#i wish i had the luxury of not having to work in such high stress jobs just to stay afloat

[visiosatanae]

I feel like I need to take a couple years off just to feel normal again

[ilovejeongintoo]

ℂ𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕝𝕖𝕝𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝔸𝕟𝕕 𝕆𝕚𝕝𝕤

!WARNING NSFW Content ahead! !MDNI!

Genre: Strangers to ???, Idol Yeosang x Masseuse Reader Warnings: smut, sensitive Yeosang, dacryphilia, bottom leaning Yeosang Wordcount: 2920

There's not a single day that I can get that damn Yeosang vlog out of my head, I'm actually feral. I also tried writing from mutliple povs this time.

Summary: You've dealt with lots of customers and their wishes, matching everything to their tastes perfectly. The next client you get isn't just special because they're a celebrity, making you want to break some rules to experience everything they have to offer.

Getting gifts was fairly common in the idol industry, usually, it was from fans, but this time it was from one of Yeosang’s fellow members.

Jongho had handed Yeosang a small black card with the words: "Utopia" in cursive lettering, on the back was a fine written description. 

"We can touch utopia, We can reach there, utopia". Jongho had told him that the studio was a very private and high-end massage parlor. Lots of idols bragged about the incredible service and how much better they felt after spending only one session.

Now that caught Yeosangs interest, as he was always looking to take care of his body, working out besides dance and singing lessons and taking his daily supplements. He was a health freak so it couldn't hurt to at least check the place out, and if the muscle bear Jongho liked the place it must be something special.

Especially with all the stress and tension making itself known on his body in the forms of cramps and stiffness he decided it was the time to use his gift.  After a particularly hard week of filming, dancing, and recording for multiple shows he decided to visit the building.

It looked pretty normal from the outside, with tall windows, making him spot the reception immediately and some mood lighting in the lobby. The place wasn't huge but the furniture definitely made everything more luxurious, with black leather and golden accents being in every corner.

He felt a little out of place in the way he looked right now, in casual clothes, barefaced, and hair a white fluffy mess. He tucked his bag more into his body.

He was greeted by the friendly receptionists, with a bright smile as soon as she spotted him. She handed him some documents on a clipboard to fill out, pretty standard questions written on them.

Allergies...blah blah...target areas...and how he discovered the place. Until he got to the second page, dark red paper, bold lettering.

That made his brows crinkle a little, additional services? He decided to leave the page empty not knowing what they had even meant by that. If it was anything important they would just ask him about it.

"The option for additional services can be discussed with the staff that will be taking care of you."

He gave her the clipboard back with a nod.

"Alright Mr. Kang, please come this way. It is a standard procedure that guests at our establishment take a shower first and change into the clothes we provide after."

She began leading him away into a different, darker hallway that was lined with doors. She opened one of them, there was a big massage table in the middle some oils and lotions lined along some shelving. The room itself was illuminated with orange lights making it seem candle-lit.

The woman stopped at the door and gestured for him to enter.

"The shower room is right at the back and the clothes should be there already, I will get one of our staff that specializes in cases such as yours Mr. Kang, as the health of our clients is of utmost importance." She bowed and closed the door. Not giving him the chance to say goodbye and leaving him alone.

 He walked to the door in the back, the bathroom he found there was like a luxury hotel, bright with beige marble and a big tub. There was a bathrobe with the words "Utopia" situated right on top of the sink.

He dropped his bag onto it and began his shower routine.

There was always something relaxing about working in a room that smelled like coconut and vanilla, some soft lights and essential oils. That's exactly why you loved this job and the next best part was the positive reactions of your clients after each session, giving people real relaxations, and time to just wind down. Celebrities often needed just that as they had to upkeep their perfect image.

You got lucky by being able to work in the number one massage parlor in the city. Though some services that were provided here were questionable in your opinion, it wasn't like the staff couldn't say no. It was always a mutual agreement, you haven't yet been able to experience that and you doubt you ever will. As it was rare that any clients piqued your interest enough to go beyond the normal massages. And you were more than satisfied with doing normal massages and therapy, no need to give anyone a blowjob. Some co-workers even slept with some of them. There was one rule, that must be upheld. Anything beyond hands and mouth has to be done after the first session. Which if you were honest didn’t make any sense. Maybe to get more than one session out of the customers.

The door of your office was pushed open by the familiar receptionist, that same customer smile still sat on her face. She handed you a clipboard which you didn't look too closely at.

"They're waiting for you in room 3." She finished, giving you a look and then exiting again. You sighed a little, you were hoping to be done for the day and retire in your office until it was officially closing time. You got up, straightening your dark ruby slacks and matching T-shirt, it almost had a surgical look to it.

You moved out of the room, clipboard in hand, and walked down the long hallway, stopping at the door labeled "3". You knocked twice and then made your way in.

The first thing you saw was a man with platinum hair sitting on the massage stretcher in the allocated clothes. Small face with pretty eyes, the man looked like a statue, he was pretty. The simple shorts and and robe made him look more human though.

"You must be-" You looked at your clipboard"-Mr. Kang?" Making sure you were with the right person.

"Yes." He replied with a polite shy smile on his face, he stood up and reached his hand out for a handshake. Must be nervous if the over-politeness was anything to go by, or maybe he just had good manners.

"Alright, you're here for a full body massage if I'm correct because of some muscle tension and in general to relax."

You read off, still seeing if everything was correct on the form. Your eyes settled back on the man and then you gestured back to the massage bed that he had left a moment prior.

"You can take the robe off and lay on your stomach, any scents that you would like? We have lots of different ones."

He nodded in agreement and then answered "Uhm, just any really, I don't have any preference."

You moved around setting the clipboard on a nearby table and then got a lighter and some candles. Sandalwood was what you had decided on, a woody kind of creamy scent permeating the air right after you lit them. Most people liked the scent plus it had a calming effect.

When you turned back around he was lying down on top of the bed, you grabbed some body oil on the way over pumping a good amount onto your hands and warming it up.

Your gaze settled on the broad back before you, taut muscles and pretty bones, however, that was possible you didn't know. Hetely more built than you would have guessed, his face looked so innocent almost not matching his body. As your hands first made contact with the skin he tensed. "The oil can be a little cold but try to relax, it'll soon get better." You rubbed in circles and lines down his back, tracing the curve of his shoulders and waist. You massaged out knots in his back whenever you felt some in his lower back, it drew out some noises from the man. Probably in pain a little.

As you switched over to just giving him a softer massage, he relaxed fully. Now whenever you would trace some of the skin on his side it made him draw in a sharp breath. Maybe he was a little ticklish. You moved further down his body to his legs, grabbing some more oil and then massaging the back of his thighs and calves. Those areas usually went by pretty fast so you picked up your voice from where it was quiet in the room.

"You can turn over on your back now." Which he did, a little slow seemingly still a little dazed from relaxation. You smiled at that.

You went over his arms you went along his shoulder and you then traced along the edges of his chest pulling your hands downwards to his ribs. That made him squirm away from you a little. You just continued moving to his hips and legs. You first went along the bottom part of his legs and then slowly massaged your fingerpads into his thighs, you made sure to get in there.

The thick muscle was harder and bigger than most, some noises left Yeosang at the pressure. The closer you moved to his hips the more he felt the touches, each leaving him more electrified than relaxed.

He tried his best to think away the erection that was making itself noticeable with each passing second. He tried thinking about math something neutral or just nothing, but nothing seemed to work. Not with the way that your hands were rubbing at him, but with the added scent and lighting, each sensation was highlighted.

When the press of your hands went to the space of his hips and legs that was when he knew he was fucked. A muffled grunt left him, you were at his side having lifted one of his legs, keeping it at an angle.

The pressure went from hard, deep tissue massages to almost dragging your fingers along the skin. It almost felt like you were teasing him, of course, that was his mind making up his own wild scenarios though.

The increase in arousal made Yeosang take a closer look at you, going along the line of your body and lingering on a few places. Your face, shoulder down to your chest then at those hips. He closed his eyes again trying to calm his breathing.

But there was just absolutely nothing stopping him from getting hard. Him closing his eyes just made him picture you in his mind, over this bed him on top plunging into you. Or maybe you would climb on top of him and ride him until you came all over him.

Your hands stopping drew him out of his dirty mind. You noticed the problem that had made itself very well known in Yeosang’s pants now.

“Would you like any additional services?” You asked in a very calm tone. It confused Yeosang not knowing what you meant, not until he saw how you were looking at him now. Eyes dark, big pupils that swallowed the color of your iris. The hidden meaning made itself apparent in the way that you caressed the side of his thigh and leaned closer.

Finally understanding that this wasn’t just a normal massage parlor.

It made his breath hitch and he felt himself nod in permission. Your hands moved to the waistband of his shorts rather fast, pulling them down to reveal his already hard cock. You reached down grabbing a bottle of lube from seemingly thin air, maybe this was part of the normal service here? 

That would explain the lube that was in immediate reach of you.

That thought made him feel less nervous to continue this with a stranger. When your, now-wet hand grabbed ahold of his cock he gritted his teeth to not make a sound. There was no way that he would let anyone hear the embarrassing noises coming out of him. But with each pump, it was increasingly becoming more difficult to not make any at all noise. The wet noises were an added stimulus making it even harder for him to keep quiet.

The lack of noise prompted you to utter the next words right in his ear; “The walls are soundproof, don’t worry.” The relaxation of his jaw and the moans that followed were so loud that maybe even the thick walls wouldn’t be able to contain them. No one had ever been that reactive to your touch, no ex-boyfriend or hookup could compare with the way that Yeosang was panting and moaning from your touch. His enjoyment wasn’t just apparent from his loudness, the pre-cum and thin layer of sweat that had formed was an even clearer sign. Mixing itself with the neutral smell of the oil.

You traced your tongue on the planes of his abdomen until you stopped at his nipples, taking one into your mouth while the other was played with by your hand. You massaged his pec playing with the sensitive muscle.

The action made Yeosang let out the loudest of moans. You continued flicking his nipple switching from one to the other. Not stopping the continuous pumping of your hand which had him not even a minute later seize and cum all over your hand, coating it in his release.

You didn’t stop swirling your tongue and hand, too keen on having him melt into a complete puddle of his pleasure. His hips jerked away at the overstimulation until he grew hard again.

Your eyes were still locked on the sight of his dick when you looked towards his face. The teary-eyed look and flushed mess that he had become was a deadly combination. You ignored the pulse of your neglected pussy, which no doubt had soaked through your thong.

You kissed down his chest until your face was right in front of his dick, almost salivating at the messy and wet sight. It curved so prettily that if it was inside you, it would no doubt hit all your favorite spots. It would reach so deep, filling you up. Now wasn’t about you though, it was about the alluring man in front of you.

You caught the cute pink tip in your mouth, getting a clear taste of him. His hands landed on your head in a death grip with the most unholy of noises. It sounded like a choked moan, so raw that it made you look up into those same pretty eyes.

Yeosang looked like he was on the verge of crying, mouth just slightly open. You experimentally licked at the tip, his hands hardening their grip on your hair and coaxing another sound out of him.

Sensitive hm?

You smiled around him, so devilishly. You thrived from all the attention and unsaid praise that he was giving you in the form of those, sweet sweet sounds.

This was better than any wordy praise. You hollowed your cheeks and sank down completely, relaxing your throat and bobbing your head. You were slowly building a rhythm. Every sound Yeosang made sent another signal down to your pussy, making it gush and stimulate it without any touch at all. You were so close to just stuffing yourself with your fingers.

The tears that had been waiting to spill over this whole time finally did, streaming down his face. You sucked on his cock like it was delicious, you craved the taste of his cum down your throat. If your mouth wasn’t stuffed with it you’d be begging for him to fill it up. 

And to see that tear-stricken face at the peak of pleasure. You got what you wanted, with Yeosang pulling you completely down and connecting your mouth with his pelvis for one last time. 

A final groan and the white liquid spilled down your throat, his legs shaking and tensing. You tried your best to swallow some still leaking out at the sides of your mouth. You made sure to snap your eyes up to capture the exact moment that he came, his eyes squeezed shut and his head downturned to you. Pretty angled brows furrowed, pretty lips open, pretty cheeks flushed everything was pretty pretty.

You pulled off, licking his cock off making him look at you again. You stood up on shaky legs, running your hands along his thick legs for the last time before you reached over to grab his shorts off the floor.

You handed them to him with his robe and licked your lips off any remaining cum.

“The showers are open to use and wash off any oil, hopefully, I can be of service when you decide to pay us a visit again.” Completely professional, with a sly smile like you knew he would come back. The only evidence that any of this just happened was in your messed up hair and flushed cheeks, perfectly matching Yeosang’s.

You turned to the door ready to walk out and ready to go home and finish yourself off. The no-fucking rule in the first session was the least of your concerns right now, but losing your job was not on your list of things to do.

 With each second you spent longer in this room you were considering it more and more.

So you would have to get out of here right now.

But not without saying a little something.

“If you ever feel the need to relax and let go for a day…well you know where to find me Yeosang.”

And with that, the door closed leaving a breathless blushing Yeosang behind.

[msbigredmachine]

New To This - Chapter 2

A/N: Thank you all for the wonderful response to the first chapter, I really appreciate it!

Enjoy Chapter 2!

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Home for Delilah was a small, aging modular house tucked away in an urban suburb in eastern Pensacola. It previously belonged to Andre’s father, and it served as a fairly decent abode for the young couple ever since they got engaged nearly two years ago. Andre had been living there for a decade, moving in to work at his uncle’s auto shop immediately after graduating from high school. It wasn't the most luxurious of dwellings, but it beat the miniscule space she’d been crammed in with her father, mother and older sister for years, so Delilah really couldn't complain.

Rolling her eyes at her mother’s wedding-laden text message, she pulled her keys from her pocket, guided it into the lock and pushed open the door. Closing it firmly behind her, she leaned back against it, shutting out the rest of the world for the rest of the day. Hanging her hooded jacket on the hook by the door, she kicked off her sneakers and dumped them in the corner along with her gym bag, knowing she put them in their proper place, but was too tired and hungry to worry about that right then.

She wandered into the kitchen, ignoring the small stack of unopened bills on the countertop, and opened the refrigerator. The three pieces of leftover chicken and half-full bottle of red wine wasn’t going to cut it. Sadly, ordering takeout was a bit of a luxury right now, so she had to make do with whatever she could find in the refrigerator and the pantry. Luckily, her mother had ensured that both of her daughters became creative enough cooks to see through any food shortage, which, these days, occurred more often than Delilah liked to admit. So, retrieving as many ingredients as she could find, she set about making dinner for herself and Andre, a peace offering of sorts after their turbulent morning.

