#im not addicted i can quit anytime i want!!!!!!!!

[kingslayerstew]

♡

[kenzuieee]

ran haitani x spoiled gf

nothing..just some ran headcanons

ran haitani who doesn’t even try to hide the fact that hes staring at you while being behind the wheel of his bugatti la voiture noire.

ran haitani whose eyes glance from the street infront of his eyes to you. he practically undress you with them anytime theres a red light as his left hand grips the steering wheel whilst his right hand caresses your plush thighs. 

y/n who has to constantly remind ran to focus on the road as he keeps losing focus due to y/n quite literally seducing him without even knowing it.

y/n who constantly runs up ran’s bank card almost every day without a care in the world ? why should she care ? her boyfriend is ran haitani for fucks sake !!

y/n who puts her pretty feet painted white on ran’s dashboard as she mindlessly scrolls on instagram.

“rannn, do you think this would look good on me ?” you ask as you show the older haitani the most basic dress ever with a big smile plastered over your face.

“baby..that dress is so plain and simple for $2000.” he chuckles as he eyes the short black wool and silk dior dress on your cracked iphone 14 pro max. “and when did you crack your phone love ? i just bought it two months ago.”

you huff and pout as you lean back into the black seat of his luxury car. “so you’re saying it’d be ugly on me ?” you roll your eyes and continue, “and its the screen protector idiot.”

“i didnt say that love, anything looks good on you. i just dont think its worth that price.” ran mutters.

“whatever ran, im still going to buy it” you roll your eyes again while putting the dress in your cart, along with the DIOR ADDICT LIP GLOW OIL and some simple red bottom heels to match the dress. 

ran haitani who would definitely buy his girlfriend skims okay ?

you never have any luck with skims drops, as if anyone ever does. so you find yourself constantly complaining to ran about how what you want is never in stock or everything being sold out before you can even get to it. honestly, you weren’t TELLING ran to buy you skims, you were just complaining about the unfortunate situation thats been happening for months and months with each drop.  so when you and ran haitani left another bonten meeting at a bonten owned club, he told you about how he had a surprise awaiting you at your shared penthouse.

a series of “rannnn, what is it ? will you tell me please ?” flooded his ears during the car ride home that he simply smiled and answered with a simple “you’ll see.”

uppon arrival you see two large delivery boxes sitting upon the doorstep and you question what it could be. ran carries them inside with ease. ran removes his shoes after taking the boxes inside and tells you to sit infront of him and open the packages. you look at him with a puzzled face but nonetheless, you open the first box.

anticipation kills you as you remove the loads of packing peanuts and tissue to finally see a clear bag that says “SKIMS” on it and you almost pass out. 

“babeee” you look at him with puppydog eyes “did you really ? is all of this for me” you look at him as hes pouring some tequila into a clear glass with a cigarette between his lips. he looks at you, winks, and tells you to try everything on for him. of course, the first set you try on for him is the “fits everybody micro thong” and the “fits everybody micro triangle barlette.”

hi pookies, first post ig :3 this is the first “fanfic” i’ve written ig (?) lmk how i did and should i write a nsfw part 2 ? idk !! ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

[randomravager]

sorry idk where else to send this but its getting colder and the colder it gets the paler i get which makes my sh scars stand out more which makes me want to sh. i havent shed in a while, i am 4 months clean and i really want to sh but i dont wanna break my streak. idek if i really am 4 months clean bc i realized recently that i do a lot of things that could be considered sh but ive done them long enough that i dont even think about them anymore (like not eating right away when im hungry, working out hard enough that im sore for like a week, biting my lip, digging my nails in my skin, stuff like that) i am gonna be able to start wearing long sleeves again so my scars will be covered, but anytime i see them i start craving sh again, and im worried im gonna break my streak

dude you (and anyone else who is reading this) can send stuff my way! honestly the tinier things are not as big of a worry if that makes sense? like yeah they are definitely behaviors that need to be worked on but if it stops you from cutting I feel like it’s a decent way to wean yourself off from sh behaviors (it is an addiction after all, it’s hard to full stop quit). I feel like you’ve probably seen a bunch of those methods to cope with the urges but I’ll definitely link a post or two into the comments of this.

YOUVE GOT THIS! YOU WILL SURVIVE! WOOOOO (also being 4 months clean is fricking awesome)

[cainshdw]

hey little doll, how have you been my cute girltoy?? there are some things i'be been wondering about quite a lot lately, like.. now that you've my eyes.. do you look for them whenever you feel that you're being watched? do you search for me in hopes that i might be there in the crowd? do you still hope that i'm there watching you when he's fucking you just like the dirty little bunny you are?

you must probably put up quite i show whenever you think i'm there in the shadows watching you, thinking about how fucking jealous i would be of each touch, as your moans fills the room.. do you hope i'm hearing it? hoping that i would just lose all my control and show up, claming my space and claming you to myself, raping you just like i do on your dreams?

It's funny, now that i know my victim even better, i can imagine your expressions and i know how my little doll sound when she's being used. everytime i hear that voicenote, i can't help but smile reminding that i broke my prey so bad to the point she touched her bunni parts thinking about me. was it good, bunny? it was probably me getting you in your sleep, right? waking up finding out im there, deep inside your little bunny cunt, my hands covering your mouth so you don't scream, my low voice that turns into growls just like a beast treathening it's prey so it won't fight back and makes it end even more miserable.

- shhhh, i'm sorry little doll, but you look so pretty while sleeping that i just could not control myself. i hope you forgive for this, but you feel so good bunni..

I'm addicted and obsessed about you bunni, that's something that i most ask forgiviness for, butt i have no plans of stopping. to be honest, even if i wanted i just can't stop! i'll still be there watching you, even if it means going back to being a quiet shadow.. but one day, i'll surely break you up so bad that you can't live without your stalker, your captor. we both know that I've already made you start developing stockholm. you can deny, doubt, anything but i know the sick and dirty toughts i've made you have, as you kept reading my notes getting seduced by my words and ideas, by how much you loved getting my attention. i'll break you up and make anyone else in your life seem boring and unworthy

anytime he looks at you, you'll start thinking about my eyes

anytime he touches you, you'll think about my touch

anytime he fucks you, you'll think that you'd rather be raped by me

anytime he says you're his property, you'll think about how bad you want me to kidnap you and make you mine

no one can be more obsessed with you than your favorite stalker, my precious little doll angie.

with much obsession and desire

.: B.

[safesthaveninexistence]

I control what portals they see me in. I'm their favorite page. I cannot get it wrong manifesting for it's my desired intentions goes through. I'm tangibly over an antonellamania number of years worth of nicotine. Im only addicted to myself. My within is tangibly over an antonellamania number of years worth of nicotine. My within is my nicotine. I'm naturally rigged to not have any regrets. I'm nailed to the version of myself that doesn't have any regrets(chills this is already true). My within has this insurmountably inescapable gravitational pull. My dream life has this insurmountably inescapable gravitational pull. My magnetism has this insurmountably inescapable gravitational pull. Not a dang thing about me is boring. Im Godzilla meet King Kong everything about me is staggeringly impressive. I'm tangibly stunning. My stunningness is tangibly Godzilla Meets King Kong. I get the Magic cranking and going. I'm rigged to get the Magic cranking and going beyond unfathomable measure. I'm rigged to never lose. I'm worthy of my own car. I'm worthy of my own Rolls Royce and Jeep. I'm worthy of over a gazillion of the most luxurious expensive mansions. I'm worthy of over a gazillion of the most luxurious expensive luxurious private jets. I'm worthy of the world's biggest and loyal fanbase. I'm worthy of having absolutely everything, even that undernooth scoop satisfaction. Magic is potently real. My within know how to make sense to me. Everything I say is already true. I'm rigged to choose happy. Life never inconvenices me. Reality never inconvenices me. My within never inconveniences me. I'm tangible potent Magic. Just when they think I'm done surprising them they see I'm not quite done yet. When I'm vibing to the melody of my within they vibing to me. I travel long within my within. I put Magic everywhere. I put Magic here and there. I put Magic everywhere. Batshit insane creativity the type of creativity that has them thinking "HOW THE FUCK WERE YOU ABLE TO COME UP WITH THIS". They tangibly can see my creativity behind the words I speak (chills) like an animated movie like they tangibly see the intelligence and the work I put into it(this is valid). Cause it's the energy they're seeing. My intelligence has to express itself. I fearlessly face reality unafraid to change it. I'm so attractively intelligent. They taste my intelligence. My intelligence is awe-inspiring. They listen to me cause I am what I speak.... (chills) WOWWWWWWW. I'm paid to teach manifesting. When they see it working for me they then to try it for themselves and it's all rigged in my favor. Im inspiring my intelligence is inspiring. My intelligence makes them never want to hurt me. They tangibly feel I'm guiding them(chills). That's why they depend on me. I fearlessly share my intelligence and that's why I'm on Tedtalk with the most viewed(chills). Never giving my power away I'm sharing my Magic. I'm the only reason they have success stories (chills) and I can effortlessly take it away anytime. I'm the Great Debator. "We can manifest anything we want right? And the Universe is always listening and the fact and the Universe is boundless why can't one manifest for an unrealistic realistic? It is that easy. Ridiculously easy. Ridiculously easy to be a Zillionaire. It's all energy." I'm POTENTLY mindblowing. I skip levels on a quantum levels. The way I speak is naturally my validation. I naturally give the answer they need in the way they get me(chills). They get staggeringly profound chills when I self-validate(chills). Damn..... oh shit............ everyone gon' get profound nonstop chills and they say im an eerie mystical experience. They tangibly I'm not from Earth. They tangibly sense I'm from another realm. I'm legendary. I'm the apex predator of being staggeringly legendary. 600+ Oscars, bestselling author of manifesting books, most viewed Tedtalk, dance movies and movies went number 1 most popular in the world(chills) omg and Zillionaire Superstar. Im staggeringly legendary. My successes feel they can crush their heads.

[sluttywoozi]

Code Of (Mis)Conduct | kmg x f!reader feat. Choi San of Ateez

Playlist: Yes Man - P1Harmony | Addicted - Monsta X | Need to Know - ELHAE & IM | I Don't Understand But I Luv U - Seventeen PU | Leave The Door Open - Ateez Cover

Summary: You're just trying to keep your head down and your coworkers out of your business but that's not exactly easy when your cubicle sits between Choi San's and Kim Mingyu's.

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~10k

Warnings: not a threesome, food and alcohol, sorry i made san kind of a dick i know he's a kind sweet boy, grinding, size kink, spanking, oral m rec., spit kink, hair pulling, marking, fingering, unprotected sex

Reader Notes: written as a commission so some details are not as inclusive as i normally try to be, tsundere, use of girlfriend but no she/her, has vagina and breasts, physically smaller than gyu, marks show on skin

A head pops over your cuticle, floppy black hair appearing before sweet eyes and a nose with the cutest freckle. Mingyu has been in the square next to yours for the better part of the year, a transfer from the Camden branch and a cutie to boot, though he is endearingly clumsy. He’s fallen off his chair trying to grab a lost pen four times just this month, and anytime you hear a crash to the right of you, you know exactly who the culprit is. He also likes to ‘bother’ you occasionally, though occasionally is starting to become something like every single day. 

