They were both lost in thought, staring into each-others eyes. Reigen looking up and Serizawa looking down.

God fuck I could just kiss him.

Like now.

Snow flakes fell onto Reigen and Serizawa's jackets as they were still outside the apartment complex interrupting Serizawa's thoughts. 

"Eh?" Reigen looked up at the snow which was falling from the sky. "I didn't expect it to snow, I mean the weather broadcast said not to expect snow for a few weeks." 

Reigen held his hand out, catching mini flakes on his hand.

Reigen took Serizawa's hands, holding onto them aa he tried to catch more with Serizawa's bigger hands. The difference between their hands were big. Serizawa had hair on his knuckled and his palms and fingers were rough, but also gentle? Weird, but oddly comforting to have them in his grasp. 

Serizawa's heart pounded as he felt Reigen's touch, Reigen's hands were soft and slender, he fingernails cut and trimmed short, he looked well

kept. 

"Come on Serizawa! We have to catch all of them and save them!" 

Reigen's hands lingered onto Serizawa's arms as he controlled and swayed them into catching a decent few. (You couldn't see them.)

"I- uh.. don't think we're catching any."

Serizawa's face burned up, his nose cheeks and ears covered in a thick gloss of a light pink. Serizawa was a darker man, so colors didn't show on his face all that much, Reigen couldn't make out what he was feeling but he did see that slight tinge of pink. 

He's so cute.

Reigen didn't care if they weren't catching any, he just wanted an excuse to hold his new friend.

Friends.

Reigen carefully maneuvered Serizawa's hands and guided them into his, staring at the palm of Serizawa's hand. "Nothing." His lips pursed as his eyebrows furrowed, blowing air out his lips to blow the hair out of his face. 

(What did you expect?)

"Ahh.. I'm sorry Reigen..next time?" 

What is he saying? 

Next time..? Did he really say next time..

.. maybe he's saying too much. 

He ruffled Reigen's hair, patting him. God his hair is so soft. The palms of his hands lingered onto his hair for too long. He immediately pulled away and diverted his eyes to stop staring at Reigen. He was pouting and his lips were red from the cold, so were his cheeks.

Reigen was blushing a bit.

Why did Serizawa stop the contact? I wanted to keep touching him. Gosh his hands are so soft. 

Please keep touching me.

"Serizawa?"

"Hm?" he looked down at Reigen, while Reigen stared at the apartment complex.

"Thanks."

"For?"

"You."

[whump-galaxy]

Alright, so in another bad dream, it started pretty normal.

I was driving with my aunt to my school. We got stopped by a light, and to my left there were 2 other cars stopped in the median. Maybe a crash? In the middle, there was a man yelling, waving a weapon around. He walked up the window of one of the other vehicles and started screaming, yelling, waving his arms around at them.

Then he turned to look at me, and started storming over. I tried to push the gas but the car wouldn’t go anywhere. When I turned back, he was already at the window. He broke it with the butt of his weapon, glass shattering into my face and lap. He then pointed the gun in my face and started saying something. I couldn’t make it out, I was absolutely frozen and terrified he’d hurt my aunt.

Then I sort of…woke up in the dream? I was in a new location. In a house I’d never been in before. I was sitting near the door with my hands and legs bound.

The same man walked in, but he walked right past me. He knew I was there, but he didn’t need to acknowledge me. I could feel how heavy his boots were as he walked by. How they shook the glassware on the table.

Luckily I could get my hands free, and untied my legs. He was right in the other room, a kitchen I think, so I had to be careful about my escape. I knew I couldn’t outrun him.

So I took my chance when he had his back turned. I ran out the door. It was overcast and there were plenty of trees canopying the neighborhood. A neighborhood I still do not recognize, except for the Spanish moss hanging from the trees.

It had been drizzling, and the mud tried to slow me with every step. I weaved around houses and through yards, just hoping to find one house that I could get to with enough time to call for help.

But I looked back.

He was following me.

Not just following me.

Olympic level sprinting at me. I couldn’t see his face twisted in anger.

In terror I tried to find somewhere to hide, but I knew I couldn’t outrun him. I knew there was no real hiding spot now.

There was a large mound of dirt by someone’s house. I thought if I could climb it and shout for help, maybe someone would come. Maybe I could trick him into following me up and give me some time to run away.

But when I got to the other side of the mound he was on me. He grabbed me and held me. It was like an inescapable hug. His grip was tight but not painful. Like we both knew I couldn’t escape, so he didn’t need to crush me.

I tried wriggling and crying, saying I was sorry, I wouldn’t tell anyone, I would do anything for him to let me go.

And that’s where that dream ended.

Another, shorter dream:

I was kidnapped by a guy and held in his apartment.

He punched out a mirror and grabbed a shard of glass and sat in front of me.

He had a box of sharp things in front of me, and I was chained to a wall. He smiled, happily playing with the shard of glass. I’d been crying and knew he was going to kill me, or at least torture me to death.

He put down the glass, and said something I can’t remember. He picked up a pair of scissors instead and held them to my neck.

Then he started cutting my neck open. Not just slicing, actually using the cutting motion of the scissors to cut my neck open.

I woke up from that one with my neck feeling funny, but I don’t know what caused it irl.

I have more, and some slightly less traumatizing but nonetheless harrowing dreams. I also have good dreams, but they’re usually a bit less interesting. Usually about food and family.

Then I have the weirdly anxiety inducing recurring dream about having too many chinchillas.

I like having these dreams put to better use than just sitting in my mind, giving me anxiety.

Had a terrible dream where I was stalked and attacked several times by this person. It’s not the first time I’ve had dreams like this. I get bad dreams, nightmares, and sleep paralysis from overheating or sleeping at the wrong angle. This time just felt weirdly personal.

I was trying to protect someone else, a girl younger than me. I knew the stalker was after me, but I still didn’t want her in harms way. A few times we outsmarted him, but when I thought she was safe, the stalker basically held her captive till he knew I was there.

I went to find her and he started chasing me. He tackled me to the ground in the street and beat me with golf clubs and a mallet and something sharp. I protected my face and tried to grab at his weapons to stop him. I managed to hit him back. Maybe I killed him with his own weapon. I don’t know.

Afterward, he was being investigated and they found a lot of evidence of his obsession with me. It wasn’t romantic or anything, he just kept following me and drawing pictures. Pages after pages. I flipped through his journals. Boxes upon boxes of brown paper sketches. Some were graphic and brutal and others were just…me.

That’s when I got woken up, so I guess that’s over.

I get a lot of bad dreams, but this was one of the worst. For now.

[plant-dad-sulu]

not to be sentimental on main (sideblog) but i would kill to live near my friends and get to hang out with them every day sitcom style