It had been a stressful last few months, combining her wrestling classes with numerous double shifts at both her jobs to make ends meet. Adding the equally demanding task of planning her wedding was not helping. More frustrating, at least, according to Andre, was the fact that their nuptial plans were being delayed by her so-called ambitions, chipping away at what little income they both earned. Delilah truly wished he could see the big picture, or at the very least, show a little more support. He, of all people, should have her back. That the rest of the townspeople thought she was out of her mind didn’t mean that he had to agree with them.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard the front door open. Knowing who it was, her insides clenched a little with apprehension, wondering, perhaps hopeful even, that her fiancé would be in a reconciliatory mood. The footsteps coming from the living area got louder as they got nearer. Delilah diverted her focus from the saucepan to watch Andre stroll into the kitchen. and despite the tension that had been brewing between them all day, her heart couldn’t help but welcome the affection that rushed over her for him.

Andre Gibson had been every girl’s fantasy once upon a time. Still was, if Delilah was being honest. He was yet to lose any of the physical traits that made him so desirable back in high school. Just hitting six feet, his body was lean and toned from years of doing most of the heavy lifting at his father’s landscaping business. They were inseparable when they were younger; the best thing about school for her was sneaking out to hang out with him, making out with him in the bleachers after basketball games. It was like Heaven for Delilah, elated to be in a spot so many girls were dying to be in. The romance continued after high school, to Delilah’s pleasant surprise, culminating in his proposal two years ago on her twenty-second birthday. And now here they were, living together as soon-to-be man and wife.

“Hey,” he mumbled, rubbing a dirt-streaked hand over his tired face. His worn shirt was unbuttoned with his toned abs on display, and he dumped his backpack on the ground against the wall by the back door.

“Hey,” Delilah returned his greeting. “You’re home early. How did your day go?”

His tired sigh preceded his reply. “Same old, same old. We had one breakthrough though. Pops and I finally completed Mrs. Whelan’s garden.”

“Oh yeah, I remember you talking about that,” she said, stirring the contents in the skillet. “That’s great. I’m glad to know you finally pulled it off.”

“Same here, babe.” He came up behind her, peering over her shoulder. “What’cha got cookin’?”

“Improvising a little with the leftover chicken,” she started, pausing when his hands cupped her hips and his lips met her shoulder. And right away, she knew what this was. This was his way of apologizing about this morning; showing her affection without saying a word. That was the thing about her relationship with Andre. There was something special about the way that they didn't have to speak to know what the other was thinking. They fought, then acted like nothing had ever happened when they got back together. She felt he was in the wrong for this argument, but she wasn’t expecting an apology…no apologies were ever really exchanged afterwards…Everything just went back to normal, seemingly papering over the cracks, in Delilah’s humble opinion. But it kept the peace, so it was better if she kept that little discrepancy to herself.

“Now that we know how your day went, you wanna hear about mine?” she asked.

Chuckling to himself, Andre pushed gently away from her. “Sure, babe,” he said, “How was training today?”

“Tough as fuck,” Delilah grumbled, as Andre grabbed a glass and held it underneath the kitchen faucet. “Tank’s not letting up, even with two days to go till my match. But you’ll never believe who showed up at the warehouse today.”

“You really want me to guess?”

“Maybe not,” she conceded with a giggle, her eyes brightening with excitement as she recalled their brief meeting. “Jey Uso! Jey Uso of all people, Dre!”

Andre raised an eyebrow in confusion. “Am I supposed to know who that is?”

“He’s a big shot in the WWE. One of the top guys in the entire company,” she explained, even though it would most likely fall on deaf ears. “And the coolest part is he’s from right here. Raised in Pensacola just like we were.”

“That’s nice,” Andre responded with a nonchalant, almost bored tone as he settled down at the kitchen table. Delilah was well aware that Andre didn’t watch wrestling. He always called it fake and childish, but that opinion changed slightly when Delilah returned home from her very first class with bruises all over her body. She’d hoped he’d take interest in it, if only for her sake, but that didn’t look like it was happening anytime soon.

She finished making dinner and set a plate in front of him, shredded caramelized chicken with white rice and fresh tomato salad. It wasn’t gourmet, but Delilah had done what she could with what little they had. “Mm, smells good,” Andre complimented, grabbing his cutlery to dig in. Delilah sat beside him, casting pensive glances at him as she ate, pondering the right time to ask him a burning question. It was a few bites into her meal when she decided now was the right time.

“You know, you still ain’t told me if you’re coming to see my match or not,” she spoke up.

Andre’s cutlery ceased their skittering across his plate, and he averted his gaze. Delilah detected his answer right away, and her shoulders dropped. “You’re not,” she sighed, shaking her head.

“I didn’t say that,” he said quickly, “But you do understand why I won’t be able to make it, babe. You know what work is like for me these days.”

“I’ve been talking about this for weeks, Dre! You know how important this is to me! It’s my very first match! It’s in two days. Or did you forget that too?” Angrily, she stabbed her fork into a piece of chicken, trying not to imagine it was her fiancé’s eyeball. “You know what? Forget it. You don’t gotta come if you don’t want to.”

Andre started to counter her, but stopped, thinking twice about it. The last thing he wanted was yet another fight, because this was exactly how it always started. They’d been arguing a lot lately, and honestly? He was already over it. “Look…I’ll do my best to make it to your match,” he said.

“Yeah right,” Delilah rolled her eyes, ignoring the glimmer of hope that bloomed within her. “I ain’t holdin’ my breath, that’s for sure.”

“Come on, babe, I’m for real. I’ll clear out my schedule. I’ll set a reminder on my phone and stuff. I promise. Just gimme the details and I’m on it.” He stared at her with pleading eyes, determined to keep the peace between them. It had been a long, tense day, and in-house tension was the last thing he needed.

Delilah smiled, finally. “Fine. I can work with that,” she agreed. “Now finish up. Your mom sent me a few ideas on places we can have the reception. And after that…If you’re a good boy, maybe later, I’ll show you a new move I learned today.” She leaned closer to him, whispering in his ear, “In bed.”

The hand she’d placed on his thigh suggested volumes, and the tantalizing prospect made Andre smile, “Sounds like a plan, babe.” And with that, things were back to normal.

Or so they both wanted to believe.

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The next morning…

Good thing she didn’t hold her breath in the end.

As Delilah dumped the heavy weights on the ground, she let out a loud growl, trying to release the tension surging through her body. She paced back and forth frantically as she glanced around the small gym, looking for what else to take out her anger on. Every muscle in her body was begging for mercy, but she couldn't stop. She had to take her frustrations out on something, otherwise she would take it out on someone, preferably Andre. Luckily, the gym was relatively empty, sparing some poor soul from her unwarranted wrath.

Fucking coward. He couldn’t even tell her to her face that he’d changed his mind about coming to her show. If that was even his intention in the first place. He’d scribbled some lame ass excuse on a piece of paper while she slept, and left it on his side of the bed before scurrying off to work. He was long gone by the time she woke up, presenting her with fewer reasons to trust her future husband.

The music blaring in her ears made it impossible for Delilah to hear or see anyone around her. And the anger she was feeling made her essentially ignore her surroundings. So it took her completely aback when she turned towards the direction of the punching bags only to run smack into a brick wall. "What the fuck!"

Josh smirked slightly as he took a step back, watching her yank the buds out of her ears. "Ay, my bad, on me," he apologized, chuckling at the discombobulated look on her face. "Thought you saw me comin’."

"Clearly not. You ain’t that hard to miss," Delilah snapped, tearing the fingerless gloves off her hands. "What are you even doing here?" she shot, noting vaguely that he didn’t look dressed for a workout. The man who had, just the day before, seemed imposing and breath-taking, was now just another testosterone-filled asshole standing in her way, like her fiancé.

Josh crossed his tattooed arms and stared at her. "Relax," he smiled. "Thought I would stop by and see how you were feelin' about tomorrow night, but I guess that's pretty obvious," he said, eyeing her up and down. He’d been on the mark about her body…bangin’ was an understatement. He forced himself to maintain eye contact to avoid staring at her nipples protruding through her sports bra.

Delilah grabbed the bottle of water sat on the nearby bench, unscrewing the cap and taking a few gulps. There was more than one reason she was feeling the way she was, and none of them put the butterflies in her stomach at ease. "I don’t even know why I’m trippin’," she shrugged. "I'm only jobbin' out anyway. Why would I want him to see me lose?"

“Want who to see you lose?” Josh inquired.

Delilah pursed her lips, contemplating whether she should answer or not. “My fiancé.”

He regretted asking. “Oh. Right. Tank said something like that,” he mumbled.

Delilah stared up at the huge man with narrowed eyes. “You and Tank talked about me?”

“Not the way you think,” Josh quickly clarified at her suspicious expression. “He has a lot of faith in you, which is why you ain’t gotta worry so much about tomorrow. You’ll be fine.”

"You make it sound so easy-breezy,” Delilah groaned, shoving her sweaty hair away from her equally sweaty face. “Maybe if one of us got hurt, the fans will have something to remember the match by."

Now it was Josh's turn to roll his eyes. Damn rookies. "Yeah, then you’ll be the fragile weakling nobody wanna work with. I know Tank taught you better than that," he countered. "Look, it ain’t all about winning and losing, not right now anyway. It’s about making an impression on your audience. The fans need a reason to keep watching you, and the suits need a reason they should hire you to wrestle. So everything you do in that ring matters. As long as your match is entertaining as fuck and you don’t kill anyone, that’s all they’ll care about."

Raising an eyebrow, Delilah chuckled. "Right. I’ll keep that in mind for tomorrow," she said. Biting her lip in contemplation, she met his eyes again and fought the urge to swoon.

"Ay, it’s okay to be nervous. You gotta phase that out, though,” he added. “And whatever you got going on at home, put that shit aside until after the match." 

It was a little unnerving how well he’d read her. “Easier said than done,” she scoffed.

For a second, Josh thought about prying, but decided against it. "Wanna know what I was like the morning of my very first match?" He watched her countenance perk up, giving him a curious half-smile that he thought was insanely attractive. "I got so nervous, thinkin’ and worryin’ about the match and shit, that I forgot my bag with my wrestling gear in it. Boots and all. I didn’t realize it until I got to the arena," he explained. “I had to rush back home, and the traffic was so crazy, I didn’t get back to the arena until about ten minutes before my match. That shit sucked ass, man.”

Nibbling on her bottom lip again, Delilah eyed Josh with awe as he spoke, his understanding words and softer eyes putting her more at ease than before. To think that the great Jey Uso had felt this jittery before his first match made her feel like they had a little more in common now.

"I really want this, ya know?" she said, relaxing some more as she confided in him. "I've always wanted this. I had a later start than most, I’ll admit, and I’m playing catch-up. That’s why I'm busting my ass so hard," she admitted. "There’s no room for error, Jey. I gotta be perfect."

Licking his lips subconsciously, Josh watched her take another sip of her water, some of it escaping her lips and trickling down the valley between her breasts, and felt a tightness deep in his gut. "Perfection don’t exist, baby girl, not in pro wrestling," he pointed out, his eyes reactively sweeping down the curves of her body before he spoke again. "Look, if Tank thinks you ready for this, then you ready," he said.

Delilah sighed heavily. She could only hope Tank was right. As she picked up her towel and bag off of the floor, she stopped short, and then turned to face him again. “Wait…Did you just call me baby girl?” she asked him.

A smirk twitched at the corner of his lips. “Sorry. Bad habit. I meant no disrespect. If I offended you, I'm sorry.” He stepped closer to her. “Forgive me?”

Delilah swallowed, taking a few steps of her own backwards. She noticed his lips twitch again in amusement. “Uh…yeah. Sure.” 

Josh smiled. “Preciate that, Delilah.” He backed away. “I’ll see you tomorrow night. Think about what I said, a’ight?”

She watched him walk away from her and out of the gym, so many questions on the tip of her tongue. Her hand tightened over her water bottle, and she suddenly felt the need to take a cold shower, or two.

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Thoughts?

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Could you do more parent headcanons but with miko and ningguang

Parent Headcanons - Ningguang & Yae Miko

Genre: Fluff

Characters: Ningguang & Yae Miko

A/N: Reader is a long-lived yokai in Miko's part. Miko has a lot from a fox in her. Mentions of sex.

A/N: Thank you for the ask, anon. I hope everyone likes it! :3

Ningguang

She's always had an eye for priceless treasure. And you were possibly the best find in her life.

If Ningguang has a dream, she will pursue it. Whether it be building a new Jade Chamber, expanding Liyue Harbor or having a family, you will be there to help her, no?

Her child's gender is of no importance to her, but she does understand the challenges they would face depending on it. A son would be most likely crushed under societal expectations brought upon by his mother's status, and a daughter would be facing a tsunami of suitors, desperate to marry themselves into the goldmine that is your family. Whatever the challenges will be, Ningguang will always support her little ones.

She will likely want a single child. Not only will they have her full attention, but their upbringing will be easier to reconcile with her work.

The Tianquan will be another one to take her time with having a child. There is no need to hurry, and she wants to have everything in place beforehand. This is not a matter to take lightly.

She will certainly flaunt the ring you gave her. She could be in a meeting with some rich businessman, whose attempts at flirting are as subtle as Inazuma's fireworks, and all of a sudden she lifts her left hand to twirl her hair, showing off her occupied ring finger to the guy. Their reactions are always priceless.

The ring was enough to cause quite a sensation amongst the entire population of Liyue. Imagine what her growing belly would have done, especially that your wedding was held high in the sky, away from the public eye.

She would cut away at her work hours significantly. Important meeting past the ten hour mark? It can wait, independent of how whiny the other party is.

Ningguang had a rough childhood to say the least. She had to mature quickly, facing with the threat of poverty every waking second. Sure, it shaped her into the person she is now, but it's not what she would wish for anyone, especially her child.

Good thing she has a lot of spare money to use.

Unlike her back in the early days, they will be wearing the finest silk and eat the finest, healthiest meals money could buy.

All of this spoiling won't mean they will be free to idle around the Jade Chamber however.

Not having the privilege of education in her childhood, and having to teach herself with books bought with Mora earned through blood, sweat and tears made her value it much more than the average person, so it's only natural that she will put much weight on it. Her child will not only learn disembodied theoretical knowledge, not at all in fact. They will have to attend meetings and take lectures from her once they become old enough to get practical experience.

She won't force her heirs to assume the same role as her. All the luxury and prestige aside, it's hard and ungrateful work most of the time. You are faced with a lot of criticism on a daily basis, and not everyone has the guts to bear it. If her child doesn't feel adequate for the spot of a Qixing, she's fine with that.

Her expectations will be high, so your child will be under a lot of stress. You get that she wants only the best for them, but remind her to relax once in a while.

Bold of you to think anyone would dare to pick on her little one. She wouldn't even have to move a finger - as soon as the parents of the perpetrator get the memo, they will come crawling to her on their own, begging for forgiveness. And she will revel in their horror.

Mother Ningguang? 8/10. She is loving, but often too demanding.

Yae Miko

Most of her yokai friends are dead by this point, so finding one she actually loves, especially a fellow kitsune, will be a huge emotional boost for her.

Despite her teasing attitude and somewhat care-free nature, she is quite lonely and most likely struggling with depression. Being surrounded by people who can't really understand you, having only memories left of the people who could and being abandoned by her best friend for several centuries certainly affected Miko, regardless of her power level or status.