He doesn’t actually bother you, but he does distract you. Case in point, the conversation he’s trying to draw you into, one you actually have the time to afford for once. He’s curious about what you do in your free time and you could just tell him, but you’ve made it thus far without anyone in this office knowing personal details about you besides the visible ones. You’re not sure you’re willing to give up that anonymity, especially because Mingyu so quickly became the golden boy of the bullpen. If you start giving in to him, other people in the office will think they can talk to you, and it’s already hard enough having Mingyu and the only other person you tolerate know things about you. 

The other person you tolerate is Choi San, and tolerate is quite the generous word. Unlike Mingyu who thinks he’s bothering you but isn’t, San thinks he’s not annoying you at all but is actually unbearable. You deal with him because he always knows where to find the good creamer and because he’s ridiculously attractive and you could use some eye candy on your left side too. 

Yes, San’s cubicle sits to the left of yours. You’re in a San-Mingyu sandwich, and not the kind you’d like. No, this kind includes conversations and teasing and insults that they both think are jokes, which would be fine, even pleasant, anywhere else. Unfortunately for all three of you, you’re at work, and work you has patience for exactly 1.5 people. 

You give Mingyu the patience a whole person deserves because he’s cute and sweet and brings you home-baked goods. You give San the patience of half a person because he’s a menace who deserves nothing more and nothing less. 

Maybe I’m being too hard on him…

You jump as San rises to rest his folded arms on your shared cubicle wall, his stupid hot face twisted in a smirk and his gaze half-lidded in what you can only assume are his bedroom eyes. You won’t lie, he definitely makes you… feel things, but you don’t have the emotional bandwidth or will to engage with him like he wants. You’re pretty sure that’s only making him try harder though, so you go for a change of pace and give in, turning to San with an expectant look and waiting for him to speak. 

You catch Mingyu’s face falling in the corner of your eye and wince as he sinks back down to hide behind his wall. Fuck, you didn’t mean to hurt his feelings. You’ll have to ask him what he’s doing this weekend to make up for it, and if that’s not enough, you’ll tell him what your plans are too. 

Watching San’s smirk widen when he sees Mingyu shrink, you frown and furrow your brows in distaste before swivelling back to face your computer screen. You mindlessly click and type away at your little excel spreadsheet, ignoring San’s attempts to get you to respond to him. 

You’re officially out of patience for him for the day, and it’s only 11:37 AM. 

You’re going to have to corner Mingyu at the water dispenser. He hasn’t poked his head over in hours and it’s nearly time to pack it in, making you fear you’ve actually pushed him away for good this time. It seems like something so small, ignoring him to answer San, but you suppose with how San is always goading him over their sales records, Mingyu is a little sensitive when it comes to him. You’re not the type of person to apologise and you’re absolutely not the type of person to embarrass yourself by peeking over his wall, but you will try to make it up to him. 

He’s bent over comically far to fill his water cup, a beastly thing with times and encouragements printed on the side, and you know you shouldn’t spook him but you just can’t resist. 

“Mingyu.”

He jumps, water shooting out over the mouth of his open jug as he turns with confusing speed to face you. 

“Y/n! W-What’s up?” You can tell he’s trying to act cool, but his stutter and reddening cheeks give him away and you just know you’ve caught him off guard enough by approaching him that you might not even have to ask him about his weekend at all. You do anyway, for some reason.

“Oh! My weekend… Um, just working out and taking Millie to the big park across town. She likes that one a lot better and her girlfriend should be there, so,” He cuts himself off, biting his lips between his teeth and clenching his eyes shut as if he’s embarrassed. 

“That sounds nice. I hope Millie’s girlfriend is there. And that they have a nice time. And you too, I guess,” you sound stilted as hell but you’re positive this is the longest combination of words you’ve ever said to him, so he should be happy with what he’s getting. 

And of course, he is. Blisteringly happy, in fact, his beam taking up the whole of his face and his entire body curling closer to you. Wow. Mingyu is kind of like, obsessed with you. Shockingly enough, you don’t mind. It means you don’t have to look up as much to slightly avoid his eye contact, and there’s the baked goods too. He always claims he just needs a tester, but you know he has a truly wild amount of friends that could try his creations, so why is he giving them to you? In good tupperware? The glass kind.

You were in your own head while Mingyu was realising he hadn’t responded to you, and you both look to each other at the same time in alarm. You can’t slightly avoid his eye contact now, not when his face looks like it does and he’s ten centimetres shorter than normal. You’re reminded why you don’t gaze straight into his eyes, and it’s because this always happens. Your dumb, traitorous body reacts to having his full focus on you. It would be one thing if it was just sexual, but it’s your heart too. The mutinous muscle flutters, just like the mosquitos in your stomach do, and, like always, you refuse to think a single thought about what it all means. 

“Well. Bye,” you turn on your heel and speed back to your cubicle, pointedly ignoring the doe eyes boring into your back and further ignoring San’s petulant stare. He undoubtedly watched the whole exchange, must have seen Mingyu melt into you and the way you didn’t flinch away, but you don’t care. He’s been ragging on Mingyu too much lately, and someone needs to put him in his place. If that person needs to be you, so be it. It might even mean you get to talk to him less. 

Thank fucking God. 

So far, it doesn’t look like you’ll be talking to San any less. Then again, neither will you be talking to Mingyu any less, considering that all three of you have just been put together for a group project. You thought you’d left those behind in uni but here you are, stuck in between two men who won’t stop glaring at each other long enough to actually listen to what the assignment is. You shake your head, knowing that this will likely go exactly like group projects of years passed and you’ll be carrying the team. However, that can only happen if you let it, and you’ve grown a backbone since then. It’s rather spiky too, you’ve found, so if either of them have a problem with putting aside their issues and working together, you’re confident in your ability to… persuade them. 

For now, you’ll let them continue to completely ignore your boss. It makes you look better and you get to be the one in charge of allocating work because you’re the only one who understands what exactly the work is, so it’s a win-win. You stand, thanking your director with a handshake and a smile that turns smug as soon as she leaves before you round on the two men beside you. 

“So. Would either of you like to tell me what this project is about?” You ask, watching as the competitiveness drains from their faces and dread replaces it. They shake their heads, nearly bowing them in shame while they wait for you to grant them the knowledge. You could make them suffer for it but you’ll ensure having you as their lead will be enough pain for a lifetime, if they don’t cooperate.

“We’re tracking how the beta for the new product is selling - there’s two versions with pretty significant differences. Mingyu, you’re selling one, San, you’re selling the other. I’m doing the analysis and we’re all working to put together a portfolio and presentation that the board won’t fire us over. Don’t forget about the ‘we’re all working together’ part.”

“You didn’t say, ‘we’re all working together,’ you said, ‘we’re all working to put together,” San provides rather unhelpfully, making you roll your eyes hard enough it almost hurts before you decide you’ve spent long enough away from your cubicle. You walk away from them both, Mingyu scampering after to tell you about Millie’s date with her girlfriend, Asher, and San watching with narrowed eyes as you tilt your head just enough to show you’re listening. 

“Okay, Mingyu, how many models of Beta One have you sold?” You jot down the number as he calls it out from his cube. 

“And San? Beta Two?” You ask absentmindedly, pen spinning in your hand. 

“Why do you always ask him first?” San groans, his deep voice managing to still sound annoyingly manly even as he nearly whines. 

“Because he’s ready first. Were you ready when I asked? And his name is first alphabetically, too.” 

“I thought it was because you like me more,” Mingyu pouts from behind the wall (you can’t see it but you can hear it). 

“I do like you more but that’s not why,” you answer, uncaring of San’s gasp and Mingyu’s shock of a giggle. 

This project is going to be the death of you. 

Mingyu is wearing glasses today. He’s wearing glasses, and his hair is all long and messy, and he has circles under his eyes so he must not have slept well, but his voice is gravelly and rough and you can’t feel bad for revelling in it. Fine, you feel a little bad, especially when you catch him dozing at his desk. So it makes sense for you to make an extra cup of coffee, you were already at the machine and it was just a minute longer. And you have this extra coffee, and you have a neighbour who likes black coffee and seems to be quite exhausted, so why wouldn’t you drop it off on his desk? And while you’re at it, why not gently shake him awake and also try not to let your fingernails dig into his massive deltoid? Why not? 

He’s so very grateful, his large hands dwarfing the mug and his cute lips pursed around the edge as he takes a sip, and he explains softly that Millie ate one of his scrunchies and had to have emergency surgery. You’re not sure why he came in at all, but he answers that question before you voice it, saying he doesn’t have any vacation days left so he called his mom to come and take care of her. She won’t be able to make it until later in the afternoon, if at all, and you can tell he’s worried. 

It feels beyond foreign to offer, almost wrong, but the words slip out before you can stop them. 

“I have a few days saved up. If you want, I could take a half and go… hang out with her.”

Tears flood his eyes immediately and his head drops back to rest against his chair. He hiccups in a breath, his tits heaving with the motion as he does nothing to hide his crying. You see San breeze by in your peripherals, and, sensing he’s about to stop, give a sharp shake of your head and throw a quick glare in his direction. Seeming to understand the threat to his life and limb, he carries on to the lobby to flirt with the receptionist for his break. Your focus returns to Mingyu when he hiccups again, the waterworks slowly drying up. 

“You’d do that for me?” He asks brokenly, like you’ve offered him your kidney instead of your afternoon, and you can only respond, “I’d do it for Millie,” before handing him some tissues and going to talk to your supervisor. 

Thankfully, she’s an animal lover herself and felt terrible having to deny Mingyu, so it was easy to get the afternoon off. She also mentions her satisfaction with your project progress, though you decide not to tell San and Mingyu lest they get overly comfortable. 

You return to your cubicle to find Mingyu on a sales call and the coffee half gone, and, smiling slightly to yourself, go back to translating their numbers into words. 

Work flies by as you find yourself oddly excited to leave for the day. It’s not just because you get to skip out on the rest of your work (until tomorrow), you’re also looking forward to seeing Mingyu’s apartment and meeting Millie. You’ve stubbornly not let him show you any pictures of her, though you’ve seen the ones on his desk from afar, and you’re a little nervous she won’t like you. You don’t have a lot of experience with animals, which is why it was so ridiculous of you to offer this, but what’s done is done. 

Mingyu looks like a different person when you tidy up your cubicle for the day and pop over to his. The glasses are gone (sadly), his hair isn’t as messy, and his eyes are clearer - all changes pointing to a decrease in stress. So why is his lip bitten so pink? And why is he rearranging his pens? 

“My apartment is kind of messy,” he starts, explaining himself before you ask, nibbling at that bottom lip like you suspected he had been. 

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” you furrow your brows and shake your head, sure it can’t be bad enough for you to have anything to fear. 

“I bet yours is clean,” Mingyu protests, though you’re not sure why. 

“Yeah, it is clean. I like to keep it that way, it makes me feel less stressed,” you shrug, not realising you’ve given up another piece of information until you catch the grin spreading across his face. You hate that he notices when you share things about yourself. You almost wish you could fly a little further under his radar, but you know deep down that if you lost his attention, you’d feel it, like the loss of a friend. Is Mingyu your friend?

Yes, you suppose he is. You wouldn’t do this for someone who wasn’t your friend, you’re sure about that, at least. His smile just deepens, his fingers twitching by his sides like he wants to reach out for you. It’s then that you realise you need something from him. 