As such, the opportunity of having children is not one she is willing to sleep on.

Even if that means having 4 to 6 of them. It will require a huge amount of time and effort from the both of you, but it will all be worth it in the end for her.

Miko doesn't really have a say in how many children she wants to have - her biology doesn't really care about her opinion. She has no preference in their gender as well. Having 5 children of the same sex would be really unlikely. Even if that's the case, she would be more happy than not to get so lucky.

When your relationship will reach the point of you both being ready and willing to build a home for yourselves, she won't wait. Why would she? She is the Guuji, for Celestia's sake. It's as if anyone was bold enough to speak out against her, anyway.

She will, however, wait with the whole 'making of' for when her (and yours too, if you're a kitsune) heat comes in. Since she already got it back after centuries of repressing it on the account of lacking a partner, why not use it for all it's worth? Good luck getting out of your shared house for a month straight - Miko will make sure there is no way she won't be expecting children after that.

Miko will assign an acting Guuji for a whole year, most likely. A storm is coming, and it will surely use up all of her energy. Also, she doesn't care about her job enough to waste her time when a moment of this magnitude is just around the corner.

Honestly, seeing Yae Miko with her children would be the best thing ever.

The little ones will rely on their instincts to function at first - one of them being to snuggle with their mother at any opportunity given.

You'll just find a sleeping pile of kitsune in various spots around your house. When you join them, Miko will whisper in a sleepy tone about how it's the best place to be in. It's what gives her the strength to keep going.

When the kids get their walking privileges, they will be an absolute menace. They'll hang around the house, play fighting, staring out the windows at any birds flying by or just running around, destroying anything they come across in the process. Damage control will be hard with 5 little marauders to keep track of.

It will also be an opportunity to see Miko drop all of her acts. She will just be herself. No smug comments, no teasing, no sneaky plots to make you flustered. Just genuinely smiling, laughing and doing silly things.

When they grow up, Miko will join them in being a headache for you. Her mischievousness will grow exponentially, leading to a lot of small, but annoying consequences to deal with. She will never let it go too far, though. She values your patience greatly.

Pictures, pictures, pictures. Everywhere around the house. Pictures of her and her children sleeping, eating, playing, going on walks or at the beach will occupy every piece of wall you have in your house. She will never get tired of her litter. And her husband, of course.

Ei will be happy for Miko, very happy indeed. She saw Makoto interact with mortal children, and wishes to try it herself. But do not, for any reason whatsoever, leave her alone with the pink-eared creatures. She has zero babysitting skills to speak of, and her 'attempts' will most likely leave your house a smoking ruin. One child would be a lot for her to handle, but FIVE? Absolute nightmare for her.

Miko will not force her offspring into any positions or jobs. Life is meant to be fun, isn't it? She'll let them pursue whatever makes them happy, unless it involves the Shrine in any capacity.

Bullies? No. Just no.

Miko is the absolute best parent of Inazuma, and maybe even the whole Teyvat. 10/10.

Thanks for reading!

[bluekittyworld]

There is Karma [Chapter 3]

Likes and reblogs are much appreciated!

Warning: smut 18+

Masterlist

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 4

You rushed home, did your makeup again, just simple foundation, lipstick and eyeliner, you let your hair down it naturally had soft curls. You wondered would a dress be better or trousers? After trying about twenty outfits and making a pile of clothes on the floor by your cupboard,  you finally decided on wearing black lose fitted trousers and a green shirt with gold buttons, and for accessories you worse gold earring. Taking your black shoulder bag and ensuring you have your card, car guys and phone, you headed towards your car, it was 6:30pm on the dot, the GPS showed it takes 25 minutes to reach Yoongi’s address, everything was within time, you let out a breath you didn’t even realise you were holding. It was nerve wrecking and exciting at the same time.

You arrived to the address, you were expecting apartments, but instead you saw a lovely mansion, it was huge with automatic gates, you were at the gates, before you even rolled down your window to press the intercom, the gates automatically opened, that meant he was watching you on the cctv, you smiled, this man was truly a gentleman, taking care of the smallest details to make the other person comfortable as possible.

You parked your car by the extravagant fountain and walked to the front door, Yoongi was already there leaning by the door frame. He was wearing black sweatpants and a white t-shirt, hair tousled some of it over his eyes, his cherry lips smiling at you. You smiled back, was he always this handsome? 

“Hi” you waved.

“Hey _____”

Your name on his lips sounded so sexy.

Yoongi motioned you to come in shutting the door behind, everything in his house screamed luxury, from the marble floors to the designer sofas. Yoongi wasn’t a minimalist or a maximalist, everything was just right, you noticed he used the colour scheme of green and black throughout his house, it was pretty and coincidentally matching your outfit. You smiled that you ended up wearing his favourite colours.

“So _____, how was your day?” he asked, pulling out a chair for you to sit in his kitchen.

“Stressful, my brother dumped a lot of work on me.” You pouted.

Yoongi chuckled and winked “Hopefully the coffee tasting can take your tiredness away.”

You smiled back, he was making butterflies wild in your tummy.

The evening was going great, Yoongi made you taste a total of seven different coffee blend with toffee syrup, and you both came down to a single blend, Yoongi decided to sell that blend for his winter special across his cafes. You were glad you could help and it felt really nice bonding with him. Soon it was 10:30pm, time flew with Yoongi, you had work the following morning, you should go back home, but another 30 minutes with Yoongi won’t be too bad right? When will you get another chance to be here giggling with him… so you decided to stay till 11pm. 

Yoongi was visibly a lot more comfortable around you now, you noticed how his eyes almost disappeared when he was laughing, how his hair moved around, how beautiful his hands are, how milky white and clear his skin is. Most of all how melodic his voice is, so masculine and deep, you wish you could fall asleep to his voice. You were looking at him, you hadn’t noticed how close he had come to you, maybe noticed your attraction to him too? He tucked your hair behind your ear, as he was about to retreat his hand, you placed yours over his, keeping his hand on your cheek.

“Yoongi?” you whispered.

“Mhm?” he looked deep into your eyes.

“I like you” you confessed.

He didn’t react at all, he was just stood there, not a single muscle moved, you somewhat felt stupid for saying that to him, clearly you were imagining things and Yoongi didn’t feel the same way about you, you felt embarrassed to the core, you got off the high stool chair to excuse yourself, tears burning your eyes threatening to fall. Just then Yoongi gently pushed your back into the kitchen worktop, trapping you between it and himself, he cupped your face and brought his lips as close as possible to yours but not touching them.

“May I?” he whispered.

His minty warm breath intoxicating you, you nodded, and he didn’t waste a second you seal your lips with his. He tasted like vanilla and coffee, you closed your eyes and indulged in the feeling, it was perfect, you wished time had stopped here. He let go when you were out of breath, you opened your eyes and looked up to him, he was smiling, and his eyes were full of lust. Yoongi moved back, he didn’t do more, you wished he had though, he didn’t look you back at you again.

“I’ll see you again sometime soon.” He said in a monotone voice with his back towards you.

You were hurt, you’re sure he enjoyed that too but why was he acting this way?

You just nodded and left, you’re not sure if he even saw your nod, you didn’t want to speak you knew your voice would crack. Leaving his house and sitting in your car you let your tears fall, why was he behaving this way? The whole night in your bed the same question ran through your mind, you checked your phone multiple times to see if he messaged you, but the notifications stayed empty, you don’t know when you fell asleep.

A few days had passed, and you did find out, it was true your father was in talks of setting your future with Park Jimin. The Park Jimin known to be a womanizer, born with a golden spoon but zero manners. You tried to negotiate with your father you didn’t want a future with Jimin, but your father thought he gave you a life of luxury, so he was allowed to make such decisions for you.

You were depressed, everything was not going your way, Yoongi ignored you like you never existed, this Park Jimin arranged marriage thing was annoying you, workload was too much that every day you spent extra hours in the office. It was finally Saturday and you decided to do nothing today other than lay in bed and watch drams, you were watching The Legend of the Blue Sea when your phone rang, you decided to ignore it not even checking the screen, somebody from work is probably calling. After finishing your episode and not feeling like watching the next one, you decided to check your phone, there were a couple of calls from Yoongi, and like 20 messages from him. You were shocked, you immediately rang back, before checking the messages.

“Hello?” you said.

In a response you heard a sneeze from Yoongi.

“I’m outside your house please open the door, your doorbell isn’t working or something?” he said sniffling, you checked outside and it was raining, had he been waiting in the rain all this time…

You ran downstairs, still in your pyjamas and opened the door, there you saw a soaked Yoongi. You moved aside to let him step in, it was all too shocking why was he here and why was he waiting for so long…?

“Yoongi, why are you here?” you asked.

“______, I’m sorry” he said as he handed you a bouquet of wet flowers.

You were confused and surprised, “I thought…”

Yoongi silenced you with a kiss, “I said I’m sorry, I just needed time to arrange my feelings for you”

His clothes were dripping, you placed the bouquet on your dining table and rushed to get him a towel. He was grateful, you eyed him and asked, “Why didn’t you wait in your car or something?”

 “I took a taxi to the shops then walked it here, it wasn’t supposed to rain today” he sneezed, making you smile a little.

“Come upstairs and wash up in hot water while I get some clothes for you” you suggested.

He nodded and followed you. After getting changed and dried, he came downstairs, you prepared some hot soup for the both of you. All your anger towards him dissipated seeing him in your oversized clothes, they fitted him perfectly, his semi-dry black locks framed his face, that damn smile melted your heart each time. 

 “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ignore you, I just… I have feelings for you and I was a little scared...” Yoongi spoke up.

You smiled, this big grown man was shy from you, instead of responding with words you softly kissed his lips, you felt him smile into the kiss, he placed a hand on the small of your back, pulling you in closer, he smelt of your shampoo and his natural musk, driving you insane.

After eating and spending some time talking, Yoongi asked you “_____ will you be mine?” You nodded eagerly, this beautiful man was now yours and you were his, you jumped into his embrace, this Saturday could not be better.

It was your 1-month anniversary, you had invited Yoongi to your house to celebrate, he found it amusing how you wanted to celebrate each month of being together. You prepared a range of food, including his favourite dishes, and bought a beautiful cake for dessert. You put on your favourite bodycon long sleeve black dress with matching red lingerie underneath, yes you had other ideas in your head, Yoongi hadn’t made any advances other than passionate kissing.

Soon he arrived, he was surprised to see the candlelit dining room.

He covered your eyes brought you towards the mirror, he opened a box from what you could hear, and cold metal draped around your neck, you opened your eyes to see a diamond serpent necklace adorning your neck, he smiled at you in the reflection.

“Hope you like it” he said as he handed you the box.

You loved it, it was like a metal snake around your neck and when you looked down at the box, it said BVLGARI, this man really didn’t care about how much spent on you.

“Thank you, Yoongi” you tiptoed and kissed his cheek.

He smiled back at you as he sat down at your dining table.

“Yoongi?” you asked.

He looked up from his food towards you and smiled, he relished in the dishes you cooked for him, he genuinely enjoyed your cooking.

“Please stay the night” you whispered.

He nodded; you felt a sense of satisfaction.

The evening turned into the night as you both laughed over the most random topics, you often caught Yoongi looking at you with sadness in his eyes, you ignored the uneasy feeling.

As the clock hit midnight, you took his hand and took him to your bedroom, pushing him on your bed and kissing him with passion, he held your back with one hand and the other behind your head pushing you more into himself.

“_____” he whispered.

“Mhm?” You asked.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asked your permission, trying to hold himself back.

“I do” you smiled and took his lips back between yours nibbling on his lower lip, making him moan.

Yoongi’s hands were tender as he unzipped your dress and took it off every so gently making sure not to damage it in the process. He licked his lips when he saw what you were wearing under it, his eyes becoming more lustful, the way the red lace contrasted your skin was beautiful. Yoongi laid you on your back and took his time to appreciate your body, his lips hovered over your clothed breast and left many kisses before he slipped a hand behind your back and skilfully unbuckled your bra. He didn’t even bother to take it off, he slipped it a little lower freeing your breasts, as he took one nipple in his mouth and the other between his hand. The way he moved his tongue and bit down made you moan his name over and over. Slowly he moved his way down onto your tummy leaving butterfly kisses all over as he reached the band of your panties.

He slowly removed them carefully as he caressed your thighs and kissed them. He then proceeded to kiss your pussy, your breath hitched at this action of his and it certainly didn’t go unnoticed by him, he smirked and moved back up. He looked down at you and removed his t-shirt and joggers, taking one of your hands and placing it on his abs encouraging you to touch him, you enjoyed this feeling. 

Yoongi had removed your bra completely at this point, he had one hand on your boob, the other between your hair as he kissed you passionately. He grinded his clothed dick over your naked pussy, making you moan multiple times into the kiss. He was gentle with each move, taking care of you and making your pleasure his top priority. You wanted to feel more, you pushed your hip upwards earning a chuckle from Yoongi. He took off his boxers, giving you what you wanted.

“Please Yoongi” you looked up into his eyes, he nodded.

He took hold of his dick and slipped the tip between your folds, sliding it up and down, driving you insane, then without warning he slipped right in as deep as he could. You screamed his name in pleasure, it felt so good to be so full, you quickly adjusted to his size. He had the perfect length and girth, he was fast, with each push he watched your boobs bounce and he loved the sight, he really was a boob guy. He held onto your hips tightly as he went harder and faster, you were so close, he knew this how your walls were squeezing down on him making it harder for him to push in and out.

“Do it” he demanded, and that’s all it took you as you came all over his dick, he kept going at the same speed, enjoying looking at you become overstimulated, he took one hand off your hip and his thumb started circling your clit, that brought you to another high.

“Together?” he said, and you nodded.

“3… 2… 1 Now” he counted, and you both came together, you could feel his warmth fill you like a tsunami, you milked him as much a you could until he became limp. He stayed inside you for a little bit as he moved the hair stuck to your face because of your sweat, and he kissed you tenderly. He pulled out earning a small whine from you, he just smiled back and fell beside you, taking you into his embrace, stroking your hair slowly.

“_____” Yoongi looked deep into your eyes “I love you” he whispered.

In return you cuddled him even tighter and put your leg over him, he pulled the blanket over you both and soon you were snoring lightly in his arms, he pulled you closer to his chest and kissed your forehead.

The following morning you woke up to an empty bed, the clothes Yoongi had borrowed from you were folded and put neatly next your clothes from last night. You put on a robe and looked around your house but there was no sign of him, maybe he had to leave for work or something, but it was Sunday morning, what could have been so important. You searched for any note he could have left but there was nothing, you checked your phone but no messages from Yoongi. You decided to message him:

Morning handsome, is everything okay?

Hours had passed but you didn’t receive a reply, the message was still on a single tick, the tick didn’t turn into a double tick, maybe he didn’t have internet you thought to yourself. You tried your best to go on about the day without worrying too much about Yoongi. It was the late afternoon, you were sat on your sofa touching the serpent necklace around your neck, not paying attention to what was playing on the TV. You were missing Yoongi, you were worried about his safety, so you just decided to call him, instead of the ringing sound you heard:

Sorry the person you are trying to reach is not currently able to accept calls.

This made you more stressed, you hoped everything was okay with Yoongi. You wanted to turn up to his house, but was that a good idea? If by 7pm he didn’t respond, then you will go to his house you thought to yourself.

7pm turned into 7:30pm, your hundreds of calls went straight to voicemail, you decided to turn up to his house.

The gates were open this time, you drove straight past them, the house was decorated with lights outside and you realised there was an outdoor party going on in his house. As far as you knew he lived by himself and not with his parents, you let out a breath of relief that Yoongi is probably safe. You weren’t exactly dressed in party clothes, you had casual trousers and shirt on, you decided to walk into the party, seeing many people around laughing and talking amongst each other. That’s when you saw Yoongi’s side, he was smiling and talking with a girl who was probably younger than you by the looks of it and more petite and feminine. As you observed he put his arm around her, a pang of jealousy hit you, you took a step forward and in that much time, Yoongi placed his lips on hers, you froze in your spot. Yoongi recognised you standing there as he kept on kissing the girl, he looked straight into your eyes, your own eyes starting to tear up. You turned around and made your way to your car, second time you’re at his house and again you’re returning in tears.

Chapter 4

[thebardisabird]

I have had this stuck in my head ever since you sent it, Anonym.  Honestly I think Osomatsu might be perfect for this, so I hope you’re okay with me using him for  this scenario. Osomatsu x A VERY stressed out GN!Reader, under the cut!

To say you felt like you were on top of the world was an understatement. Sitting in your new position as Director of Digital Marketing for the Akatsuka PR firm, you would never worry about your finances again. Your agency handled names as big as Shoei and even Nyaa Hashimoto, amongst countless other idols, influencers, and musical groups. Everything was seamless - with the new job came a new house, a new car, everything new and expensive with you ever having to worry about the price tag. Your fiancé of several years, Osomatsu, constantly exclaimed how proud he was - thought you laughed at how he too was enjoying the many perks that came with your extraordinary jump in wealth. There were parties thrown in your honor; innumerable gifts given to in celebration of your status, you honestly don’t think you’d partied the way you had that week than you ever have in your life. Unfortunately for you, that was just the thing. The business that you had worked your way up in over the years became exactly that when you were at the top - constant partying. The dinners, the late night receptions that would turn into 8 am meetings, the ridiculous amount of PR cleanups that you oversaw caused by the newer, younger generation of talent. It was a continuous effort that gave you no peace. There was no off switch for you, as you were in a ceaseless loop of making sure every line was correctly in its places, and then being dressed up and schmoozing amongst the other high-on-the-totem-pole staff when things were correct. Osomatsu was by your side through all of it, but he sensed something was wrong. He confirmed it when he had gone to the bar inside the CEO’s yacht to grab you both glasses of wine, only to come back and watch you looking over the edge of the deck, your expression reading utter exhaustion. This week in particular had been hell. The news had leaked of Nyaa Hashimoto’s retirement and a surprise pregnancy - none of which you had been informed of until after the alarmed phone calls started coming in. It took a personal call from you to clear the air with her and find out what the truth was. While you understood her plight, and obliged with her wishes to retire and lead her life as a normal woman, you knew the CEO would be furious. Nyaa Hashimoto was one of your biggest clients; the responsibility of handling the press, picking up the pieces of her fanbase that the leaked information had caused, and dealing with sponsor backlash all fell on you and your team. After your final call for the day had been made, you slammed the phone down and put your head in your hands. “I’m home!” called Osomatsu from the front door. He set down the keys to the Huracán, kicking his shoes off in the process, “The guys wanted me to meet them at the race track, hope it was okay that I put us in the skybox”. He grinned at that, knowing you wouldn’t really care, but it tickled him to know that such a luxury was within his reach these days. When you didn’t answer him, his fingers curled into a fist. Something was definitely wrong. Without hesitance, he ran to your office. The door swung open, flittering a few loose pieces of paper forward. The eldest brother took in the scene of your office with horror: awards shattered to the ground, old photos torn to shreds, there were shards of glass and metals sprinkled throughout the entirety of the room. At the center of it all was you, your head in your arms, sobbing silently to yourself. In careful steps, Osomatsu approached you, “Babe…are…are you okay? Baby, what happened?” At the sound of his voice, your tear stained face lifted. Bloodshot eyes with your hair strewn about as if you had laid that way for hours was what met his eyes. Immediately you fell into the arms of your fiancé, wailing about how this had simply become too much - because it had. You poured from an incessantly empty cup, never feeling truly fulfilled with any of the work you were doing because it did not serve you. The monetary gain was fleeting - you had everything you could want or need except the thing you required most: peace. “I don’t want to do this anymore, Oso,” your choked, teary voice sounded against his chest, “I want to go back to everything being simple…I want to live in a one story house and have neighbors who have like three dogs and I want to have a backyard with a tree where I can raise beeeeeeees” and you began another round of sobbing once more. You heard Osomatsu sigh. It made you cry harder initially because you knew that leaving this lap of luxury meant taking away all of his fun. He’d supported you when you were nobody in the company, it felt so wrong to strip him of the things you both never had for your selfish reasons. To your surprise however, he would pull from you gently, raising your chin up to look at him. His thumbs brushed underneath your eyes, swiping away the fresh tears there. “I dunno anything about bees…but if that’s what you wanna do, then let’s do it.” he said, a sympathetic smile at the forefront. Your trembling hand laid on top of his own, “But..b-but what about all of this? This is everything you’ve ever wanted in life, Osomatsu…” He leaned forward, his lips pressing ever so gently to your own. Time stood still in that moment, and your tears would start to shift in their meaning from here, “This life means nothing to me if you’re not happy. I love money, don’t get me wrong,” you didn’t miss the teasing lilt in his tone, but it quickly faded, “But I don’t think I have to tell you that I love you more than that, do I?” He took the next round of bawling as a sign that you completely understood. The next few weeks he would spend with you planning your leaving the company, choosing instead to take on a role as a consultant for lower-end talent managers, a job that allowed you your freedom at home since the time was made for you and not the other way around. Your penthouse was packed up, swapped out for a one-level home with a sizable backyard and a few friendly neighbors next door. When you finally finished sliding in the last panel, you wiped your forehead. Just behind you came the sound of feet crunching on grass. “How does it look?” your fiancé asked. You turned to see Osomatsu donning a full bee suit, beaming from beneath the veil. It brought the same smile to your own face, “Now we match!”

[petalsarefallin]

I have fallen into Miraculous hell and I simply had to write something for it. It's totally unedited and jumbled, but here it is.

The Quietest Fall Weird unedited thing

Miraculous Ladybug, Post Season 3? Weird Timing? Post Chat Blanc

One thing that was true about Marinette was that when she fell, she never did so quietly. So when falling for Adrien happened in the rain with no fanfare, she knew this feeling was different. She knew it was absolutely meant to be. And nothing would stop her. Well at least nothing would stop her one day, once she’d figured out how to tell him of her feelings. Closing her eyes, Marinette listened to the sounds of Paris, of her parents below her chatting with customers, of the way her room stayed just shy of silent with those small sounds just barely reaching her. It was a comfort as she nestled a bit deeper into her folded arms, enjoying the peace. It wasn’t often that she was given this luxury. 

Tikki flew past her head before stopping short on her mission for crumbs. She looked Marinette over before a small smile came to her face. It was high time that Marinette had a day to herself. No Adrien, no akumas, no schoolwork. Just Marinette and Tikki with no sewing projects or new creative endeavors. The kwami followed Marinette’s lead and curled up near her head, the two sharing a soft sigh of contentment. 

“Tikki? Do you ever get tired of being a kwami?”

“Huh? Why do you ask, Marinette?”

“I was just curious. I get tired of things all the time. Doing the same thing over and over gets so stressful sometimes.”

“Do you get tired of thinking about Adrien?”

Marinette moved her head to look towards Tikki and thought for a moment. For the most part, no. But then sometimes it was so frustrating to have feelings for someone who wouldn’t ever be in love with her. She had tried to put aside those thoughts, but it never seemed to work. Thinking about him sent her heart aflutter and she couldn’t help the way he made her think about her future with rose colored glasses. She wouldn’t change it for the world.

“No, I don’t think I do.” 

“I think it’s kind of like that! I like helping you and all the other Ladybugs before you!”

Marinette nodded even as her mind wandered to Adrien again. The bittersweet way it tugged at her heartstrings had her imagining a different story for once. In this daydream she was brave enough to tell him that she loved him, confident enough to make sure he didn’t misunderstand or she didn’t mince her words. 

When she told him, he accepted her feelings, but not right away. He asked to stay friends, asked to try it out. He worried about what his father would say and then listened to Marinette to be kind when he said he was scared. She always would be. He fell for her in a different way than she fell for him. And she got to watch. She watched his friendly looks turn to more, and never once did he doubt her feelings for him. She was secure and steady, the girl she really was when she had  a black and red mask on. When she was hidden from the reality of other people. 

The things she feared for in her normal life compared to her superhero life were so different, but sometimes she wished she could just be Ladybug. Ladybug was always confident enough to speak her mind. She was always ready with a plan and Chat Noir never let her forget how attractive he found her. It was something so sure and steady. She wanted to be Adrien’s Chat Noir. She wanted to be Ladybug. She wanted to be sure of herself.

Marinette blinked as if waking from a dream, finding Tikki chowing down on a macaroon as she watched some video on Marinette’s computer. It was nice like this. She was so cozy, so happy to just sit and play pretend. It was a kind of waking dream as she stood, moving to her window and opening it lazily. Paris lay before her from the window and she realized with a start that the lights around her were beginning to tick on like fireflies as the sun set. She smiled, shaking her head at herself for a moment. She had let the afternoon get away from her. Tomorrow was Sunday and she had a few things to do, but nothing that couldn’t wait a few more hours. 

Her rational side told her that was a silly thing to do. She should be doing everything early to make sure her grades didn’t slip. After all, what would happen if someone was akumatized and she needed to save them? She would miss one assignment, one thing that could trigger a huge chain reaction. Her mind flashed to Chat Blanc and she felt her heart stop for a moment. 

The memory always parlyzed her. Her memories of everything that had happened were fuzzy, surely for her own benefit, but she did remember her kitty, clothed in snow white against a clinically white sky, blue eyes begging her to love him again. All because she had made a mistake. Shaking her head, she tried to clear the thoughts ruining her good mood, but it was too late. Her kitty, heartbroken and ready to destroy everything for them to be together again. She would never doubt his love for her. 

A part of her wanted to give into him, simply fall into a star crossed love with him so she could be the Ladybug that had him at the end of that timeline. Maybe it would take her mind away from Adrien. Maybe she could imagine some sort of future for herself and him if she tried her best to push her feelings for Adrien aside. A sigh left her lips as she looked out at the darkening streets of Paris. 

No, that would never do for Chat Noir. He deserved to be someone’s first choice. And he would be some day. Chat Noir was so many girls’ dream guy. She was sure he wasn’t short of admirers. She was also sure that if she hadn’t set her sights of Adrien, he’d be pretty close to her type as well. 

Resting her head on her arms again, she looked out at Paris and sighed again. Sometimes she wished life was less complicated. It was all something she thought about often but knew would do nothing to help her really. So for tonight, she enjoyed her daydreams and imagined different futures. After all, maybe one of them really could come true.

So yeah, tell me what you think! I wanna write more for this fandom but I'm not sure what to write about. Prompts welcome!

[lancedoncrimsonwings]

hi I think I know what might be your medical issue?

Long story short I am in a server where you talked about your “mystery” dysautonomia a while back (I was looking for another comment and saw that one) and I have the exact same symptoms, tho slightly milder at their worst. I have hyperadrenic POTS, a rare subtype of POTS where bp goes UP when triggered rather than down and which is caused by an overproduction of stress hormones in the body rather than solely a lack of vein strength or fluid production. I take propranolol for it, because hyperPOTS means chronic high blood pressure and the prop also helps w the heart rate. POTS is also oftentimes comorbid with nerve issues, especially hyperPOTS, since hyperPOTS can oftentimes be caused by stuff like damage to the brain stem. A lot of docs and cardiologists don’t know abt hyperpots cus it was super rare until covid hit, and I only got my diagnosis after seeking out a specialist bc 8 doctors and 2 ER trips had everyone scratching their heads. I’d be fine then I’d stand up and my bp would hit 170/100 and my HR would be 130. I’m sorry you’re dealing with medical issues and sorry for just dropping this in your inbox but I KNOW how scary and frustrating these situations can be. Hopefully this points you in the right direction??? Idk I’m no medical professional but that sounds like what I have.

Hi Anon!

I am personally grateful you did reach out, but I do have to put a statement here that I don't want people to reach out with unsolicited medical advice, please ask if its ok first!

I am happy to openly talk about my disabilities, BUT NOT EVERY DISABLED PERSON IS.

In my case, due to medical gaslighting I have medical PTSD, and sometimes even without it when people give unsolicited advice it can feel like I'm being told I'm not trying hard enough. (In reality, I'm on the losing end of the postcode lottery with a severely underfunded NHS and no ability to go private, with doctors that do not listen or care, whilst struggling alone against these debilitating and life altering symptoms.)

I do not remotely think you are doing that, Anon, and again I'm grateful for your ask, but such is the way I have to put a disclaimer up.

With that out of the way!

I have suspected HyperPOTs for a while, sadly my doctors have no interest in exploring further, they won't do the tests, they won't test my cortisol, they won't look into it, and given they have labelled me histrionic in the past I can't risk pushing more than I have.

I have tried propranolol in the past and sadly didn't get on with it, due to comorbidities, but have general sinus tachycardia (I meet criteria for IST, as my average HR over 24hrs is 99-110, anything over 90 is considered IST but I don't have an official diagnosis of it. My HR does come down to the 70-80s when asleep, but awake its usually over 100bpm. Case in point, its currently 137 and I'm only sat at the desk at work, alone, writing this)

The diagnosed they did give me were Vasovagal syncope and I have occasional episodes of SVT. (Documented) My official Dysautonomia diagnosis (Vasovagal Syncope aside) is "disorders of autonomic nervous system". I mean. Vague and nondescript as it is, it's fairly accurate I suppose.

High cortisol would make sense, given my cPTSD, or some form of adrenal fatigue in general. I do also have MECFS, ADHD, and we suspect EDs- all VERY commonly comorbid conditions with Dysautonomia in general. If I do indeed have Ehlers Danlos syndrome, (in referral stage atm) then this could be the overall cause, connective tissue disease resulting in a general brainstem dysfunction. (Which would explain the nerve problems, the numbness, sporadic muscle weakness, the Non Epileptic Seizures, severe motion sickness, episodes mimic the signs of stroke- potentially silent migranes, etc etc etc etc...)

Causes are great to know, and I wish I had the luxury of even that, but I suppose in the end they still give me little to no hope of treatment given there isn't really any that I'm not already doing, they will never offer me anything else. So long as MS remains ruled out, I'll be happy enough to survive with the mediocrity I get from my doctors.