“Your key, I need your key,” you say quietly, as if you don’t want to disturb the stillness surrounding this moment. You hadn’t realised it was a moment but it feels like one, even under these fluorescent lights with San just a cubicle away and likely trying to eavesdrop on your whole conversation. You don’t mind him knowing about this; it might make him chase you a little more, but you’ve gotten better at evading him and, if necessary, glaring him into submission. He still tries to flirt, and you still like it a little, but it’s not the same. Nothing has been the same since this project started two months ago and you had to confront the fact that you really do like Mingyu more than you like San. It’s harder to face both men, San because you honestly feel a little bad, Mingyu because you still don’t want to figure out these feelings and what exactly they mean. 

Mingyu holds the key out but you’re too lost in thought to notice. You don’t notice anything until he takes your hand in his and gently folds it around the metal, the touch of his warm, thick fingers sending shockwaves through your system. He’s never really touched you before, just grazed you while handing off confections, and you’re stunned to learn what he does to you. Normally, you don’t like being touched but you dread him letting you go, your entire form tipping closer and closer to him until he slowly drops your hand back to your side and releases you. You stagger back, bumping into the edge of his desk before he grabs your elbow to pull you forward again. You can tell he’s biting back a smile at your unusual moment of clumsiness, and you’re grateful to him for deciding not to mention it. Maybe because you still have his key in your hand and it could act as a weapon. Probably because he knows you so frustratingly well that he’s aware saying anything will make you freeze back up. 

You don’t linger in the office, swiftly making your way downstairs and to the Red line. You actually live pretty close to him, you discover, the commute being on half the same lines you usually take home. That’s convenient, a little voice whispers in your head, making you clutch the key tighter and resist the urge to put it on your key ring for safe keeping. You don’t need to think about things like that right now, you need to think about how to approach Millie. Should you let her come to you? Should you let her, like, sniff you first? Should you look away to show respect and submission? Fuck, you don’t have service on the subway and you’re not even sure what kind of dog Millie is anyway, so googling it couldn’t help you now. You suppose you’re fucked, and pray that Mingyu will keep liking you even if his dog doesn’t. 

You expect to hear barking as you turn the key in the lock but all that greets you is a massive, golden furball with a cone on her head. She looks so sad and confused, and you’re not really sure how smart dogs are but she seems to know you’re not who she wants. However, she also seems to know you’re not a threat because she’s already licking your hand - gross - and wagging her tail. 

“Hi Millie. It's nice to meet you,” You laugh awkwardly and pat her back with robotic movements, “I’m sure you’ve heard about me, your dad is kind of obsessed.”

You may be imagining it but it’s almost like she nods, and you decide to take it and run. 

“He is, right? I’m not crazy?” She just stares at you now, and you start to think maybe you are crazy but then you remember you have no one else to talk to about this. You’ve hidden Mingyu from your friends for a multitude of reasons, the largest being that you know you’ll give yourself away as soon as you start talking about him and they see the annoying little steel hearts in your eyes. But Millie… Millie can’t talk. She can’t perceive your feelings about her dad either, and she definitely can’t show up at your workplace to see him for herself like your friends could. 

“Millie, what do I do?” You collapse to the floor, uncaring of the golden fur that will inevitably get on your black work slacks, and wrap your arms around her neck. “I like him. I fucking like him. It’s terrible, and I don’t know how to deal with it, or how to talk to him, or if I even should talk to him anymore, but I have to! This stupid project has two more weeks, and even after that, I’ll still be stuck in between them!”

You’re not crying but you could. However, you vowed never to cry over men when you were thirteen and a half and it’s a promise you’ve kept ever since. You really want to though, and you wonder if maybe you could cry about your situation rather than the men (man) you’re actually upset over. That could be a cute little loophole, and just as you start to let the tears fill your eyes, you feel your phone buzz in your pocket. 

It’s him, you already know somehow, and as you check to see a text asking if you’d gotten in okay, you hope you can manage to find peace in the fact that you’re totally into Kim Mingyu. 

You’re in love with Millie. There’s no other explanation for how you find yourself on the floor, face to cone with her big ol’ head resting on your outstretched arm. She’s panting happily at you, tongue lolling out to the side and eyes nearly shut. They close a bit more with every pass your nails make over her stomach, and you know it sounds dramatic, but it would make your year if she fell asleep on you. 

(You happen to fall asleep first, and that’s how Mingyu finds you. Knocked out on the floor in your work clothes, his precious baby’s head just inches from yours. She’s closer to you than he’s ever gotten and he rolls his eyes at the flash of jealousy that lights up his throat.)

You blink awake as the warm weight on your arm leaves, whimpers filling the room and making alarm bells go off in your head. You spring to attention, fists formed and nearly swinging as you turn to face whoever upset Millie. 

Oh. Mingyu’s home. Fuck. 

In all of your lamenting, you’d forgotten to consider what might happen when he returned home from work. Returned to his apartment, you mean. To his home, not yours. 

He’s got the brightest grin on his face, his pretty mouth stretched apart and his annoyingly perfect white teeth shining at you. Millie is trying to jump on him, so he looks away just for a moment to kneel down and welcome her into his arms, trying to avoid the cone she keeps knocking him with as she does her absolute best to kiss him. He laughs, his eyes crinkling at the sides and his high-pitched giggles replacing the whimpering that had awoken you. Before you can stop yourself, you’re laughing too, wandering over when Millie swivels her head around to stare imploringly at you. Apparently, Mingyu’s attention isn’t enough and as he pouts, you bite down the smug smirk that wants to rise. Millie loves you back. 

“Do you wanna stay for dinner? I had something nicer planned tonight and there’s enough for two. Well, three, I eat enough for two on my own,” he chuckles sheepishly, rising to his feet and towering over you. 

You don’t have anything planned, and you don’t really have any chores you need to do at home so you suppose you could stay. For a little while. 

A little while turns into most of the night. 

Mingyu is an excellent cook, his meal for the evening far better than anything you could scrounge up yourself, and in just a couple hours you’re washing dishes elbow to elbow and laughing like old friends. You don’t know how he’s cracked you open like this, but cracked open you are. You’re laughing at his jokes, smiling back when he grins at you, even leaning into his flirting for once. You wonder if it’s alarming to him but assume that he’s not willing to question anything that’s happening, just in case it closes you back up again. 

You would almost commend him for knowing you so well if it didn’t have you feeling so miffed, like all the work you’d done in trying to keep your walls up around him was for naught. You suppose you could throw some more up but what’s the point? Mingyu will just knock them down with his big warm hands and sweet smiles and dumb jokes, and then Millie will eat all the pieces, the little hoover she is. 

So, you won’t build up more walls… but, you can’t get too comfortable, either. This needs to be a one time thing. 

One turns into two, two turns into three, three turns into once a week. 

The project has come and gone, as has any attempt to pretend you’re not just as obsessed with Kim Mingyu as he is with you. Even San seems to have noticed the change, returning to what you assume is harmless flirting and a touch of light bullying. Mingyu doesn’t even really pick up on that anymore either, the flirting or the teasing. He’s too busy peeking over the wall in between you to stare at you with hearts in his eyes or whisper, “For dinner, I was thinking…,” in a voice far smaller than you’d think could come from a 186 centimetre tall man (that’s the exact number, he’d corrected you quite petulantly when you approximated him to be 182 centimetres). 

You don’t even get annoyed when he interrupts your work anymore, just giving a light roll of your eyes and then all of your attention to whatever he’s deemed important enough to tell you about. Most of the time, it is important. Like asking you to come to the vet with him to see if the neighbour dog had gotten Millie pregnant (her and Asher went through a bit of a rough patch). He didn’t, and Millie got a very stern talking to about safety and loyalty, and you got to see Mingyu in full dad mode which was very, very dangerous for your poor, susceptible ovaries. Some times are less important, like when he made you stop working on your spreadsheet to show you his new high Wordle score. He started playing when San said he needed to work on his vocabulary and while you think his repertoire is just fine, you are happy that he’s found a new game to spend time on rather than playing Cooking Mama in between work calls. 

The environment at work has changed too. People passing by have always said hi to San and Mingyu, but now they mention you too, unfortunately. Mingyu always chuckles when they include you, knowing that you’re frowning into your computer screen even as you respond with a fake-bright, “Morning!” Your boss makes more small talk with you, as do others at the water dispenser, and it’s exactly as you’d feared. 

You knew that letting Mingyu in would make everyone else think they had access to you too, and you were right. You’d expected it to feel like the end of the world, like you would need to pack up your things and terminate your employment immediately, find some remote job and move to Antarctica so your coworkers wouldn’t even have a chance of becoming interested in your life. 

However, it’s not as bad as you thought. 

Sure, you can’t go to the bathroom without Janet asking if you need her to go with you, but it’s nice to have a lil Ladies Room Chat from time to time. And maybe your daily fights with Anderson over the good parking spot are becoming more and more playful and less like you’d actually hit his car if it was legal. And perhaps you’ve noticed the way the receptionist looks at San and told Mingyu and now you’re hatching a scheme to get them together. And it’s possible, you begrudgingly admit, that you’re having a good time with it. With Mingyu, with your work… acquaintances, with everything. 

You’re enjoying yourself and no matter how foreign it is, you think that it could be okay to just lean into it all. You also think that if Mingyu asked you out, you’d say yes. 

You sit across from Mingyu at his dining table, a glass of red wine at your lips and a glare radiating at him over the rim. It’s been weeks of this, weeks of him making you dinner and you cleaning up together and then watching a movie on the couch. You’re not sure how much longer you can take the domesticity without the label, which is quite off-brand for you, needing a label at all, but you want Mingyu to be your boyfriend, damnit! You want to have to fill out one of those stupid forms, and actually stay over after dinner, and drive to work together and have him drop you off at your cubicle with a dramatic goodbye as if he won’t be just a metre away. You want to kiss him, and hug him, and feel up those massive biceps. You want to fall asleep next to him and wake up with him and let him teach you to cook and probably get distracted and oh no, he needs to bend you over the counter? 

Your eyes flit to his island as if you can picture it, feel the cold marble under your stomach and the sharp edge digging into your hips and the smooth texture of it against your skin as he fucks in and out of you. His kitchen is custom made, the cabinets a bit taller than regular for his height, so your feet would probably hang once he got you folded in half, and the thought of being suspended as he fucks you how he wants has heat flooding your stomach. 

“Y/n? You okay?” Mingyu asks, a bite held up to his mouth as if he’s just now noticed how far away you’ve gone in your mind. You nod, finally taking a sip and trying to let the deep flavour of the wine clear your mind. It doesn’t, of course, just makes you feel warmer and the images clearer. Imaginary Mingyu wraps your hair around a fist and bends over you, whispering filthy nothings into your ear and biting at your strained neck, and you can’t take it anymore. 

“Mingyu, why haven’t you asked me to be your girlfriend?” You don’t mean to sound so upset, and you know it isn’t fair, but you think you are upset. How could he do this to you, make you see him this way and want all these things with him, and not take responsibility? 

He chokes on the bite he was chewing, coughing uncontrollably and turning red as you sit there and stare at him. He’s not actually choking or you’d help, but for now you just watch as he takes gulp after gulp of water and fights to clear his throat. You see fear, confusion, and something like incredulity in his eyes once he finds his breath again. 

“I kind of… thought you were?” Mingyu starts slowly, trepidatiously reaching across the table to cover your hand with his and subtly remove the knife from your grasp. 

“What do you mean, you thought I was? Why haven’t you kissed me then? Or taken me out on a date? Or even told me how you feel about me?” Now you’re the confused one, because how could Mingyu think he was dating you without doing any of these things?