Hopefully I get some answers one day. I don't imagine I really will, though.

Dysautonomias are awful to deal with and I hope that yours is tolerable, Anon. May you have many low symptom days!

(Sorry if this rambling mess made no sense!)

[eurydicerue]

From the Archive: July 15, 2014

 I really wish I could go study abroad and see beautiful churches and study in the university library and experience winter in a place where it’s really cold.

I wish I could spend my days learning new things and connecting with professors, and my nights meeting new people on campus and figuring out what I want to be.

I wish I had the luxury of new books every term and being stressed out about finals.

But I can’t get any financial aid, and I don’t have any money, so instead I’m working a minimum wage job in the hopes that I might be able to take a couple classes a term at the local community college.

I want to experience being around people my age who are excited about learning and dedicated to becoming something more. The community college atmosphere just isn’t that. Everyone’s kind of embarrassed to be there. Everyone’s just trying to get somewhere else.

I have all these girls I knew in high school who have more money, and they are all going to beautiful universities and studying abroad.

One girl is going to the University of Dallas. She trekked the Camino de Santiago, a 764k journey from France to Santiago! She posted photos along the way that looked absolutely healing, like a grassy Monet.

Another girl is going to the University of Malibu, she joined a sorority and studied abroad in London. She would post pictures all bundled up in a beautiful coat next to the classic red telephone booth, or grinning with the friends she made there.

Another girl is going to the University of California Berkeley. She spent a month  in Dublin visiting cafes and leaning over miles-high bluffs, and is now going to Paris- Paris! To study there.

And another is at Boston College, making new friends and going to campus events. In the Winter, she posted pictures of the beautiful old grounds that looked like Hogwarts during Christmas.

If only! I’m struggling just to pay the bills for the little house I live in with my two sisters, ten minutes from my parent’s house, ten minutes from work. Oh! My life has such small parameters. I wish to do some adventuring, some real learning. I realize now that this ache inside me to go to a university, to learn and to be independent and travel, is something that’s been sitting there for longer than I could have known.

My reading list for this year was simply an attempt to console myself for the learning I’ve missed since I can’t afford going to school. I added texts like Anna Karenina and Ulysses in an attempt to get some classic literature in there, in an attempt to sew my own mind closer to the beautiful grounds of East coast campuses.

I wish to write, to read, to kick up leaves at the beginning of the Fall semester and cram for finals in a cramped dormitory. To study with school chums and have adventures to remember... but it feels like I’m doing next to nothing with my life. Meanwhile, my other friends got a letter from Harvard saying they noticed his high SAT scores and wanted to encourage him to look at them. I didn’t even take my SAT!

 I don’t know, guys. I’ve entered the struggle of trying to remember to water my lawn and struggling to pick up enough shifts to where I can pay my bills. Luxury to me would be nights studying in a well-financed university library, mornings reading in a cute local coffeehouse, and a classical education. I can’t imagine the luxury of having your education as you “job.” Some people are so fortunate.

---------

I wrote this in (I think?) 2014. Almost 10 years later I’m graduating from a university and have had most of these experiences (still haven’t been to Europe, but I have traveled outside of the country). I am also working in a student outreach program to provide opportunities like the above to underprivileged students (like myself). I feel so fortunate to have gotten to have these experiences after all. It took a lot of determination, and a lot of work.

[keenexpressions]

Nicho Lin

1. Name, Year, & Major

Nicho Lin, 4th Year, Economics & Statistics

2. If you were a luxury brand, what would it be and why?

If I was a luxury brand, it would be Prada. Prada produces a lot of dark or colorful, practical, and formal luxury clothing which I think fits me because I like darker colors and can be serious at times but also very light-hearted depending on the context.

3. Who is your personal hero and why?

My personal hero is ma dad. He a cool dude.

4. How do you react after a conflict occurs, and why?

I think when a conflict occurs, I will feel an initial fight-or-flight gut instinct, and try to process what is happening. I usually want to talk about things right away but if there are too many emotions I prefer to talk about the conflict in the near future once things have calmed down.

5. If you were granted 3 wishes, what would it be?

I would wish for an IRL Kirby friend, an unlimited food and water-making machine for the world, and access to a bank that restocks its vault with money once a week.

6. What would you Google about your life?

I would Google where I will be in 10 years, career and location-wise.

7. What’s your favorite thing about yourself?

hehe

8. What's your toxic trait?

I think that my toxic trait is that I can be impatient in certain situations. For example, to resolve conflict, it’s important to find a resolution the right way rather than the quickest way. However, at times I opt for the quickest way.

9. Would you visit the future or past?

I would visit the future to see how the world is progressing (or regressing).

10. What are the biggest differences between you today/now and five years ago?

Five years ago I was 17, so I was in my junior-senior years of high school. I think some advice I would give to myself would be to remember to stay humble because the world that I knew back then was much smaller than the world that I know today, and that there is strength in finding comfort and security in your own company. Throughout college I had the privilege to meet so many amazing people, and as time has passed my socialcircle has changed several times over. I would tell my old self that it is pretty common for people to come and go in life and that loving your friends doesn’t always mean that they are meant to stay close to you forever. I grew up with the same three best friends all throughout elementary school up until the end of high school, and if I told my past self that one day the four of us would reach a point where we barely talked to each other, I would’ve never believed it. Nevertheless, I think it still would’ve been an important lesson to learn back when I was 17. I would also tell my older self to truly value my time. As college students, I think we all are aware of just how busy and stressful college is, and nowadays life is pretty much a blur because of everything going on. Day in and day out is work, studying, or procrastinating (lol), and time begins to fly by before you know it. It felt like just yesterday I was a freshman in the dorm halls, but now I’m going to graduate soon and it’s bittersweet because of how much time everyone missed from the pandemic. I hope my younger self would appreciate my jaded advice, and I’m sure when I look back five years from now I’ll have a lot more to say to my current self.

[kayla209]

introductory post

◌ Hi, my name is Kayla. I was told growing up that my name was chosen due to it meaning “gift from God”; but it was most likely also influenced by my dad’s favorite soap opera character

◌ I am white, my mother is Irish while my father is German and Italian. My grandparents on my mother’s side both immigrated from Ireland and later met each other in New York. My great-grandmothers on my father’s side immigrated from Germany and Italy respectively. 

◌ If I had the chance to change my name to any fictional character’s, I would most likely choose Lyra. I would choose this name because it is the name of the female protagonist in Pokemon Heart Gold and Soul Silver. I grew up playing these games and they are very important to me as they sparked my interest in video games as a media genre. Lyra is also a cute and simple name that I personally find aesthetically pleasing. 

◌ I have not thought about my first year of high school in a while and considering it now, I definitely do not remember the first day. I can somewhat remember the first week of high school but the days have mostly blended together. The memories I have of this first week were catching up with old friends from elementary school and attempting to navigate the new environment.

◌ The last day of high school also does not stick out in my mind. I remember my graduation day but trying to remember the last day of classes does not cause me to think of anything significant. At that point in my academic career, almost all of my classes were online due to the pandemic, which may be why it does not stick out in my mind. 

◌ My favorite moments in high school were the ones I spent in my science teacher’s class as I sat next to one of my close friends. This teacher was also one of my favorites as he had a good sense of humor and taught science in an engaging way. My friend and I would often spend our lunch periods in the classroom and our teacher allowed us to use the microwave in the back room which was a great luxury at the time. I learned a lot in that class and made some good memories while there. 

◌ My least favorite moment of high school was falling out with one of my friends. This friend was originally an art classmate of mine and we become close throughout the year but he eventually expressed his romantic attraction to me which later led to our falling out. It was hard to lose a friend in this way and I wish things had worked out differently. 

◌ I don’t really think I would want to do high school all over again. However, if I could change something about that time period, I would tell my younger self not to worry so much about everything. Throughout the first half of high school, I was often stressed out over academics and meeting my potential. I wish I did not allow my fear of failure to severely affect my mental health and that I had instead focused on my strengths. 

◌ My major is liberal arts because I can not choose a major. 

◌ I am interested in many different career paths but they are somewhat all over the place which does not help with my indecisiveness. I will probably pursue becoming a sociologist, private investigator, journalist or technical writer. These career paths interest me because the subjects that they are centered around are intriguing to me. 

◌ I enjoy skiing and also work as a ski instructor which gives me the opportunity to ski often. I was interested in a variety of sports growing up and skiing was the one that has stuck with me throughout my life. I am mostly motivated by my desire to improve my skills, the enjoyment I get out of skiing and teaching others how to improve. 

◌ A favorite show of mine that I greatly recommend is Twin Peaks. It is one of the most influential television series as its surreal tone and captivating mystery are still cited as an inspiration for writers today. 

◌ One of my favorite films is The Grand Budapest Hotel as I love Wes Anderson’s directorial style. This film portrays a quite simplistic story in an extremely effective way with its unique use of colors, framing and other components. 

◌ One of my least favorite films is DC’s Black Adam. Personally, I feel that this film is the epitome of the contemporary trope-riddled superhero movie. This film was one of the most predictable I have ever seen as I was quoting things to my friend before they occurred on screen. It almost felt like it was made as a parody of the current landscape of comic book movies but it, unfortunately, was not. 

◌ I recently have been wanting to pick up sewing and made myself a pillowcase. I have a large pillow that I did not have a well-fitting case and that is what motivated me to begin sewing. 

◌ If tomorrow were my last day on the planet, I would choose chicken and waffles as my last meal. I can’t think of a particular reason why, I have just been craving chicken and waffles for about a week now.

[aboutagirl4031]

All the sudden everything has lost its color, taste, excitement. I don’t want to eat, talk or sleep. Not even the tv or music excites me. Everything I looked forward to… all these little things that keep me together, keep me going, these small things that were so important no longer exist or even existed?

I put a lot of importance on my body and life to the point where I deconstruct the way it’s gonna play out or what I’m gonna do next..am I making it a chore or is it helping? One thing s for sure, at least I have my one thing, a constant, waking up and making coffee is what makes me the happiest and at least I haven’t lost that.

I don’t feel that deep dark despair but everything is so boring to me. I don’t understand why it gets like this but I do know that it doesn’t last forever…I just wish I didn’t haft to work through it.

I don’t wanna do any thing anymore, I need a break, I need release, I need to feel human again. I don’t feel like anything these days. I go back to online shopping in hopes of feeling something but even that. My makeup? Not even new makeup excited me. It fucking sucks, daily life is too mundane to me, my body is so used to the drama, the trauma and fights. So when I’m just living and nothing happens to me I can’t stand it, yesterday and last month I even got to the point where I wanted to start a fight over something that still makes me angry. I wanted too so bad but that doesn’t solve anything. I don’t know if he feels the way I felt and sometimes I just want to see it on him..I guess that’s the point though, I never know if he really grasps or understands the pain I’ve felt..so sometimes I try to justify stressing him out and I just wish he could tell me understands.

I feel so lost and like I got it all figured out at once, I’m defrosting… it was a tough winter for me, I’ve had some really dark days and it was hard in some moments. I’m starting to see the silver lining again and I cannot wait for spring. I wish I could convey into words what it’s like to spiral and feel like complete dogshit. I wish I could explain how so badly I wanted to crawl out of my skin. My brain can be broken down into three parts.

I understand so much about myself now and I do appreciate all the shit I’ve been through so differently now, growth is painful yet so rewarding. I’m a woman who loves to hate, used to! Now I love life, I’m learning to be myself again, all those parts I hid or tried to kill off from survival mode.. from being judged, bullied or abused. I lost so many pieces of myself and had gone through high highs and low lows. As I pick up the pieces a rediscover all of my good qualities and become and different/ better version of all the old me I thank the gods I have the luxury to really sit down and take inventory of all these things that I’ve done. I was sweet but also dark. I’ve been many things but without all those pieces of me I wouldn’t be who i am today. It’s not that I want to take and repair those pieces to repeat or stay the same, but I have alot of heart and experience from those parts of me. I cannot kill myself or forget the things that have happened but I can take what got and make it new. It all can make so perfect sense sometimes. But sometimes it’s a blur, overwhelming and draining. I’ve been in therapy for 7 years now and in that time I’ve healed so much …yet I still have so much to overcome. I’m grateful to be where I am today

[tu-sugar-mami]

What if Alcina comforts you when you go through a break up:

"It's all right, dear. Let it all out..." She held you close to her chest while you sobbbed incontrolably. Your heart clenched at the memory of what happened earlier that day. Her strong arms were surrounding you, protecting you, shielding you against your demons. Her chin rested on the top of your head while her retracted claws scratched your scalp soothingly.

You regretted avoiding her all day. It wasn't your intention at first, but you just couldn't face her. Of course you couldn't run for long, and so you inevitably stumbled upon her in the hallway on your way to the library.

Alcina is a very observant person, you know that, she always notice even the smallest details, and your downcast gaze along with arrhythmic heartbeat were obviously not the exception. You tried to sweep everything under the rug, to hide your struggle and the way your heart clenched, but those piercing gorgeous golden eyes bore into your soul making it impossible to keep your walls up, and when you couldn't hold it in any longer and finally broke, when your tears and your pain finally saw light she didn't think it twice, she didn't hesitate. She held you, leaning down to your insignificant height to recieve you with open arms and an open heart.

"I did my best, Alci." You said, your hoarse voice reverberating into her throat and your tears wetting her neck. "I did my best and i wasn't enough..." Your arms circled her waist when she kneeled and brought you closer, sitting you on her lap like a crying child. She didn't even care to ruin her dress on the dirty floor.

"What happened? Who hurt you like this?" Her voice was gentle, and you didn't notice the hidden rage she held towards whoever hurt you like that.

"He dumped me. He said that—"You sniffled and your hands clutched her dress as if your life depended on it. "He said that i'm useless, just a nuisance he had to put up with all that time we were together..."

It was then when Alcina reliazed you were talking about your shitty boyfriend. The same man she felt jealous of, because he got to hold you whenever he wanted, he could cuddle with you at night every night, and above all he could kiss you as many times as he wanted while she could only fantasize about it in her dreams. God, Alcina hated that man, but seeing you happy made it impossible for her to get rid of him. And now she regretted not doing it. 'How dare that man make you cry like this?'

"Darling, here, look at me." She carefully but firmly guided your chin up, angling your head so you could look at her. The stern look on her face made her beauty even brighter. " That man does not deserve your tears." Her hand cupped your cheek, or well, half of your face, and her thumb stroked your cheek softly, soothingly, helping your sobbing subside. "That idiot will pay for telling you such things. He is a fool for letting you go, and you my lo– dear, deserve someone much better than that garbage man."

"I'm not hurt because he dumped me, Alcina." That got her attention, you almost never called her by her complete first name. "It hurts me that he's right." You wiped your tears with the back of your hand and stood up. Even kneeled Alcina was taller than you, and you couldn't hold her gaze. You turned your back to her, trying to hide the shame you felt. "It hurts me because if that insignificant bitch thinks that i'm worthless, then there's no way i'm enough for the one who i really love..."