“Well, I didn’t want to scare you away! You wouldn’t even look at me when I used to say good morning and now I get to text you goodnight. And I would love to plan a date for us, you’re just a self-proclaimed homebody so I thought dates at home like this would be better.”

You suppose those are good explanations, and you can’t blame him for being scared, you can be kind of scary. 

“What about the kissing?” You ask in a small voice, pursing your lips and avoiding his eyes as if you could hide the vulnerability currently swallowing you. 

“Baby, trust me, I want to kiss you all the fucking time. I just couldn’t tell if you were a touchy person so I wanted to let you make the first move,” Mingyu promises, intertwining his fingers with yours and lifting your hand up to his mouth to place a gentle peck. 

Your heart races, thumping like a rabbit on the run, as you take in his words. You feel supremely stupid for your part in the lack of communication and even more annoyed at how long you could’ve been on your back underneath Mingyu if either of you had just said something. But, you’re not one for apologies, so you stand and stride to Mingyu’s side of the table, pulling his chair out just enough for you to throw a leg over it and straddle his lap. 

“Okay, so just to be clear, I’m not a touchy person but I want you to touch me. I’m not a romantic person but I want you to romance me. And I’m not really a relationship kind of person, but I want one with you. So, you’re my boyfriend and I’m your girlfriend, and that’s that. Good?” 

His eyes shine up at you, his beam blinding, but you don’t need to see much as he nods and cradles your face, pulling you closer to press a searing kiss to your lips. You’d expected him to be gentle, tentative, but he’s been waiting even longer than you and you suppose he’s got some time to make up for. You don’t mind, preferring more of a fast pace yourself and opening up for him immediately when his tongue grazes your bottom lip. He tastes like wine and want, like pure desire, and already you never want to stop kissing him. 

You sit there in his lap, making out as the food grows cold and the wine grows warm, kissing the night away until something starts to nudge at the place between your thighs. Something huge, you think, judging by the sheer length of it pressed against your leg. He moans when you grind down on it, making you grin into his lips and do it again, reveling in the way his hips jerk into you. One of his hands clamps around your hip and the other travels down to adjust himself before he slides lower in the dining chair so his dick presses right against you. He’s so warm you can feel him through the four layers separating you but it’s not enough, you need to feel his skin on yours, his body on yours. 

“Mingyu, can we move this to the-,”

“Yep!,” he shoots to his feet, barely waiting for you to hug him with your legs before he speedwalks to his bedroom and sits heavily on the bed, the force of it bouncing you in his lap and making both of you let out a groan as his dick presses between your legs. 

“Clothes off,” you insist, pulling at the buttons of his work shirt and pouting when you realize he’s got an undershirt on too. He chuckles at you, pushing your hands to your own shirt so he can finish undoing the buttons, working much faster than you were. He’s pulling off the white tee when you finally get your shirt open and off, and you both freeze when you catch sight of the other. 

He’s so… perfect. His skin is so honeyed and smooth, his muscles the optimal level of defined, and his body… His body dwarfs yours, you could hide in the circle of his arms and be completely unseen, untouchable except by him, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love the idea. 

You know Mingyu’s staring because you’ve got your tits out, but you’d like to think they’re some of the best he’s ever seen and that’s why he’s hardly breathing. Or moving. And not speaking at all. You slowly shift to unclasp your bra, letting the garment fall and watching his eyes grow impossibly wider. 

He just keeps staring, and though you’re not one to be self conscious, it’s slightly difficult when you’ve got a specimen of a man looking at you so intently. You squirm a bit in his lap, your lip bitten between your teeth and your arms coming up to cover your chest. He catches your wrists in his hands and draws them back down to your lap, whispering when you protest, “Shhh, baby. Just lemme look for a little bit.”

And look, he does. Soon enough, he touches too, his fingers grazing your nipples and his tongue reaching out to swipe at his lips as he watches them pebble under his touch. He experiments for a while, constantly looking up to your face as he tries different things, searching for what really makes you tick. A quick study, he finds it, and it’s like he’s lit you up. You gasp for breath and arch into his hands, your legs stretched open over his thick thighs and your nipples hardening between his fingertips. 

You want his mouth on you, and either you say it out loud or he reads your mind because his tongue is lapping at your skin in the next second. His lips wrap around one side, his fingers tweaking the other, and fuck, you need these stupid fucking pants off. You’re getting so warm and they feel so restrictive, and you sink your fingers into his hair to physically pull him away when he doesn’t respond to calls of his name. 

“What is it?” He pants, his lips shiny and his eyes hazy. 

“I want all the clothes off, they’re getting in the way,” you complain, starting to shuffle off his lap before his hands take you by the waist and plop you down next to him on the bed. You’re not used to just being moved so you’re quick to bristle, but when you really think about it, you love that he can manhandle you like that. You love that he’s so much bigger and stronger than you, and, frankly, you wouldn’t mind if he became your own personal peoplemover. 

He stands to undo and shuck his pants and your face is just about at dick height, so as soon as his boxers are revealed, you lean forward and trace your tongue over the length of his cock. He’s massive and so, so hard already, and you desperately want him in your mouth. 

“Can I suck you off?” You ask, unable to hide your laugh at the way his knees buckle and he has to brace himself over you on the bed. 

“Don’t laugh at me,” he groans, hiding his face in your neck and letting his hands travel up to your breasts to meanly tweak a nipple, “I’ve had a crush on you for months and you just asked to suck my dick, of course it’s gonna do something to me.”

“I’d like to do something to you,” escapes your mouth before you can stop it, making Mingyu snort into your throat and then bite it harshly to stop another from letting loose. You don’t usually make jokes like that, out loud at least, and though it feels very unfamiliar to you, you stand by the sentiment. 

“For real though, can I suck your dick?” 

“Yes, my God, let me get on the bed so I don’t actually collapse,” he laughs, withdrawing from his hiding place to belly flop onto the sheets next to you, making you bounce and land closer to him than you were before. He twists over and lifts his hips as you pull his boxers down, his cock springing up against his stomach and swaying heavily to the side. It’s gorgeous, just like the rest of him. Massive, slightly curved, and wrapped in thick veins, your eye finding one in particular that you can’t wait to feel inside of you. You want to feel all of him inside of you but you want him in your mouth first, need to feel that thick cock weighing down your tongue and pushing into your throat, need it like you need to breathe. 

Mingyu needs it too, you think. He’s leaning on his elbows but he’s got his head thrown back like he can’t stand to watch, like he’ll cum the second he sees your lips wrapped around him. It’s cute, really, but you want him to see this. 

“Gyu, watch,” you breathe onto his dick, waiting for his eyes to meet yours before taking it in both hands and licking at the tip. You’re gentle, to start, your tongue darting out to lap at his frenulum and glide over the head, your hands following the movements to drag your saliva down to the root of him. You’re not sure you’ll be able to fit the whole monstrous thing in your mouth but you’re going to try your damndest, and it’ll need to be slick if you want even a chance. 

You gather up the spit in your mouth and catch Mingyu’s eye, letting it drop down onto his shaft and smoothing it with your hands as his face crumples on a groan. 

“You’re too fucking good at this,” he whines, his fingers clenching in the sheets before you take them in your own and bring them up to your hair. 

“I literally haven’t even started,” you remind him, “and you can pull.”

You bring the head back up to your mouth and press a soft kiss to the seam, taking in one final deep breath before tucking your lips over your teeth and swallowing as much of his cock as you can in one go. He shouts above you, his hips bucking up and shoving more into your mouth. You try to accept it but you gag and pull off of him, trying to catch your breath. Mingyu pets your hair, whispering a thousand apologies and doing some deep breathing of his own, until you go again and take more this time, making him hiss and grip your hair tighter. 

He doesn’t buck into your mouth again but he does start running his. 

“Look so pretty with my cock in your mouth, honey.” “Wanted to see you like this since you picked up that pen in front of me, shit.” “Fuck, you’re the best, don’t stop, don’t fucking stop.”

His praise spurs you, keeps you going when the air gets too thin and your throat feels too raw, and you’re bobbing up and down on his cock, really starting to hit your stride when he pulls you off by the hair and up into a scorching kiss. You wonder if he can taste himself on your lips and grumble to yourself that if he’d let you keep going, you could have really tasted him, but you know that him stopping you now means you’ll get his dick that much sooner, so you can’t complain. 

“Sorry, baby, got too close. That mouth is fucking insane, Jesus,” Mingyu moans, his chest heaving against yours as he tries to regulate his breathing. You smile and peck him again, sliding off the bed to strip off your slacks and underwear and missing the way his eyes heat up and his face smooths out. 

“C’mere,” Mingyu sits up, holding his hands out to you and bringing you in close to stand between his knees. He pushes the hair away from your face, cradling your cheeks in his palms and laying the softest, most gentle kiss on your lips before running his hands down your body. They graze your breasts, smooth over your stomach, pause for a squeeze at your hips, carry on down your thighs, then glide back up to turn you around. You guess he’s only really seen the front and you’ve gleaned that he likes to look, so you let him take in his fill, feeling his eyes on you like a physical thing before his hands replace them. 

He focuses on your ass immediately, pinching, kneading, rubbing, and you think you can just barely hear him whispering to himself when he asks, “Can I spank you?” 

Your eyes fall shut in silent thanks, your heart thudding in your chest at the thought of his big, hot hands coming down on your skin. 

“Fuck, yes,” you sigh, following dazedly when he tugs you to lay across his lap, shivering when he places his hand on one cheek as if to steady you before he starts. 

“Just tell me when you want me to stop, this isn’t a punishment or anything,” Mingyu reassures you, squeezing your ass to acknowledge the little, “Okay,” you let out. 

The air stills when his hand leaves you, tension winding tighter and tighter in your gut until a smack echoes throughout the room and a hot sting starts radiating through the flesh of your ass. You almost feel like you can’t breathe, it feels so good, and you just know you’re getting wetter, can only hope it doesn’t trail down between your thighs to land on his. You have a feeling he’d love that so you’re not too worried about it, but he doesn’t need to know yet, just how much power over you he holds. 

“Was that alright?” he asks, his voice slightly worried and his palm soothing the throbbing skin. 

“Perfect,” you force out, your toes wiggling in anticipation as you wait for the next, “Are you gonna do it again or not?”

“Impatient,” he laughs but obliges, bringing his hand down on you lightly before following up with a harder smack, his fingers digging into the flesh sharply afterward like he can’t stand to let go. 

He carries on like that for however long. You can’t be fucked to tell time when you’ve become a sopping wet mess on his lap, when you’re nearly crying with pleasure, when your cunt is pulsing and leaking and empty and your ass is hot and swollen and covered in handprints. You don’t know anything anymore, just Mingyu, and when he carefully pulls you into his arms and cradles you to his chest, you think you might finally let yourself actually cry over a man. 

“Fuck me?” You whine somewhat pitifully, clutching at his bicep and looking up at him imploringly. 

“Baby, no, I gotta stretch you out first,” he insists, and you consider protesting, but then you remember what his dick felt like in your throat and know that he’s right, even if you hate to admit it. 

“Fine, but be quick,” you reply, rearranging yourself so your back rests against his chest and you can spread your legs out over his. You gasp as the cold air hits you, your wetness glistening on your thighs and between your legs before one of Mingyu’s warm hands slides down to cover you, his teeth nibbling at your ear cartilage and his voice deep as he whispers, “So fucking wet.”

His fingers glide slowly through your folds, taking their time getting to know you, enough so that you buck up into his touch and moan his name impatiently. He teases you for a while longer, until you’re writhing in his arms and about ready to shove four of your own fingers inside, and that’s when he finally gives in. 

He slips in one, first. It’s long, thick, bigger than yours and able to easily hit your g-spot, but still not enough. Two is better by half, but you still feel so empty, “Need you,” you whine, and he slides in a third, spreading and curling all three but just barely missing that rough patch inside. You know he did it on purpose, but you don’t complain, knowing that he’ll just tell you to wait and that you’ll do it, like the g-.

“Good girl,” Mingyu breathes into your ear, and the shudder is uncontrollable. 

He must feel you clench, must feel you get wetter around his fingers, and you just know he’s got an evil smirk on as he chuckles, “You know, I thought you might like that, but I wasn’t sure.”

“Then why’d you say it?” You ask, frustrated at him cracking your code once again. And at how his fingers have stilled halfway inside of you. 

“Because I wanted to. I would stop if you told me, but I want you to know how much of a good girl you're being for me. I think you deserve to hear it and I like saying it, and now I know you like it too, so…,” he drifts off, thrusting his fingers into you harshly and sucking in a breath when he feels you clamp down, “Are you gonna keep being my good girl?”

You can only nod weakly, whining as he starts to fuck you roughly with his fingers, the digits jackhammering in and out of you at a speed you almost can’t handle. You can feel your wetness splashing against your thighs, hear how it squelches out of you with every thrust, and you know Mingyu feels it, hears it too. You fucking love it, love how messy he’s gotten you and how you’re only going to get messier, and when he whispers lowly, “Wanna see you squirt,” you know he loves it messy, too. 

Thank God for that, because he’s totally going to make you squirt. It doesn’t happen often, only once or twice with that one magic-handed ex, but you recognize the signs. You can feel it coiling up inside you, the pressure building and building deep in your pelvis, like a knot that just keeps getting pulled tighter and tighter. He changes the angle of his thrusts, aiming them a bit higher and slightly more shallow, and you know he’s got you. 

He pounds into you, fingerfucking your g-spot with startling accuracy and force until the balloon pops and you scream, your knees fighting to close as liquid sprays out of you and down his arm. Your eyes clench shut and you lose your breath, your walls fluttering uncontrollably around his fingers as you cum hard enough you nearly black out. 

“Good girl, there’s my good girl, there’s my baby,” Mingyu exhales, petting at your sweaty forehead and keeping his fingers curled inside of you. Your hips jerk with aftershocks, little bursts of slick seeping out around his fingers with every buck. 

“Now will you fuck me?” you pant, sprawled on top of him and quite literally aching for his cock. 

“Yeah, baby, I’ll fuck you now,” He nods and laughs at you again, as he seems liable to do, and nods, his chin brushing against your shoulder and his stubble grating on your skin. 

He wraps his arms around your waist and lifts you, placing you on the bed next to him so he can hover on top of you on all fours. 

“How do you want it?” He asks, looking, for all and intents and purposes, as if he’d do literally whatever you said. You like that, and absolutely plan to use it to your advantage later, but for now you’ll be kind and say, “Like this, Gyu, just like this.”

You suppose that’s the answer he wanted, because he grins and smacks a kiss to your lips, hauling your legs up around his waist and letting his cock glide through your folds to nestle against your clit. You jump, your pussy still sensitive from the orgasm he’d just drawn from you, but you love the pressure and heat of him there. You want him inside though, need him stretching you out, so you angle your hips and thrust down, sinking the head of his cock into your entrance. 

He whines into your open mouth, a broken, stuttered thing, and pushes in a couple more inches. That’s all you can take, for now, his girth bigger than the three fingers he’d opened you up with and his length enough to reach the end of you. He fucks you open just a little bit more with every thrust until he’s halfway inside and it’s like something shifts in you to make room for him because from there, it’s easy. He pulls out, or tries to, your cunt sucking him back in so tight it’s hard for him to move. 

Mingyu isn’t one for giving up though, so he pulls back with more force and plunges inside of you again, his one thrust sending you up the bed. Your head rests just inches from his headboard so he wraps his arms around you to hold you in place as he starts to really fuck you. He’s so big and warm around you and inside of you, and when he tilts his hips up and finds your g-spot with the head of his cock, you know you’re done for. 

There’s little else you can do but lay there and take it as he pounds into you, one of his hands rising to clench in your hair and pull your head back so he can bite bruises into some very visible spots on your neck. You’ll be annoyed later at having to cover them up, but right now, you love that he wants to leave his mark on you. You want to leave your mark on him too, dragging your nails down his back as you moan his name and beg him to keep going. 

“Won’t stop, baby, won’t stop until you tell me. Never been like this before, fuck,” he sounds wounded, dazed, like your cunt has cast a spell on him and he never wants to wake from it. You’re not sure you sound much more composed, your throat starting to ache from all of the sounds he’s pulled from you tonight and your stomach filling with heat as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge. It won’t be long now, and though you don’t want this to end, you know that later, you can wake Mingyu up to fuck you again and he’ll be ecstatic about it. 

“Are you close?” You ask urgently, your neck straining from his grip in your hair and your pussy now formed to the shape of him. 

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes,” he hisses, dropping a hand down to your clit to press rough circles into the raw bundle of nerves. He was closer than you anticipated but you have a feeling that soon enough, Mingyu will have you cumming on command, so you have no doubt you’ll get there with him. Especially not with the thrusts he’s got aimed right at your g-spot, and definitely not with the thick fingers he’s got rubbing your clit. Before you can even take in another breath, you’re tumbling off the edge with him, your pussy clenching around his cock as his hot cum floods into you in waves. 

It’s like nothing you’ve ever felt, your brain dissolving into a delicious haze and your body melting between Mingyu and the bed. You let your eyes slip closed, thoughts ticking away one by one until you don’t have even a single string of words to connect. You have to wonder if every sexual experience with him will be transcendental like this. 

Mingyu whimpers above you, probably sensitive as he starts to come down. Your cunt keeps squeezing him and though you don’t wish it would stop, you do feel a little bad that he seems to be struggling so much. 

“You know you can pull out, right?” You offer, confused as to why he’s staying inside of you when it seems to be hurting him so. 

“Don’t want to, I like it,” he forces out, digging his hips into yours just a little bit more before laying his head down on your chest and promptly falling asleep. 

You don’t really know what to do, but you can hear Millie whining so you give him a few minutes to recover before fighting to shove his dead weight off your body and throwing on his shirt. His cum is trickling down your inner thighs so you make a pit stop at the ensuite for a quick shower before peeking your head out of the bedroom and looking for Millie. She’s on the couch, staring balefully at the door and wagging her tail just slightly, though she perks up when she sees you. She’s probably waiting for her bedtime walk and you don’t want to keep her waiting any longer, so you find a clean pair of Mingyu’s boxers to throw on and get her harnessed and ready to go. 

You cup Millie’s face in your hands and kiss her on the forehead, whispering quietly about where you’ll go on your walk and standing to grab her leash before you finally notice Mingyu in the doorway. He’s got rumpled pajamas on and he’s trying to frown, likely about you leaving him to sleep alone, but his eyes are too full of love for you to believe him even the slightest bit. 

“Can I join you two?” He asks softly, pushing off the doorframe to amble over and steal a kiss before pulling away to let you answer. 

“I’d be annoyed if you didn’t,” you assure him, holding a hand out for him to take and following him to the front door of the flat. You slide into your loafers, nagging yourself to bring a pair of slides to keep at his place so you don't have to walk in your work shoes. 

“You know… if you wanted, you could, um, maybe bring some stuff over to have here? Like, comfy clothes and maybe your nighttime things so you could… stay?” 

He sounds nervous to offer, like he’s still anxious about frightening you away, so you answer quickly, “I want the third drawer of your dresser.”

He bites back the beam, staring down at you with his canines pressing against his bottom lip, and just as he leans down to kiss you, you can’t help but think, fuck, I’m fucking in love with this guy. 

A head of floppy black hair rises above the wall separating your cubicles, followed by bright eyes and a cute, freckled nose. You spot the grin and know exactly what he’s decided to bother you about, preemptively declaring, “No, we cannot leave early to take Millie to the good park across town.” 

Mingyu whines quietly, pouting and beseeching you with his eyes to change your mind. You’re resolute, well aware that your previously preciously stored vacation time is dwindling and you can’t afford to waste anymore if you want to take Mingyu on that hiking trip. You, personally, despise hiking for all that it is, but Mingyu is a fanatic for it and you know he’ll carry you whenever you get tired or bored, so this is one you can take for the team.  

“But Asher-”

“Babe, Asher will be there on Saturday too. Millie doesn’t need to see her all the time, space is good for a couple.”

“Tell that to you guys! Oh my god, you’ve been unbearable since you got together,” San exclaims, popping up over his own wall to glare at you both. 

“San, please, don’t think I haven’t heard you with the receptionist,” you retaliate, “you might as well just ask her to marry you with how obvious you’re being.” 

Mingyu only smirks in response and you try to pretend it doesn’t make your heart and your pussy flutter. 

You’re not successful. 

AN: from the bottom of my heart, thank you to @bbychocolat for commissioning this work! I love the idea and it's the fastest ive ever written 10k words before, and it was more than wonderful to have both her cheering me on as i wrote. thank you to @petrichor-mingi for beta reading this for me, your notes are invaluable!

[substanceuser971]

i started using my wheelchair at work to minimize my chronic pain and fatigue, and this next week since making that choice my hours got slashed. i already dont make much as a low wage part timer, the standard hours i was told id be working are barely enough to cover rent and bills so i need to apply for ssi, but now i have to worry about if my boss is deciding that she thinks im unfit to be working as much as im supposed to be working. im hoping its just a random incident but i dont know. shes been super weird about me using my wheelchair, i havent been feeling like shes actually hearing what im saying when i tell her i dont need any accommodations for my conditions, and she went out of her way to ask me for details about my disabilities despite me outright saying i dont need accommodations, which. that alone is against ADA guidelines. but im also scared of just being fired if i try to talk to her about the situation. a coworker offered to let me take her shift with permission from our boss, and if i understand whatsapp correctly, my boss saw my message about it but still hasnt replied.

i really am sinking again into that feeling of inferiority ive been trying to overcome. i feel like im seen as disposable garbage by the people around me. i feel like even when i try to make myself small and minimize my needs and keep to myself, others are so fucking bothered by the fact that i exist. like how dare i taint this storefront with my visible disability lmfao. when i fucking do my job BETTER with my wheelchair, because im not in as much pain. i can work LONGER shifts with my wheelchair, and i can preemptively avoid needing to call out sick with a flare up from pushing myself too hard, but i feel like my boss is having her vision clouded with ideas of what she thinks it means for someone to be disabled. she almost seemed upset with me for it, because i had told her when i was hired that i would be able to do every part of the job without accommodations, but i fucking CAN. im able to stand up at the register and get up to climb ladders on the rare occasion i need to do that. i told her all of that. its like my words dont mean a thing to her. i dont know if i can ever escape being looked down and the thought makes me want to just stay locked in my house constantly instead of having to deal with dirty looks and fucking employment discrimination.

i really just want to drink or get high. i feel like pot would help better, i think the depressive effect of alcohol would just make me feel even more miserable and then id feel even more inferior for not being able to stay away from it. at least with weed, id get the happy mellow feelings of being high and its something ive accepted i wont be able to quit anytime soon. i feel resigned to addiction honestly. i can barely sleep without weed, i need it to function like a normal fucking "human being" if thats even something i have the privilege of calling myself lol. as soon as i was able to buy more, i went right back to smoking every night the way i knew i would.