Alcinas breath hitched. Those were news she was not aware of. Has there been someone else this whole time? But who could it be the one who stole you heart? You never mentioned anything, and to her it looked like you were happy as you were, but she clearly was reading you wrong. She felt a sting in her chest. How could she have let something like that slip past her? Had she known you were unhappy... well, she could have taken care of that.

"What do you mean... who you love?"

"It's nothing." You said too quickly to be unsuspiciouis. "I've said too much. Please, i want-- i want to be alone right now." You tried to walk away, but before you even gave a step a strong hand held onto your wrist.

"Please, tell me."

The way Alcina asked, breathless, almost a whisper, made you turn back and confront her begging expression.

"I can't. I don't want to lose you, i'll be damned if--" You sighed. "I'm not enough."

Alcina's eyes widened.

Those beautiful golden eyes always enthralled you. The first time you saw them in that god forsaken forest you thought the journey was worth it if you got to see that pretty color. But now, they just filled you with sadness and made your stomach churn with anxiety.

"Is... Is it me? Please, i need to know."

Your breath catched in your throat. You let out a whimper and the tears flowed again.

"I'm sorry... i have to go." With a hard tug you freed your wrist from her grip and made a run for the stairs without looking back to the desperate shouts of Alcina begging you to stay.

You were no longer in sight, and not even the echo of your hurried footsteps could be heard. You slipped off her hands just like a handful of sand would.

She had you for a moment, completing the other half of her damaged heart, and the next second you were running away from her only leaving her broken heart behind.

Alcina didn't even notice the tears flowing out of her own eyes, too distracted by the faint smell of your perfume that was slowly dissipating.

She had you for a second, bringing up a new world of possibilities, where her dreams would not longer be impossible, only for them to be shattered mercilessly.

Alcina could feel her lungs being constricted, as if something were crushing her on the inside. Her eyes stung. Her heart hammered in her chest.

She had you... and then she lost you.

She hadn't alowwed herself to love for many, many years. She had prived herself from feeling any form of affection and caring that were not for her daughters and yet, her walls crumbled in a matter of days when she met you. She denied at first, tried to push you away but you, insufferable little thing, charmed your way into her heart and when she least expected it she was swooning at the sight of you eating whole turkey voraciously.

Was it worth it? The pain in her chest, the dissapointment, the stress? Well, she already knew the answer.

Kneeled on the library hallway Alcina made a decision.

Alcina stood up in a blink and did what she had not done in a very long time. She ran. Ran and ran as fast as her legs could carry her, down the stairs where you had run too.

She hoped it wasn't too late, she wished she hadn't taken that long to act, and she yearned to have you back in her arms.

The high heels were slowing her down, and she didn't hesitate to take them off while she ran, stumbling a bit but keeping the pace. She didn't care if it was not proper of a lady to run barefoot around the castle, hoisting her dress up in an attempt to cover more ground, you were more important than any propriety.

It's a good thing to have really long legs when your'e chasing someone, and even though Alcina was very out of breath she managed to reach you just in time as you were opening the front door.

"Wait!" She yelled, and you snapped your neck back to face her. The sight made your heart flutter and screech in pain at the same time. Alcina had gotten rid of her shoes, a good part of the skirt of her dress was strongly clutched under her arm. Her make up was smudged and you could tell she was sweating, something you had never seen her do. Her hair was ruffled and her hat was gone.

"Alcina..."

You tried to run again but Alcina was already running down the stairs and you didn't go too far outside before she clashed with you, her front to your back, circling your body with her arms while you both fell to the snowy ground.

"Wait! Please, please wait." Her ragged breath felt hot against the nape of your neck. Your glossy eyes made it hard for you to see, but you could feel her lips on your skin. "Don't go. Don't leave me. I--" She swallowed before speaking again. "Oh god, dear, i love you. Don't you understand?"

You let out a short, shaky breath. Did she really tell you that? you wonder.

"You... what?"

"You heard me. I love you." Alcina held you tighter, impossibly closer to her, and in her arms the horrible cold from the outside didn't faze you. "I love you, i love you, i love you. I'll tell you as many times as you need. I love you, please stay with me."

"You mean it?" Your voice was shaky, your breath was ragged from all the running, and your heart matched Alcina's own. "You really mean it?" You turned in her embrace, enough to face her, and she held you face with her hand. it was an awkard position, but there was nowhere else you wanted to be.

"I mean it..." And as she was teached that actions speak better than words, she leaned in to kiss you, capturing your lips with her own. You turned completely and wasted no time before kissing her again. And again and again.

"I loved you first." You said, letting out a wet giggle, all that crying really did a number on you. You tenderly tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, your touch lingering for a bit. "And if you let me, i'll love you until the end."

"I would like nothing more..." And she kissed you again, hungrily this time and you of course kissed back. "Also, i'll kill your ex. Life is a luxury your little bitch of ex-partner doesn't deserve."

"Alci no!"

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

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[lexiasmind]

The Compromise. I

PAIRING.

Dark!CEO!Steve Rogers x Reader.

SUMMARY.

Wealthy CEO, Steve Rogers is a businessman before everything. All he ever wanted is to be the best, richest and smartest, owning all the finest companies. His priority: be better in affairs than his father.

But when a huge opportunity is offered to him, Steve would do anything in his power to seize it. And he’s ready to make a sweet and dangerous deal with you. Even though you are not willing to make a compromise with him.

A/N.

Political Relationship/Marriage? AU. Dark AU.

This is DARK. ANGST (i’m sorry) & SMUT (explicit sexual content) +18. Breeding Kink - sort of... Non-Con & Dub-Con. Mentions of Political Marriage. Mentions of Relationship/Marriage of Convenience. Swearing.

Here it is. One of my favorite story. Hopefully you will enjoyed it too. As always, thank you very much for reading! Don’t hesitate to leave your thoughts, comments, and feedback. (sorry for the layout at then, bugs from Tumblr)

A lots of Love! Lex!xxx

P.S: Gif is not mine, credits to the owner and maker.

WORDS.2942ish.

°°°

Being the assistant of the wealthy, arrogant, sexy Steve Rogers has its perks. Your income was very high so you could buy anything you ever wanted. You could use his name anytime you wished to impress your relatives, or friends when they were visiting you for booking the best tables in the greatest and luxurious restaurants in Manhattan. And, one of the greatest benefits of them all was that you could have the best sex you ever had with this gorgeous man. It was one of his “arrangements“ with you. Every once in a while, Steve Rogers, solemn and clever, needed a release from his stressful business life. He was the one who decided the when and where without any confirmation on your part. He just scheduled the meeting in your daily calendar like it was one of his business luncheon. And you showed up.

That’s why, on this Saturday evening you were, naked, sweaty, and panting hard under his muscular chest. Steve was thrusting into you, again and again, hitting the soft delicious spot inside your pussy. You clenched his thick cock once, biting your lips watching him grunted.

“ Baby! “ Steve moaned, still moving above you. He descended one hand caressing your skin stopping between your thighs. The blond man started to stroke your clit with his fingers, urgently. “ Come for me. ” He whispered his red mouth still wet from your previous orgasm. “ Come all around me.“

The bed was creaking with your movement in his darkroom. You were pressed into the mattress, feeling your climax coming once again deep inside your core. Steve pushed harder inside of you, feeling you were almost there. You grazed his smooth back with your nails arching your back as you reached your peak, deliciously hot and blissful. You whimpered, squeezing him hard. Steve swore under his breath, putting his head into the crook of your neck, he came in a low and deep groan, his hips jerking at each spasm, his cock throbbing inside of you. You breathed hard under him, softly kissing his shoulder. Your eyelids were heavy from tiredness but you felt euphoric. His hot breath was fanning your neck, his sweaty chest was against your naked breast. Steve swallowed as he braced himself from you, one hand next to your head the other stroking softly your clit making you shiver. He took himself out, looking at you, he frowned, concentrating.

“ Did you send the fiscal papers to the Financial Department? “ He asked a bit out of breath. His head was clear and turned into business mode.  

You nodded once. You didn't know how after all of the sex, he could still think about work.

“ And did you send the e-mail to Stark? The one with the new numbers? “ He continued his voice hoarse.

You nodded again, confused. Because his voice was CEOish but his hand on your stomach was gentle.

“ Good. “ Steve replied.

He licked his lips humming his approval as he tasted your sweet juice on his tongue. He smirked seeing your eyes darkened from the sight closely watching him, but he pushed his body away from you and get up on the steady ground of his bedroom’s floor. He started to walked toward his bathroom, naked like the day he was born.

“ Monday I have a meeting with Wilson & Barnes, don’t forget to buy the beverage, Miss Smith. “ He informed you, his back, turned to you. You could saw the long scratch of your nails on his skin.  

You sighed, watching him closed the door of the bathroom. It was back to Miss Smith again. It wasn’t your last name, but Steve Rogers wasn’t the greatest of the boss. And if he used this name it meant that your night together was over and it was the time for you to go home. It was your deal between the two of you since you started to work at Rogers Inc. You were the best assistant ever, he was a jerk and arrogant boss, and sometimes the two of you will meet, preferably in his apartment, and had sex. Just wild and sensual sex, with no feeling and attachment. For him for sure. But for you, it was difficult each day to fool you that you haven’t any feelings, for him. You were lost, one part of you liked the tender man, he was sometimes. And another part of you was scared of how harsh, brutal, and dark he could be when he wanted something.

°°°

“ I heard Rumlow is on the market again, trying to buy Stark Industries. “ James Buchanan Barnes stated, smiling behind his hand, watching his best friend getting angrier at the information. “ Even though he filed for bankruptcy last year, the word in the street is that a private investor gave him the money to buy one of the biggest companies in the world.” “ I don’t believe this lie, Buck’. “ Steve told him completely annoyed that his oldest rival/enemy was back in the game. “ I am the one who will buy Stark’s company. Tony trusts me. “ He continued, turning his chair back to the men to watch the biggest and tallest skyscrapers of New York City through the huge windows of his office. “ The only thing Tony trusts, my man, “ Sam smiled, raising himself from the white couch buttoning his jacket. “ Is money. “ He finally revealed, pointing at the glass door at his associate, he left the room a grin on his lips.

It was barely 10 a.m and Steve Rogers was already mad. The week had just begun.

“ Contact your father, Steve. I’m sure he will have a solution.“ Bucky raised himself from his seat his eyes following Sam leaning against the main desk in the waiting area. The dark-haired man sighed frowning at his colleague who was currently flirting with Steve’s assistant. The CEO couldn’t see them but he could hear them giggling in the lobby. His irritation was going up reaching a new level of anger. “ My father will blackmail me or worse bully me into something I don’t want to, for me to get the money. ” Steve replied without turning his back from the beautiful skyline of the city. “ Yes. “ Bucky admitted walking toward the door. “ But, in the end, you would possess the most important industrial firm in the world. “ He explained, his eyes watching the head of his friend, over his shoulder. He shook his head, before leaving the office closing the door behind him.

Steve knew that Bucky was right. He had to ask his father for the money or he could say goodbye to one of his biggest dream for his career: merging Stark company with his own. He turned around, turning his computer on to make a deal with the devil. Without turning his head from the screen, Steve hit one button on his telephone.

“ Miss Smith, I need you for a moment. “ He talks directly to the interphone set on the device and pushed his finger away.

You entered the office, less than a minute later. A pen and a notepad in your hand already ready to write his orders. He didn’t acknowledge you, still taping on the flat and white keyboard. A couple of minutes later, Steve finished his e-mail. He pressed send then he raised himself from his chair, tucking his tie and buttoning his expensive jacket. He walked around his desk finally looking at you. You had waited for him for the exactitude of two minutes and thirty seconds, but it wasn’t the first time he was a complete asshole to you. It won’t be the last time either.

" Follow me to the Financial Department, I need to know the exact numbers we could pull out for Stark Industries. " He informed you, still walking. " What ordered do I make to the kitchen for your lunch, sir? " You asked, nodding but also preparing your pen to write his answer. " Nothing. I’m going out for lunch and will remain out for the most part of this afternoon too.” He informed you, as he stopped in front of your frame. “Cancelled my appointments.”

You paused for a nanosecond at the new information settle in before putting your pen and small notepad in your skirt pocket. Steve was about to walk around you but he suddenly took your wrist into a firm grip in his hand. His eyes were darker and full of promising threats. You gasped surprised by his sudden movement. And then you felt it, the burning feeling from his tight hold, you winced under his angry face. He pulled on your wrist making you collided into his chest, with his other hand he raised your head, one finger under your chin. Your eyes met his cold blue one.

" It’s the first and last time I hear you flirting with one of my friends, sweetheart. Do you understand? " He asked his voice grave and low, his lips barely moving.

You nodded biting your lips under his glare. Steve leaned his mouth to yours, put a simple kiss on your lips. One. Tender. Then, he released you from his grip, stepping beside you to open the door. You let a quiet gasp escape your lips as you stroked the tender flesh of your wrist.

" Let’s go, Miss Smith, we haven’t all day. " He cried out without turning around, striding into the lobby toward the elevator.

Confused you followed him, tears in your eyes. You paused next to him, waiting for the elevator. Discomfort growing inside your chore.

" Miss Smith, you will do a quick reckon on Mr. Brock Rumlow while I’m away. I need to know everything. From the professors he had in preschool to the girls he's currently banging. " Steve commanded you as the metal doors open up in front of you. " Yes, sir. " You sniffed, quickly wiping away a tear from your cheek taking your small notepad and pen from your pocket you took notes.

Steve step inside. You followed him but pushed yourself at the back in one of the four corners, putting as much distance as possible between the two of you, making yourself small. The elevator closed the doors and start his descent to the floors below. Steve turned around his back to you. " Stop crying, baby. You know how much it makes me hard. " Steve said to you, his voice low. He took his phone from inside his jacket and started scrolling "And, I don’t have the time to fuck you, right now. “

With a trembling hand, you wiped away the remaining tears on your skin. You bite your lips your sighted set on his long fingers tapping the screen. Sometimes Steve Rogers could be much worse than a simple asshole. He could be frightening.

°°°

It  turned out to be a horrible and awful Monday as the day goes on and on. Steve was angry at everything. Pushing the bag, harder with his fists, he didn’t hear you walk into the gym room of the building. The night had felt in New York City, and almost every employee had returned home. Except you. You couldn’t leave until he did. Steve was wearing his sports clothes, a white t-shirt with sweat pants. His forehead and face were coated in sweat. He had returned to the office two hours ago without telling you anything. He just took his gym bag and went straight to this room. The space was large and clear with numerous sports machines. You leaned your side against the wall, a big folder in your hands.

Finally, Steve stopped hitting the punching ball. Panting, he put his hair away from his eyes.