and its scary, when i dont have my cholesterol meds. i have to call the doctor on tuesday to get my information updated and ask about getting those refilled, but in the meantime i feel like i need to be extra careful what i eat and how much i smoke, because i can feel the heaviness in my chest, but im too poor to afford much healthy food and im stuck with smoking because edibles are too ineffective with my freak digestive system. they stop working after just a few days of use too close together. so since my budget was limited i only bought flower because thats the surest way i can get high.

honestly if it werent for my partner supporting me, and my finances already being shit, id be a lot more scared that id turn to much more destructive drugs. hes told me that hes here to support me through my struggles with alcohol, and ive started opening up a little about my cannabis use being an issue, he already knows im a massive stoner i just havent talked much about how destructive that is. and hes told me that his big limits are cigarettes and illegal drugs, which is a huge deterrent to keep me from even considering them, especially cigarettes since ive thought about it before and theyre way too easy to access. really my partner is the biggest reason im able to keep my addictions somewhat under control. and on the flip side, them thinking im cute when im high is at least comforting when i get down on myself for using too often. i want to be healthier about it, but i hope at least of its a lifelong struggle that she can still find value in me. thats an awful way of thinking about it but i dont know how else to. i want to be valuable because i dont trust that anyone will actually like me as a person beyond what i can do for them. when i really examine the situation, i dont think thats really the kind of person my partner is, but it gets hard to fully believe it when thats what im used to.

i feel fucking pathetic, constantly, all the time. im struggling and struggling and suffering and people hate it because i cant exist as easily as they all can. im too emotional and traumatized and disabled and mentally ill and obnoxious and socially clueless. i feel like it doesnt even matter what good i do, because even small mistakes or flaws are enough for people to decide they hate me. it doesnt feel fair but i dont even know if i deserve fairness. i feel like theres something innate about me that keeps me from being as much of a person as everyone else. i cant escape being scum. i hate it. to a degree i hate people. i dont understand how God has so much forgiveness for such a cruel species. i guess thats one of the things thats so great about Him, i couldnt do the same in His position. i admire Him for that, but its hard not to feel some degree of frustration that all these people are allowed to go about their lives being cruel and hateful and ignorant while the rest of us are pushed down and left to die if not outright killed. i understand thats probably the point, we need to learn to work together to make peace and improve the world because God cant step in Himself, but its difficult to trust that were going to get anywhere at this rate. i want to keep living but its hard to feel hopeful about it. i want to live a happy life with my partner and our future kids but i get so fucking scared that ill die before i get the chance. from lack of access to medical help, from lack of money to support myself, from any random health emergency that feels like it could pop up at any moment. i hate all of this. i want to love and be loved and i want to fucking make the world better by getting involved in my community but i feel like my time is so limited and it scares me. i feel like people wouldnt really care if someone as fucking pitiful as me died, because so many people view people like me as subhuman. and ive felt that all my life. i cant escape it but at least drugs and booze let me hide from it for a few hours out of the day.

[shawtuzi]

hi love! can we maybe get a plug! levi🫶🏾

i know y’all probably tired of this but i live and breathe aot characters as plugs im sorry </3

this is 18+///cw include: drug usage, smut, fluff, black coded reader, bad writing 

- okay so when i think of plug!levi i think of him as the supplier, the guy eren and connie get their shit from but never give credit to when people talk about how good the weed is and it annoys the absolute shit outta him

- he’s often mobile but not as much as eren and connie. he doesn’t like to be away from you for too long

- best believe his weed is homegrown!!! he doesn’t trust anyone to handle his plants the way he does. it doesn’t matter how long it takes no one will see one single nugg until levi deems it’s good enough but trust it’s worth the wait

- he’s one of those people that insist they aren’t addicted and can quit anytime he wants but is quick to roll a blunt at the slightest inconvenience

- plug!levi prefers to keep your relationship private when it comes to social media but is not afraid to show a little affection in public such as giving your shoulder a kiss or a giving you a lil forehead kiss

- the clingiest boy ever when he’s high he loves being skin to skin with you whether it’s innocent cuddling/cockwarming or fucking your brains out in missionary pushing your chest snuggly against his as he fucks into you

- go to song to fuck you to is gang over luv- brent faiyaz

- like eren he’s not big on drinking but is a SLUTTT when he drinks!!! if y’all are in public he won’t show his neediness no no instead he’ll be in your ear the whole time telling you how much he wants to fuck you

- cannot and will not go to sleep until he gets a goodnight text from you something about that “goodnight i love u so much <3” text puts him right to sleep

- the only time you will probably ever see plug!levi be messy is when he’s eating your pussy while high. he doesn’t care if your slick is covering his nose and chin he will not stop until your cheeks are soaked with tears and you’re pushing his head away

“c-c’mon levi that’s- hah t-that’s enough,” you whimpered lightly pushing levi’s head away. “but we just started baby c’mom gimme a few more you can do that right? lemme make you cum three more times and i’ll buy you that chanel bag you’ve been wanting,” he grunted pressing sloppy kisses against your trembling thighs. from the neediness in his voice to the pleading look in his bloodshot eyes it all had you spiraling until you decided to let him have his way with you. even though you blacked out on the third orgasm it was totally worth the praise and the new chanel bag

- doesn’t wear any jewelry except thin lil chain but it still looks hot regardless

- when he smokes he likes to have you in his lap while you run your fingers through his hair quietly talking about how your day went or anything else you want to talk about he doesn’t care as long as he gets to hear your voice

- i won’t be elaborating but he wears bleu de chanel cologne

- whenever it’s time for him to get a haircut he has you do it for him instead of going to someone else. there’s just something about the act that’s very intimate to him. the way you constantly ask if you nicked him in a gentle voice or the way you kiss his shoulders every once in a while he just can’t get enough of it

- as stated before missionary is his go-to position he loves being able to admire your facial expressions and hear your little moans and whimpers in his ear

- “that’s it baby, feels good yeah? tell daddy how good he makes you feel,” levi whispered in your ear nibbling gently on the lobe. “s’good daddy y-you feel so good,” you wrapped your legs tightly around his waist giving him the sign you wanted him to finish inside and he was more happy to oblige, after hearing you beg for it ofc

- whenever you’re giving him head and have cotton mouth he forces his middle and ring finger in your mouth fucking your throat with them until your mouth is wet enough (i’m sweating)

- he doesn’t say this often, which is okay because he shows it with his actions, but he loves you more than life itself. as corny as it sounds you are his first love and he would wreak absolute havoc on the world if anything or anyone hurt you

[writersarchivex]

International Hotel

austin!elvis x reader

summary: elvis passes out before his preformance , reader saves the day i guess? just read. slightly better than the other one. im gonna do younger elvis next. enjoy. if not thats also cool.

word count: 1842

Work had never been your favorite thing. It was something you needed to do to survive yes, to keep you happy? No.

When you started out nursing was your passion. You've loved taking care of people. Even at a young age. Over the years though, the work grew tireless, and you enjoyed it less and less.

The day had gone by slow, just patient rounds and the occasional drug addict coming in trying to pawn drugs out of hospital.

You were finally given a moment to sit and relax while catching up on some charts that were busy piling themselves up throughout the day.

"Y/N! You'll never guess what I done got!" Evelyn screamed, disrupting the silence in the room.

You loved that girl; you've known her your entire life. Somehow, she also made it into nursing.

She's a sweetheart, but she's certainly not the brightest.

"Well, what'd you get Eve." You smiled softly at her over heightened enthusiasm.

"Father got me tickets to international hotel! To see the one and only Elvis! Gosh darn it you have to go with me!"

Your head snapped towards the girl, dread instantly filling your entire body.

No.

No absolutely not.

----------

"Darlin' you gotta understand I have to do this. Colonel says it's the best for publicity." Elvis spoke as you wiped a tear away.

He gave him a look.

You had supported him through everything, defended him, helped him when his mama was completely against what he was doing.

"You're breakin' up with me for publicity? I love you. I've loved you through all of this mess. After all that you're leavin'" You paused when you noticed the empty look on his face.

"You know what EP. The colonel can have you. I hope this gets you what you truly want." You cried, stepping out of the vehicle.

---

"I uh- that's awesome! What about work Evelyn, I can't just leave anytime I want."

She shook her head, smiling.

"Pop's is gonna take care of it all for us. Don't worry 'bout a thing unless it's getting pretty. Come on, it's Elvis Presley."

You sighed, knowing you had no choice. Avoiding the topic of Elvis Presley was easy for you until now. There wasn't a good enough excuse.

"Fine, I need to borrow some shoes though, I ain't got any good ones." You gave her a fake smile.

---

After you were finally dressed your nervousness was becoming more apparent.

It was simple. You would go, offer up some fake excitement, maybe yell a little, then it would be over and done with.

Dressed in a black dress, showing far too much cleavage for your liking, and some sky high black heels you were finally ready to go.

"Now you clean up nicely. Lets go, I wanna find our seats. We've got the VIP section." She grinned obviously jumping with joy.

This is literally your worst nightmare. After supporting that man for years he just left, and you haven't heard from him or seen him since.

Arriving at the hotel, you finally let the curiosity get the best of you. You began to wonder if he had changed any. He was always a fan of flashy suits and shoes. You smiled at the thought.

"Help! We need some help over here!" You and Evelyn heard the shouts from down the hallway.

You looked at each other making a dash towards the commotion.

"I'll be dammed." You sighed at the sight.

Vernon Presley was stood over his son, who had obviously collapsed.

"Holy cow! I'm gonna throw up!" Evelyn exclaimed as she ran quite literally the opposite direction.

Now you have no idea what kind of bad karma you were experiencing right now, but you were starting to regret every bad thing you've ever done.

"I- I'm a nurse." You said as loudly as your voice would allow.

Vernon turned to you, finally realizing who you are.

He nodded over at his son who was still very much compromised.

You knelt down to him getting a whiff of his cologne, as you took of your jacket.

His pulse was high, and as you were examining him who you assumed to be the colonel and some sort of doctor approached the group.

"He needs to go to the hospital. Don't know much about him but I assume the collapse was from exhaustion." You spoke, lifting his head gently to check for any sign of injury.

Nope, and sure enough as you were holding him, his eyes fluttered open, clearly the man was disoriented.

"All that matters is that this man preforms on that stage tonight."

You tried to protest but before you knew it, that "doctor" had injected the singer with some sort of fluid, causing him to shoot up with a cough.

"Y/N?"

Before you had time to even register what was happening, he was ushered off to get ready for the performance. You stood and brushed your dress off and fixed you hair a bit before you leaned against the wall.

"Y/N, it's been a long time." Vernon offered a smile.

You gave him a polite one back, you and he never had much of a relationship, it was always his mama.

"Yes. Mr. Presley, quite a reunion. How's Mrs. Gladys?" You turned to him as you watched his face fall.

No.

"She passed a few years ago. Elvis ain't been the same since. He needs rest. Won't listen to nothin' I got to say though."

He looked at you while you thought for a moment. You had adored that family for years, spending quality time with Elvis' mother.

You sighed, tonight definitely went way worse than you thought.

"I'm sorry for your loss." You simply said.

He offered you another smile.

"Y/N, I don't know what happened between you and my son, but could you talk to him? Maybe ask him to get some rest."