" Did you finished what I asked you about Rumlow? " Steve asked, starting to take away the white bandage from his hand.                                                        " Yes. " You answered, clearing your voice. " I searched and classified every single information I could find on him. " You waved the folder to him. " From birth to present day. "

But Steve didn’t look at you. His thought turned on what his father had told him over their lunch earlier. “ Find a sweet wife, and makes an heir. I don’t want to see my name tainted and ending with you. “ Sweet words. His father was the worst but he had accepted to give him enough money to gather with what his financial team could bring from his company. It would be more than enough to beat Brock and buy Stark Industries but he still had to look for a wife and make a damn baby. He wasn’t the romantic kind of guy. Steve didn’t believe in love and all the other bullshit the media was brainwashing the world with. He loved sex and was pretty damn good at it. But what drove him was to grow his business and be the best. To be better than his father. And he was one step away from it and nobody or anyone will stop him.

" That’s great, Miss Smith. " He nodded taking the last bit of the bandage from his left hand before taking off the bandage from the right one. " Will you marry me, Y/N? " Steve asked not once raising his head from his fingers.

You froze feeling that you haven’t heard him well. You frowned taken aback by the words that came out of his mouth. You didn’t know if you should be more shocked at him for using your real name in three years or by his proposal. You swallowed hard waiting for him to laugh at you. And announced that all of it was a joke. A bad joke. Steve finally turned his blue sight toward you, raising an eyebrow, waiting for a reply.

" Well? " He asked impatiently, finishing with his bandage.                                    " Oh, you are serious! " You exclaimed your mouth wide open, and almost dropping the huge folder on the floor.                                                                                         " Of course, I’m serious. " Steve replied annoyed throwing his stuff in his large sports bag.

Surprise, you dropped your gaze on the ground. Marriage? Marriage was such a big thing, celebrating and vowing in front of your friends and family to love each other for the rest of your life until death comes to break us apart. For you, it was something to do when you were in love but it wasn’t what Steve had in mind.

" You are great at your job, sexy and I like to have sex with you. " He enumerated looking at you and putting his hands on his hips. " I’m not taking no for an answer. So when we should get married, the sooner the better. " He continued his face dead serious looking at you.

You were so confused and baffled by all this, looking at him like a second head had grown on his neck. What the fuck was happening? You shook your head, making a step back to the door. He was insane. Seeing you moving back, Steve took two long strides to reach you before you could escape from him. Extracting the folder from your hold, he threw it across the gym room, papers flying around felt on the ground. Steve put his hands on both of your cheeks. He raised your head pulling it closer to his own. Scared, you look at his eyes. The word dangerous flashing around your mind.

" I told you, I won’t take no for answer. " He murmured his lips brushing yours. "When we will get married I will offer you everything that you desire. I’m filthy rich it’s almost indecent, sweetheart. You will have everything and more." He explained to you stroking your cheek, his dark eyes looking at your teary and fearful one. " A house, cars, clothes anything you want. All I asked in return is a couple of kids. " Steve whispered low against your lips. He brushed his hard-on in his pants against your lower stomach emphasizing his thought. " It will be your kids, I will send them to the best schools, they will have everything they want." He dry-humped your stomach, wiping a few tears on your cheeks with his thumbs, excited watching you frightened. 

Steve was certainly insane selling this dream life to you. You needed to think alone, away from his pushy behavior. Closing your eyes, you tried to shrink away from his grasps but he was holding you tightly. You opened your eyes more tears falling on your cheeks, scared you shook your head once again.

" I-I… " You stuttered, choking a sob as you watched him smirked in front of you.                                                                                                                                     " I told you, baby. I won’t take no for an answer. " He said quietly and pressed a kiss on your lips. He took one of your trembling hands from your side, pulled on it, and guided it inside his sweat pants and underwear. You gasped breaking away from him. You felt his hand forcing yours to pump his thick cock in his clothing. " I already told you, seeing you cried makes me horny, baby. " He mumbled in a low voice. " Horny and hard, just for you. " Steve reminded you, groaning at your touch.

He put his forehead against yours, feeling your hand all around him. He guided you to stroke him as he liked you too. You whimpered sobbing, not knowing what to do. Watching the tears falling on your cheeks, his cock throbbed inside of both of your hands. He darkly smiled at you before putting his lips on yours, pushing his tongue inside your mouth.

You will be his perfect little wife.

°°°

Two. Thee. Four. Five.

[tiredcowpoke]

TITLE: Blank Spots [28] PAIRING: (Somewhat pre-established) Arthur Morgan/Fem!Reader, could be seen as an OC. REQUEST: Unprompted. BLURB: After waking up at the base of a steep incline and nearly freezing to death, you stumble upon a group of strangers who swear up and down that they know you. WARNINGS: Angst, relationship tension.  NOTE: I’m sorry for the wait on this chapter! My motivation to write drifted elsewhere. However, after returning to this half-written chapter, I found myself wanting to finish it off and continue this story arc. So, here we are. I tried to handle something in this that I don’t see a lot of fics doing so I hope it comes across well. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy. TAG LIST: @on-my-way-to-erebor / @otherthingstoreid @ireallyhonestlydontcare @elanisha @darlingsdevil @cirillamylove @bunnyreese12 @rollyjogerjones @callmemythicalminx @r4reland @itsnothingwithoutchaos

As much as you wanted to enjoy the luxurious bed and to be on your own for a bit, you just couldn’t.

You spent the first night tossing and turning, running over the events of the last several weeks. A series of highs and lows would be an understatement, but now? Well, you knew you had caused some tension and it was hard to shake the feeling of some impending doom. You weren’t the only one, though. As much as you didn’t want to dig into things that you had no business knowing, you knew from the exhausted looks from certain people around camp that something was pressing down.

Now, there was this whole thing.

You wished it could have been handled in a less…explosive way, but you knew it had to come out eventually. When you told Arthur about the mountain and Micah, you hadn’t been expecting him to take off immediately to confront him over it. Yet, you knew Arthur had a right to know. You also just wanted to tell someone who would believe you. As much as things hadn’t exactly gone an ideal way, you could admit that having that information out in the open did lift a bit of a weight off your shoulders.

Yet, you also knew this situation was far from over. Dutch may not believe there is enough evidence to do anything, or he may just believe Micah since you aren’t close, but you knew this would be somewhat divisive.

It still put a frustrating tug-of-war in your head: you were tired of sitting on what you knew, yet you also didn’t want to make things worse at camp.

You couldn’t have both.

So, naturally, that exhausting back and forth had robbed you of a stress free night when you arrived in Saint Denis. Still, you wanted to do some things. Visit the fence in the city and look into the stables to see if you had enough to get your own horse. You didn’t want to spiral into your own head the whole time.

Thankfully, the Bastille was relatively quiet at the current time of day as you headed toward the front doors and out onto the streets. Of course, those were busy, as you had expected of cities. Dust, voices, the noise and smell of horses, a part of you could understand Arthur’s distaste of the city. Still, you found yourself wandering a ways, taking in the sights and some of the shops. It wouldn’t hurt to have your ear to the ground, considering this was likely the city the gang were going to be working out of for the next while.

Though, you came to a stop at the end of one of the streets, glancing around yourself. You might need some direction to get to the market in town again, but you caught onto a call from across the street.

“Arthur!”

Instantly, a part of you knew you shouldn’t be watching this, yet it still had you rooted to the spot. Before a part of you could convince yourself that it wasn’t what you thought–sure enough, the same Arthur you were thinking of stepped out into sight. A few pedestrians watched on curiously from behind him, and you watched from the street corner to confirm that it was indeed Mary he was seeing.

“You came!” she exclaimed, the touch of excitement and relief in her tone not hard to miss, even in the noise of the street.

“Yeah, I came,” Arthur replied, sounding like he was holding back an equally disbelieving and relieved laugh, “What d’ya need?”

“Stay right there,” Mary continued, “I am coming straight down.”

And you were getting the hell out of there.

As Mary moved back toward the door behind her, you turned and started to walk back the way you came. You were aware of people passing by you, and your steps were even and quick. Yet, your mind was starting to race. Arthur hadn’t sworn off seeing Mary–from the conversations you two had about it, it sounded like a complicated situation. Yet, you certainly weren’t ready to see it with your own eyes. Honestly, you weren’t sure if you ever wanted to, yet it seemed like you didn’t have a choice in the matter. There was another thought that cropped up, one that you knew was entirely selfish.

He’ll make time for her but can’t bother to see me after everything?

With that thought, you were grateful that the Bastille was coming into sight. You made your way through the busy street and somewhat bustling saloon, heading up toward that same luxurious room that now seemed all too empty and oppressive. When the door shut softly behind you, you just stood there for a few moments as your mind still seemed to jump from topic to topic.

All this time, was it worth it if Arthur’s relationship with Mary remained unaddressed? If there was a point if he would drop everything? They had a past, a deep one if marriage was involved. While they had separated, it was clear by the tone of their voices that they both remembered it. Yet, you? You just had bits and pieces. Your relationship wasn’t the same as the one Arthur had with Mary–not before the mountain and certainly not after.

The mountain–had to ruin everything. For a moment, you thought about that morning in Strawberry when you told Arthur what you knew. The night you two had before it. Had that been a mistake? At the time, you hadn’t thought so, but now–

You let out a groan as you sat down on the edge of the bed, clamping a hand over your mouth as you felt your hand and shoulders shake with the will to keep the sobs back. You certainly had plenty of things to sob over, and despite the mix of emotions that sat in you, the wetness gathering on your cheeks and along the top of your fingers over your mouth told you that it was useless trying to hold back.

Muffled against your hand, you screwed your eyes shut as you let out a few low sobs. The stress of everything was making you nauseous and finally letting some of it out was lifting something from your shoulders. You were angry, you were sad, you were guilty–yet, you were surprised when an almost calming determination settled over you. After a few more minutes, you dropped your hand from your mouth, sniffling somewhat as you let out a shaky breath.

You wanted to do something.

As much as a part of you wanted to fling your anger and stress at anybody that seemed fitting, you knew Mary couldn’t be blamed if Arthur hadn’t ever told her about you. Really, you would have a hell of a couple things to say to him if he arrived at your door then, but you knew that was unlikely.

You didn’t want to think about what they were talking about, or doing, but you knew you had to do something. You were tired of waiting around, sitting on things and letting someone else resolve them.

With a small nod, you stood with a sigh.

You were going to eat something, give them the time they wanted, then you were going to talk with Mary.

                                                               ***

The more you stayed in Saint Denis, the more out of place you felt.

It was a strange feeling, considering you didn’t know if you had a proper answer if someone asked you where you felt you belonged. Though, you supposed it at least wasn’t Saint Denis. The evening was just as busy in the inner city as the day was, though the familiar route you took earlier that day didn’t feel as exploratory as you walked it currently. Your gut was twisting with tension, a part of you not sure how you were feeling at the moment.

If you should address this with the anger you felt in your gut or not. You knew deep down that it would get you nowhere, and…well, you couldn’t pull a reason to blame Mary outright for what happened. You couldn’t blame her for just existing. It wasn’t her fault that her relationship with Arthur was something neither of you fully addressed between each other–at least, in a way where it felt like things were resolved.

In a way, you also couldn’t blame Arthur either. You knew you could have addressed this at some point in more depth, but you never wanted to push him. Maybe you should’ve.

As you approached the doors of the hotel Mary was staying at, you willed the circling thoughts aside for the time being as you stepped inside the lobby. It was quiet, somewhat empty as the evening was settling. A man at the front lobby looked at you curiously, giving you a small smile as you approached.

“May I help you?” he asked, a touch of a French accent that you had been getting used to hearing around the city.

“Would you know if a…Mary Linton is in at the moment?”

“Yes, I believe Miss Linton arrived back in her room a while ago. Do you have a reason for a visit?”

“I’m a…friend of a friend,” you said, shifting somewhat uncomfortably–feeling very out of place, but your determination to do this kept you where you stood, “I wondered if she would be able to talk?”

“Well, I can not just send you to her room, but I can send someone up to see if she would be willing to come down to chat with you. If you would sit…?”

“Of course,” you replied with a nod, moving to go sit down at a small set of chairs between a table with a plant on it.

Your nerves were starting to eat you alive, in all honesty. The anger had subsided, or at least was buried under the anxiety that was cropping up. However, you were hungry for some answers. Some insight, perhaps. This was crossing a line and you knew it. Which is why you knew you would be completely fine if she rejected the idea of talking with you. Yet, it had to be better than just letting everything pile up in your head–you knew you had only seen them exchange a small set of words before you turned and left. There was plenty you could be reading into wrong.

Still, you were surprised when the man from before told you that she would be down momentarily. You gave him a wordless nod, sucking on the side of your cheek as you tried not to spiral before you got to have any sort of conversation with her. Though, it didn’t help that it felt like minutes were dragging out like hours as you sat in the lobby.

Finally, you spotted Mary approaching from a set of stairs, her expression even but you could see the somewhat confused pinch to her brows as you stood to greet her.

“Miss Linton?” you asked.

“Yes,” she confirmed, pausing as you introduced yourself with a small nod.

Surprisingly, some recognition crossed her expression at hearing you give your name. While she made no move to bridge anything between you that was anything other than distant politeness, she did let out a somewhat awkward huff.

“We really do have a mutual friend in this city,” she remarked, “I have to be honest, I never would have expected to even meet you.”

“Well…” you started, watching as Mary took a somewhat cautionary glance toward the man that had greeted you.

“Would you mind having this conversation in private?” she asked, glancing back toward you. “There is this lovely little sitting room to your left, if you wouldn’t mind…”

“Sure,” you replied, stepping aside to let Mary lead you toward the room she mentioned.

Indeed, it was a lovely little room. Cozy with a small table and an open window, decorated by plants. It was…very different from the place you were staying at. You were starting to understand that while the Bastille was the nicest saloon in the city, it was still very much a saloon. Still, you kept the comments to yourself as you sat yourself down opposite of Mary.

An awkward silence followed–she seemed calm, yet you could tell there was an underlying nervousness to her. You were almost confused by that, considering you were expecting…you didn’t know. Perhaps some hostility. Something that would justify the tumbling nature of your thoughts over the last several hours.

“When…” Mary began, shifting somewhat in her seat, “When Arthur came to see me today, I had been surprised to hear that he was with someone.”

“He told you about me?” you asked, tilting your head somewhat.

“Yes,” Mary replied with a small nod, “I could tell he was…conflicted, but he was rather outright about that.”

You honestly hadn’t expected that–perhaps you just wanted a reason to justify being hurt. Well, regardless, this whole thing did hurt. The ‘conflicted’ comment sat with you, though, making you tap your fingers against your leg somewhat in thought. Still, that was something to think about later.

“I hadn’t intended to,” you replied, glancing toward her once again, “but I saw you two earlier. I had…let my emotions drive my thoughts about that. Yet, I suppose…I wanted to know if he…if you knew…”

“If I may be blunt,” Mary started, pausing as you nodded for her to continue, “Arthur has always lived with one foot in two worlds. There is a man in there, one I wanted to settle with ‘fore…well. If you know who I am, I am sure you know about all that. Yet…there’s also the outlaw that I am sure you are familiar with. Yet…you do not seem part of that world, either.”

“I don’t?”

“Your manner of dress, perhaps, but your temperament? No.”

“All I have known of him, and of myself, is that…outlaw world. I may not be all that involved, but it is a life I am familiar with.”

“Indeed,” Mary replied, “However, if you were so deep into that world, I figured this conversation would have been a lot more…harsh.”

“I am just…looking for some answers.”

“Well, I don’t know what ones I can give, but I agreed to talk,” Mary said, folding her hands in her lap.

You regarded her for a few moments, letting out a slow exhale through your nose. Admittedly, you had come here holding some vitriol in your gut, but you could feel that dissipating. If anything, you felt resigned to your decision to go this route and just wanted to know.

“You contacting Arthur…are they attempts to get him to leave with you?”

“No,” Mary replied, “Not…not entirely. That shameful affair…I knew I should have asked someone else for help, but…well, I felt I had no other option. Yet…I loved him. I had wanted to marry him once, that was not a lie. However, I only learned about you today. So…you will have to forgive me for gettin’ my hopes up.”

“I don’t blame you for that,” you replied, biting slightly at the inside of your cheek for a moment as you lowered your gaze to the table top in thought. “That explains a lot, actually.”

“I hope…” Mary started, pausing a moment, “It…pains me to know of your relationship as I am sure it pained you to see what you did. Yet…I hope you are not walkin’ into a situation I did.”

“There is a lot happening,” you replied with a somewhat humorous huff, “I am in plenty of situations already.”

“I’m sure,” Mary replied, her tone somewhat light but hadn’t dropped her seriousness, “Yet, that’s not what I mean. With Arthur…his life…it can’t go on forever. You don’t seem made for it, as I weren’t. Yet, Arthur…I just hope you don’t get caught waitin’ on someone who won’t lift his foot from one side or the other.”

“I…I appreciate the advice, Miss Linton, but I think you’ve answered all that I came here for,” you replied, a part of you not wanting to hear this and yet, despite the defensive tone, you remained under her gaze.

She looked almost sympathetic, yet her next question was very pointed.

“Are you in love with him?”

Of course, you wanted to answer. Why would I go to these lengths? Yet, the words tangled in your tongue, your mouth struggling to open. To formulate the sentence. Did you? You had feelings for him, yes. You both had acknowledged that and knew it was more than just friendship. Yet, was it the same as Mary? Was it that deep? You…you didn’t like this. You didn’t like being under her stare, like she knew something about you.

“Thank you for talking with me,” you stated, standing, “but I should be going now. Have a good night.”

Mary didn’t call after you or try to correct her questioning, which only hammered the conversation into you. It left you with more questions than you came in with–and new ones about yourself that you didn’t want to contend with. Upon stepping back outside, having to step back in time to avoid getting run over by a carriage in your distraction, you let out a shaky sigh as you shut your eyes for a few moments.

…You needed to get back to the saloon. You needed a drink.

[rocorambles]

Meeting in the Middle

Pairing: Sakusa x reader

Genre/Warnings: NSFW, Yandere, Misogyny, Controlling Behavior, Degradation, Non-Con/Rape, Spanking

Summary: Sakusa shows you that he’s more than capable of meeting you in the middle and listening to you for a change. But be careful of what you ask for.

A/N: This is for the Poly Wives Angst Collab~ RIP us and our never ending collabs we create for ourselves.

If someone had told you five years ago that you’d be dating one of Japan’s most eligible bachelors, a professional athlete fawned over by media and fans nation-wide, the epitome of the strong and silent type, you would have laughed in their faces. What is this? Some silly fairytale? The childish checklist of “things I want in a boyfriend” you’d written in middle school?

But life has a funny way of working and you find yourself in an obnoxiously lavish and rowdy nightclub, made only more crazy by the surprising appearance of some VIPs.

It seems like volleyball has somehow become Japan’s national sport overnight and although you aren’t necessarily the biggest follower of anything remotely athletic, even you know exactly who the rambunctious trio catching everyone’s eyes are.

You can’t deny there’s more than just a bit of appeal in the way their button up shirts cling to toned muscles, but you’ve never been one for crowds and you stray to the emptier corners of the establishment to avoid being swept by the crowd of excited fans. But when Atsumu cheesily winks and flirts as he signs scandalously bared skin of female fans, you mockingly gag, only to whirl in embarrassment when you hear an amused snort from behind you.

“Not a fan of Miya Atsumu?”

Staring wide-eyed and slack jawed when someone asks you a question is very rude and you want to answer. But you don’t trust yourself with basic human speech when Sakusa Kiyoomi is staring at you expectantly. So you shake your head side to side instead, heat rising to your face at the small upward curve of his lips.

“Neither am I.”

Atsumu never lets the two of you live down how he’s the one who technically brought you together, even if it was at the cost of his pride. (You chuckle when you remember his loud squawking when Sakusa recounts the dialogue exchanged at your first meeting.) But even months later, even after Sakusa has officially introduced you to the rest of the MSBY team, even after they’ve accepted you as part of their cozy and rowdy family, you can’t stop feeling impostor syndrome.

Dating Sakusa still feels unreal and you can’t help but feel like you’re living someone else’s life, stuck in a rose-tinted dream, playing dress-up and make believe as you parade around in clothing far more luxurious than you’re used to, whisked around on your lover’s strong arm as you follow him around the world from match to match. And as lovely as it is, you long to truly make this relationship your own, to feel the rawness and grittiness of love and life, to experience the charm and comfort of being true to yourself and knowing Sakusa loves you just as you are.

But your desire to be with him, to call him your own trumps your own wishes and you find yourself quickly backing down everytime you suggest something that he’s quick to turn down, desperate to appease and please him even at the price of your own desires.

He’s never outrightly rude about his preferences, never raises his voice. But somehow that makes the judgement and disdain in his dark eyes that much more apparent. You remember a rough day of work you had, the relief you had felt about being able to swiftly swap your constrictive work apparel for a pair of worn-in shorts and a baggy t-shirt. Your outfit would certainly not win any fashion awards, but you blissfully sigh at how comfortable you are as you call a local pizza shop, ordering delivery self-indulgently.

You could feel yourself becoming one with the couch you’re lounging on, the television playing in the background. But even in the hazy in-between of sleep and alertness, your eyes snap open when the door opens and you lazily smile as your boyfriend enters your shared apartment, returning from another grueling practice.

“You look like you’ve had better days.”

Your smile slips, anxiety flooding through you as you self-consciously curl in on yourself while his lips purse, eyes scrutinizing your sloppy appearance.

“Umm, yeah...tough day at work-”

“Maybe you should freshen up with me. You might feel better in a...real outfit.”

You know better than to think that it’s really a suggestion, cursing yourself, humiliation coursing through you when you think of how foolish you were to get so comfortable so quickly. You’ve seen the caliber of the women who lust over your boyfriend unabashedly despite his long-time relationship with you. You need to try harder. You need to be better.

Self-deprecation rips you to shreds as you painstakingly groom yourself, donning a dress you know Sakusa loves, applying a full face of makeup and a spritz of his favorite scent. And despite how exhausted you are, how much you’d rather be slumped on the couch, gorging on a slice of pizza, it’s all worth it when you see the appreciative look in his gaze as his eyes rake over your figure.

But worry gnaws at you once more as the doorbell rings and his eyebrow raises questioningly at the interruption. It’s a painful walk of shame as you plaster on a fake smile, tipping the delivery boy, the usually tantalizing smell of cheese and grease only making you nauseous as you bring the box to the dining table.

“What is that?”

“Dinner…”

Your voice trails off and you feel so small, so pathetic as Sakusa’s face borders disgust as he observes the offensive item.

“You didn’t cook?”

The disappointment in his voice has you spewing excuses and apologies, your heart shattering when he merely waves off your ramble, telling you he’d order a salad from elsewhere and to enjoy your meal.

You never order pizza again and a steaming hot plate of freshly cooked food is always waiting for Sakusa when he returns home while you patiently wait for him with a painted face and impeccable outfits.

Your friends and family tell you how grateful you should be, how envious they are as they oggle your latest high-end designer pieces, cooing over how picture perfect the two of you always are, staring wide-eyed at your gorgeous home, not a speck of dust or object out of place. Who would have thought that you would be the epitome of the ideal housewife in such a short time?

Yes, you wonder. Who would have thought? Certainly not you.

If only they knew how deep down the deception goes, how lost you are in this pretend world you’re stuck in. And your heart twists and turns when your friends share about the little and big spats that happen behind closed doors, giggling and sighing in an understanding you’re not part of when they playfully complain about how much work love is.

But it’s always worth it in the end because the good always outweighs the bad if you’ve found the right person (not to mention the makeup sex is a bonus). Or so they say, but you wouldn’t know what any of that feels like. Sakusa doesn’t leave room for any arguments, any disagreements, any hint of anything less than a perfect relationship.

Even in the privacy of your bedroom, you feel like you’re in a cheesy porno, dressed in the prettiest white slip dress decorated with dainty lace and a string of pearls around your neck. You feel like a doll as you’re positioned on the bed, eyes demurely looking down, letting Sakusa do as he pleases while he guides you, calloused hands roaming over your skin. You’re sure he means for it to be pleasurable and intimate, and you can’t deny that he knows your most sensitive areas, shuddering when he grazes over your hardening nipples. But there’s a coldness to his movements, a calculating aspect in the way he examines you, dark eyes scrutinizing every inch of you as if they’re looking for a blemish, a reason to lecture you on not taking care of yourself.

Yet as predictable and standoffish as he is, he does know how to pleasure you and you writhe underneath him, moaning, lower lips dripping in your own arousal. But you whimper when he growls at you to stop moaning so loudly, to stop acting like a slut.

“I’m dating a lady, not a whore.”

The words cut you, pain and emptiness mixing with the rising pleasure, muddling into a confusing and overwhelming mess insides of you. You don’t trust yourself to speak, hot tears pricking at your eyes, unsure whether a moan or harsh words would slip past your lips. But you know that neither will work in your favor, so like always, you hold your tongue, doing whatever you can to keep your lover happy. You close your eyes, letting yourself get lost in the tightening knot inside of you, submitting to the waves of pleasure that crash over you as you cum, fingers tangling in the rumpled sheets, back arching in ecstasy.

Only when Sakusa is asleep, his back turned to you, the two of you cleaned and freshened up, do you let your tears stream down your face, feeling more alone than ever in your shared bed.

You hold out longer than you should, much longer than you should, in the hopes that things will improve, that Sakusa will loosen up, reveal his true self to you, let you reveal your true self to him. It’s just early dating jitters, early relationship issues. Things will get better.

Except it’s months later and things aren’t better. If anything, they’re worse and you can feel the weight of his expectations and the stress of perpetually living by a prewritten script crushing you.

It’s time to put an end to this charade.

It’s just another uneventful night and you idly stare up at the ceiling as you wait for Sakusa to join you in bed. Your heart is racing, throat feeling dry and choked up as he slips under the covers. You’re terrified, of Sakusa’s reaction, of ending everything, of starting from scratch. But you know it’s the right decision and when he finally settles in beside you, you begin to speak.

There’s only the sound of your trembling voice as you quietly tell him how you’ve felt all along, how everything has felt so prim, proper, fake, how everyday just feels like another session of rehearsing your lines, making sure you meet whatever standard he’s set for you. You want passion, real love, fights, laughter. You just want to be yourself. You just want to be with someone who loves you exactly the way you are.

“Kiyoomi, maybe we should break up. I don’t think we’re right for each other. I don’t think I’m what you want. I don’t think I’ll ever be what you want.”

“You’re right. Despite how much time, work, money, and patience I’ve spent to better you, you haven’t changed at all.”

You’re left reeling from the matter of fact harshness of his words, the slight exasperation in his tone, as if this is all your fault, as if you’re just a bothersome misbehaving pet.

“Prim and proper? Passion? Fights? So you’re tired of manners? Tired of being a respectable woman? You just want to fight and fuck like animals?”

You open your mouth to protest, anger licking at the open wounds his verbal assault leaves behind. But before you can retort, the air is ripped out of your lungs in a stunned yelp as your body is swiftly flipped over, your face shoved into the mattress until it’s a struggle to breathe, fabric and cushion all you can taste.

Your arms flail as you struggle to breathe, nails clawing at the sheets, arms trying to push yourself up against. But it’s no use against Sakusa’s strength and just as specks of black begin to enter your vision, fingers tangle with your roots and you gasp as your head is harshly jerked up, neck bending painfully back, jaw forced open from the strange position.

You whimper, tears beginning to blur your sight as a calloused hand turns your face until you’re staring at a condescending impassive countenance.

“If you want to be treated like a slut that badly, I’ll be a good boyfriend and give you exactly what you want. Ass up. Now.”

There’s no room for disobedience and spurred on by fear and pain, you listen, awkwardly shuffling into position, shame heating your face at how exposed you feel. But it’s only the start and you scream as a heavy strike lands on your bare ass, more and more blows raining down upon you, until you’re sobbing for mercy, agonized cries forced from your mouth, thighs trembling at having to support yourself through the torture.

Your upper body slumps in relief when the hits finally stop, but you flinch when fingers methodically prod at your entrance. You instinctively try to lurch forward, away from the touch, but it’s no use and you clench your eyes in humiliation at the sloppy wet sounds betraying your arousal.

“This is the wettest I’ve ever seen you. You really do like being used and treated like a bitch.”

You wish you could deny it. You wish you had the spirit to talk back, maybe even spit on that handsome face. But all you can think of is how full you feel as Sakusa’s cock slams balls deep inside your dripping hole, how deep he is inside of you from this angle, how overwhelmingly pleasurable the mix of pain and lust is as he uses you like you’re nothing more than a warm breathing sex doll.

All you can do is lewdly moan and take it, tears slipping down your face, drool seeping into the ruined sheets, eyes rolled back in your head. The coil in your stomach tightens and tightens no matter how hard you try and hold it at bay, desperately trying not to cum, not to inadvertently admit your body’s betrayal as it succumbs to every thrust. But it’s too much, the unfamiliarity of this brutal pace, the overpowering sensation of his tip reaching new depths inside of you, and you shatter to pieces, pussy convulsing, body twitching, pleasure like you’ve never felt before surging through you.

All through it Sakusa continues his relentless rhythm, a sneer marring his flawless face as he watches you suffer through your orgasm, writhing underneath him. It’s disgusting how much you love this, pathetic, pitiful, and yet he’s harder than he’s ever been, more turned on than he ever thought possible. And all it takes is a few more thrusts before he’s spilling inside of you, a strong hand holding you still and tight to him as his groin presses against your ass, not an inch of space between the two of you as he paints your insides white.

Maybe you had a point all along. You’re absolutely filthy and wrecked and he grimaces at the tear, sweat, and sex stained mess he touches as he shoves your exhausted body away from him. Yet there’s a certain appeal to your disheveled appearance, how ruined you are because of him.

How beautifully you break.

Well if you have no desire to improve yourself, he can learn to meet you in the middle, learn to let you be the low-life whore you have no desire to move up from. After all, that’s what you said love is, right?

Accepting each other’s differences.