You sighed. You didn't quite understand why the man was asking you to do this, the two of you haven't spoken in years. You wouldn't even know what to say.

You saw him though. How tired he looked. You never could've imagined that the light in his eyes could die, but it did. It was missing.

"I'll try. Only doing this cause I know this is what his mama would want." You smiled rubbing Vernon's shoulder.

Vernon led you to the side stage so you could at least see him preform.

He was certainly a star. The light returned just a moment as he looked out to the crowd. He was obviously exhausted, but the movements where there.

He wasn't.

He looked like a shell of himself. Like someone else was in control of his body.

He looked like a puppet.

The sight was unnerving.

You actually had to turn away and choose to just listen.

It comforted you to just imagine him as was.

"The show's almost over, I'll show you to his dressing room. No one ever goes in there." Vernon said as he pulled me from the side stage.

The two of you walked through the venue, allowing you to realize how big this was. You were about to talk to the biggest celebrity in the world, and the love of your life, and you were meant to convince him to take a break from the show business.

Way to go Y/N.

Mama would be real proud, you thought. Shaking your head in resentment towards the situation.

The dressing room was filled with his clothes, and some other things that obviously belonged to him.

Not to mention an unnecessary number of huge mirrors. You would go crazy if you had to be in here as often as he, though you supposed if you had his looks you wouldn't mind.

Vernon left, and you took a seat in front of his dressing mirror. There were a few rings stacked on the table and a comb. Some women's eyeliner that made you let out a chuckle.

Then you noticed a particular ring. The exact one you gave him many years ago. You picked it up and smiled.

He loved this ring. It was his first one.

You stared at it for a moment before you heard the door open behind you.

"Have mercy- Y/N? What the hell are you doin' back here."

You quickly placed the ring down on the table. Feeling slightly embarrassed.

"Vernon wants us to talk." You said, voice slowly shaking.

The man before you held you stare, seemingly taking in every inch of your beautiful body. Which had become far more womanly since last he saw you.

"Then talk darlin. Ain't like I got nothing better to do."

You stood walking slowly towards him. It's not that he intimidated you, he was just so different. Colder.

"You're tired Elvis." You stated, earning an eyeroll in response.

He shook his head and sat slowly on the couch.

"Don't start that shit. You all don't know what you're talking 'bout." He griped.

You shook your head. This was not him. The passion had been drained out.

"I don't know you anymore, and from the looks of it, I don't want to,"

This earned a sad look from the man.

"But you used to love this. Was all you could ever talk about. It was your passion. Now I got a question for you? When did the passion for music die? When did music simply just become your job."

At this point you had to force yourself for going on a rant. You were a nurse, and you were going to treat him as one of your patients. Nothing more.

"I-"

You held your finger up to the man.

You looked around the room for a moment trying to spark up some confidence.

"I'm a nurse Elvis. Let me be frank. If you don't slow down, at least for a while, you will die. The pills that doctor is feeding you, and the tireless hours slaving for the no-good Colonel are gonna kill you. Your mama would've wanted better for ya baby,"

You inhaled sharply as you watched his head shoot up. Maybe at the mention of his mother, maybe because you called him baby.

Fuck

"Nurse huh. You were always so good at takin' care of me," He started.

"No one's spoken to me lke that in years. It's always so, anyway"

His thoughts must've been all over the place. His eyes darted all over the room, and his hands and legs were steady shakin.

"Come sit darlin'"

You hesitated. Not good no. Stay far away. Nurse. Patient.

"Okay." You smiled sitting next to him.

He leaned against the couch, still staring at me as I sat, this was the closest I've been to him in a long long time.

You looked him in the eyes, and you said something you'll probably regret.

"Don't die on me, okay?"

He pulled you by the arm and wrapped you in a warming hug. The sweat was something you just kind of had to overlook, God you had missed this man.

Somehow this simple gesture made you forget what happened all those years ago.

"I'll take a break. Just for a while, get back on my feet I suppose," He slurred into your shoulder.

You rubbed circles into his back, waiting for him to finish.

"On one condition. You let me kiss you darlin'" He said as he gently pull away.

Your face heated up immediately, like clockwork.

Before you could even think you nodded, and he took hold of your jaw.

His lips were chapped, but full. Just like you remembered.

``````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````

part two is up :)

[silversatoru]

megumi + gaslighting / iq reduction

pls mr fushiguro, undermine my intelligence every day, purposely keep me unstimulated until im ur dumb, dependent plaything ❤️

a present for you when you get off the plane <3 i took a slightly diff approach to this and i know ur degree is very much not related to science but science is all i know,, so idk,, pretend u were a bio major or something for the sake of this fic okay

megumi + gaslighting/iq reduction

tw: nsfw 18+, f!reader, college-student!reader x professor!megumi, dark content, gaslighting, heavy manipulation, iq reduction, dumbification, slight misogyny?

wc: 1.3k

you still remember the first day of mr. fushiguro’s class, and the way he seemed to pick on you of all people — the way he asked you to stay after class and immediately offered you a position on his team of research students. you remember questioning why he chose you instead of someone else, to which he affirmed that no one had quite the credentials that you did. and you were left wondering how he could possibly judge that on the very first day of classes.

you still remember the first time you showed up to the lab for said research group, the straps of your bag clutched nervously in your clammy palms. mr. fushiguro was a young but incredibly esteemed professor, and this was going to look great on your transcript, so you were nothing but a ball of excited jitters. and you were smart! you knew you’d be an excellent addiction to this team of students, and you were grateful for the opportunity.

or so you thought; but it quickly became apparent that you weren’t nearly as prepared as you thought you were. it seemed like everything you did was wrong — all of your experiment results were compromised, lacked accuracy, and were always rejected. it seemed like all the other students were excelling, and mr. fushiguro loved them — but he was always so frustrated with you.

if only you knew the frustration was a front. if only you realized that every experimental result you got was right, that every answer and every theory you came up with was painfully accurate. if only you knew that your struggles were entirely fabricated by mr. fushiguro and his ulterior motives.

eventually he made the recommendation that you do some remediation with him — a few one-on-one sessions to help sharpen your skills so you can contribute more to his research. so of course you said yes! because you wanted nothing more than to be helpful and you couldn’t understand what you were doing wrong.

so you attended the tutor sessions with your dark-haired professor; but they were less about learning and more about brutal criticism of your skills. mr. fushiguro berated and insulted your intelligence several times, making you falter at his words and wonder what you ever did to deserve to be involved in his research project in the first place.

“i just don’t think you’re cut out for this, ms. l/n”.

maybe you really weren’t cut out for this.

“your lack of skills has surprised me, i can’t say i’m not disappointed in your performance so far”.

you were disappointed in yourself too.

“you’ll have to put in a lot of extra work if you want to stay on the team”.

you’d do whatever it took.

you were always bright, always excelled in your science-related classes, so what was happening to you? why were you the weak link of his research group? why were you on the verge of failing his class? why was everything suddenly so hard?

you didn’t mean to break down in front of him, tears streaming down your cheeks as you choked back sobs and hid your face behind your hands. it’d been building up for a while now: your frustration, your sudden lack of self-confidence, your feelings of inadequacy; they were all overflowing. but mr. fushiguro showed you zero sympathy, staring down at you with icy eyes and not a shred of mercy. you were exactly where he wanted you, and he was about to seal the deal.

“i really expected more from you”

those were the words that broke you in half, your fear of failure becoming all to real in that moment. but his next words halted your tears and created a small shred of hope in your despair.

“but i do want to help you. my door is open to you anytime. i have practice questions and study methods that i’m happy to share with you”.

and so here you were, anxiously sitting at his kitchen table trying to solve a few problems that he’d given you to practice. but you couldn’t seem to figure them out no matter how hard you tried — brain frying as you tried and failed over and over.

but it was all exactly as it was supposed to be — the problems were never solvable in the first place — there were no right answers — they were simply meant to melt your little brain.

you came back to his house time and time again, and each study session was worse than the last. you were never able to figure anything out on your own, you always needed his help, you couldn’t do anything without him.

it was no shocker when you began to admire him, depend on him, feel like you couldn’t do any schoolwork on your own. his months of manipulation were finally paying off, you were finally a dumb little thing who had no self confidence and who was constantly begging for his help. and he was happy to provide that for you, but you were going to have to start making it worth his time — his expert help doesn’t come for free.

you’re not sure what possessed you to agree, to have his cock lodged in the back of your throat while he groaned and leaned back in his seat — but you needed his help, this was just a small price to pay. you’d bob your head and choke on his tip as it pressed into your esophagus as if your future depended on it, because at this point, it kind of did.

but the prices kept getting steeper; eventually a quick blow wasn’t enough to appease mr. fushiguro. he wanted more. if you wanted to keep his help you needed to be face down and bent over his kitchen table — and so that’s exactly what you did.

brain foggy and knees aching your sweaty fingers grasped at the smooth table top as he took you from behind. his strained cock dragged against your sopping walls, your ass nearly bruising from how hard he was fucking himself into you. whimpers and moans overflowed from your lips as your bare tits pressed into empty worksheets — the two of you had completely glossed over the “studying” portion of your night tonight, skipping right to your payment.

you could barely even think straight, your head spinning with endorphins as you cried out in response to the tip of his cock kissing against your cervix. his fingers dug into the sides of your hips, pressing little red circles into your skin from how hard he grasped at you. your were shaking, your entire body pulsing with bliss each time he thrusted up into your cunt.

he was so happy with himself, balls deep inside one of the smartest students who had ever graced his classroom. he’d taken a girl with so much potential it was sickening, and convinced her that she was worthless, reduced her to a less than average student who was desperate enough to take her professor’s cock in exchange for better grades. you were pathetic, embarrassing even, laying here on your stomach and babbling complete nonsense while he filled you up.

all it took was patience and a sprinkle of manipulation to get you like this. to make you a dumb little fuck toy who came to his house several times a week under the guise of getting help with class work.

and he’d keep this up until you could barely even think for yourself — reducing you to a brainless little pet who deserves to be stuffed with cum and nothing else.

you didn’t belong in STEM, you didn’t belong in a university in general — you belonged right here on his kitchen table, your face sitting in a puddle of your own drool.

you were stupid, or at least he convinced you that you were so much so that you actually became it.

[aitarose]

THE THEORY OF US (H. IWAIZUMI) pairing: iwaizumi hajime x fem!reader

synopsis: crushes are always inevitably revealed, whether through confessions or actions—however, you never thought you’d finally get the chance to make iwaizumi hajime yours during one of your many study sessions in the empty mathematics classroom.

word count: 1.3k

genre: high school, mutual pining, fluff, based on me hating my math class and not wanting to take my test, unedited

warnings: suggestive content, making out?

notes: hey sexcs, i wrote all of this during that speed write and this is completely not proof read at all bc im tired and want to fall asleep—but here’s what i have lmao

↳ DIRECTORY

There was a way in the posture of his stance, how he stood over the desk, hand supporting his body while staring down at your paper—deep veins protruding out of his skin, his muscles stiff as his concentration stayed on you and only you. It was like he was an addiction, something that you knew you couldn't have but just so wanted to taste—have a small bite of what was Iwaizumi Hajime, and never let go.

However, as the two of you were alone in the empty classroom, going over the questions that you had gotten incorrect on your last quiz, trying to find solutions that apparently he could solve—as the highest-ranking member of the class—all your mind could pay attention to was the feeling of his breath on the back of your neck. How it made shivers run up the back of your spine, heartbeat racing as a need inside of you grew into something worthwhile. Something that you just couldn't ignore.

"Iwa." You sighed, closing the textbook and placing your hand over his—the dainty fingers touching the calloused palms, noticing how rough and patched they were, wishing that you could hold them all of the time—walk through the hallways as his girl, as the person that was his and only his. "We've been at this for an hour now—if we're ever going to make any progress, it won't be today. My brain is practically fried."

He sighed, bringing his arm up and running a hand through the mess of hair on the top of his head. Brown locks falling just above his eyebrows as his eyes narrowed on you—determination at the tip of his tongue. "No," he shook his head, believing that he was capable of getting you that perfect score, that one-hundred percent in the class. "I can help, Y/N. Just trust me, okay? If anyone's going to help, it's going to be me."

With his words, you nodded—having been in somewhat of a trance in the deepness of his gaze, blood rushing hot whilst he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, squeezing you quickly and reopening the notes. You bit your lip, having him so close—a mere ruler length away from your body was torture, it was completely threatening to every sense of rationality in your brain.

He was your tutor, that person that was trusted to keep your grades up—to make sure that you succeeded in class and didn't lose your perfect GPA—but he was also Iwaizumi. He was that boy who'd hold the door open for students in the halls even if he was running late for class. The type of guy to always remember your birthday when you're only acquaintances and get you a small little gift for the special occasion.

If there was any perfect guy in the world, any boy that neared your perfect match—it was him.

So, knowing that you might never get the opportunity again, that you may never be as close as you are now—as close as two platonic friends could be—you took his palm in yours and asked him the simplest question that any girl could say to the guy of her dreams. "Can I kiss you?" A little stutter spoke in your voice, nerves wracking your mind and fear in your eyes as he froze mid-sentence, trailing off on the probability theory that you'd been working on.

There was a bit of hesitation in his stature, a weary nature that you hadn't quite seen before—it was frightening, the unexpected, whatever could come as a result from that one question. From that one single chance that you'd decided to take. "What did you just say?" He looked up, eyes on yours, hand still beneath the softness of your skin as you gulped. Before you could even respond, Iwaizumi took matters into his own hands—grabbing your cheeks and surging forwards, pressing his lips to your own.

It felt like ecstasy, him kissing you. If heaven was real in any way, this would be what it'd feel like to live there. To feel the wonders of pure paradise all of the time, twenty-four-seven in absolute bliss—no worries in the air, just utter happiness, and sensuality. He was your match, the person that you'd always wanted, and now you finally had him—you finally had him above you, tilting your head up with his pointer beneath your chin as his mouth moved with yours.

"Iwa." You attempted to say between kisses, breaths heavy and harsh, heart pounding out of your chest as he pulled away—eyes wide and lust-filled. "Iwa are you sure about this? I don't want you doing anything you're uncomfortable with." You folded your hands in your lap, watching as he sat back into the desk beside yours, falling into the chair as he once again ran his fingers through his tangled hair.

After a moment of silence, a smile overtook his face—a bright and wonderful beam of joy directed towards you—directed towards you and only you. "C'mere." He patted his knee, gesturing for you to come closer, to join him in the small and cramped space—to which you obliged. After all, what were you going to do? Ignore him? This was Iwaizumi Hajime we were talking about, Seijoh's esteemed ace. In no world would you ever ignore his wants and needs.

Immediately, his grip found your waist. Holding it with force as he settled you into his lap—connecting your lips once more as a gasp escaped your throat, surprised by the aggression that he was showing, surprised by how much he seemed to want you. As you carried on, heated and heavy with lust and attraction, infatuation in the middle of your high school mathematics classroom—his lips began to trail down.

It was everything you ever wanted, him peppering showers of love off of your jaw and neck—softly sucking and nipping, leaving small bruises on the pinkness of your skin—marks that you'd have a hell of a time figuring out how to cover up after all this was over. "Oh my god." You moaned out, arms holding his head to your body, making sure that he wasn't going to let go anytime soon. "Keep going. Keep going, Iwa."

He paused, disobeying your demands and taking a quick glance up at your face. You were the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, how you closed your eyes at his touch, mouth gaped open and gasping for air—it was a sight that he never wanted to get tired of, a sight that he'd been wanting to see for months now as you sat beside him in class. "Call me Hajime." He nodded, referencing the former title that you'd known him by. "You can call me Hajime, Y/N."

A light flush rose to your cheeks at the sound of your promotion, knowing that this meant that this wasn't going to be a one-time thing—that this could potentially be the start of a relationship, a long and lasting relationship between the two of you that could one day result in love. Love that you'd dreamed of since setting eyes on the brunette boy. "Then keep going, Hajime." Your eyes narrowed, challenging him to continue, challenging him to satisfy the needs you both were striving to complete.

With your wishes granted he cupped your face, hands covering the skin of your red blossoms and molding his mouth over yours for the third time that afternoon—biting the bottom of your lip and moving his tongue with your own. He was an exceptional kisser, that was for certain. There was no one in your past that even came close to how fantastic he'd already begun to make you feel—no past relationship that held a candle to the butterflies that grew in your stomach when he was around.

The butterflies that were the first of many, the first of millions on millions of jitters and nerves that would always arise with him. A relationship that was one of the books—all beginning in this small math classroom, with one question and one kiss that led to an infinite amount to follow. Your future was Hajime, and his future was you.

© aitarose.tumblr 2021. do not copy or claim my writing, works, themes, copy and paste my words, or headers as your own

[twelve-twelve-eleven]

I’ve Had Enough P2 - Rafe Cameron

caution: rafe x reader, crying, talking about drug abuse, drug addiction, kinda toxic relationship, children, swearing

a/n: HELLO ONCE AGAIN :) I saw one person say to make a part 2, so ta-da! we are here. im telling you, i didn’t want to make a part 2 (because i am lazy) but i have nothing better to do. my grammar and spelling can be poop at sometimes, so please bare with me :) 

a/n 2: IT HAS BEEN ALMOST A FUCKING YEAR SINCE I DID THIS STORY DJSLFAJLFLJDL WHAT. anyways im completing this so it gets off my “perfectionist list”.. *thumbs up*

Part 1  Part 3

words: 803

outline: rafe and you moved in together after your second child was born. but of course, rafe’s addiction didn’t ease up. in fact, it go worse. you finally broke out after having to deal with it for more than 2 years.

he’ll be fine, he’ll be fine.

you wanted to just leave, but your curious self had to see what rafe was doing. you turned around while still walking forward, but was only shown with the door slamming shut. you flinched, the sound echoing through the night sky. the sound led you to your own daughter’s cries, who was not dying down anytime soon. you shushed her tenderly, bouncing her slightly with your arm. you finally got to the car and grabbed your keys, unlocking the doors with the fob. you strapped your daughter into her car seat first, then went around to the other side to put spencer in. “it’s okay sissy, we’re going to see gigi!” He said, putting his hand out to touch marie. You shut the door and got in the car, turning it on. you backed out the driveway and drove out of your neighborhood. 

leaving him there all by himself made your heart ache, but it was for the total best. you loved him, even through his addiction. you cared for him as he cried into your shoulder, saying he needs to change and he wants to be better. you cared for him when he was too drugged out to even walk. after all, he was your children’s father. even though y’all were two different types of people, fire and water, you guys felt the love connection between you two. rafe knew inside him to run out there, apologize for everything, tell you he will get better, but he knew he couldn’t, the coke had got him. Even if he promised it, he knew that you wouldn’t believe him, just like the other millions of times he promised that he would get better. it took him in whole, giving him the high he needed. but it soon crashed him down, balling him up and throwing him into the garbage. 

You wiped the tears from your face, your mind running rampant. You were mad at yourself for acting that way infront of your children, your young young children who see you and rafe as role models. you didn’t want them to see who they shouldn’t be, screaming and fighting with their loved ones. the pain of just seeing their parents fight and act not-in-love, how they would see y’all in the future or even after today. but you were also mad at rafe, for speaking broken promises, for letting his children see him do drugs, drugs that could ruin your mind and ruin yourself overall. 

you turn into the ihop parking lot, identifying the car your mother drove. the roadtrip was long enough to quiet down both of your children, spencer glancing outside to window. you hopped out the car, grabbing both children. you walked in the restaurant, feeling your eyes burn. as you walked up to the person at the front, your mom immediately recognized you and ran up to you. “mom.” you breathlessly said as she wrapped you in her arms. “oh baby.” you dug your head into her neck, the tears pooling in your eyes. you stayed there for a moment before your mom took marie from your hands and y’all started walking toward the table your mother got y’all. you sat spencer down beside you and breathed out, a sort of relief being lefted off your shoulders. your mom was playing with marie, her soft giggles leaving her mouth. spencer leaned into you and your arm wrapped around him, happy to be away from rafe. “mom, i dont know if i can do this anymore.” you spoke up, her face turning towards you.

“his addiction isn’t getting better, he’s be doing it infront of our- our fucking children,” you started to break down at the end. sobs left your mouth as you continued to talk. “he uses our rent money- the money i make for us, makes a-a promise that he’ll quit, he’s said that everytime i caught him. i don’t want spencer and marie to see their father like this.” you cried out. your voice was shallow and tired, the effect of the screaming fit you just had 5 minutes ago. she let you speak, listening and thinking on what to say next. “you need to talk to him, y/n-” she began to say. “i have! i’ve tried! he just goes back to it the next day!” you exclaimed. “when he is sober, talk with him. if he gets loud, keep your cool.” you put your head into your hands, listening to her words. “he has to go to rehab, baby. there is no way around that.” you nodded your head, already planning out the words you will say to him. “you can stay at my house, dad’s gone on a work trip.” she smiled, playing with marie’s soft hair. “alright, i’ll do that.”

[enbies-and-felonies]

wooo one day of soberrrrr. i feel like shittt and i hurt and fucking all i wanna do is get highhh.

yknow ppl irl keep telling me that im addicted but i always am like "nahh. i could quit anytime" but like.

fuck man idk if i can be sober. i hurt so much and im sick and im dizzy and getting high is literally all i can think about rn. and bleh. i hate it here. i dont like being sober.

but whateverrrrr. just to say fuck you to the ppl who want to see me fail.

also i cant remember if i told you but i had a dream last night where my mom used my actual name and prns and that made me rlly happy until i woke up and remembered that she would never fucking do that.

xx❄️

i'm proud of you!!! i haven't texted The Guy and i deleted the conversation so i'm not looking at it :)) we both did something that was hard! but now you 🤝 me, we're both working on it and i'm proud of us <3

and YEAH *fuck* the people who want to see you fail <3

i'm sorry that your mom isn't accepting :/ i had a dream like that once and it hurt all the more to wake up and remember that it wasn't gonna happen. offering a hug if you want, or just some love if not <33

[ray-jaykub]

Helloo, wondering if you got any smutty requests, if not could you do a Raphael x read/oc/ whoever. Its been a few dates and they haven't run away, they invite him upstairs and things just continue on from there Maybe?

I'm so sorry this took so long, ive just been tired and im usually better at this and im sorry its so rushed :(

Warning: 18+ smut 

Recently Raphael had just got in a relationship, that despite his doubt had been going quite well. She was a friend of April's and when they were found out she seemed unafraid. Y/n was brave, and when put to the challenge of dealing with him and his three brothers, she dance around the problems with grace.

When michelangelo broke that pretty teapot she didn't shout at him or fuss. She smiled and told the boy she'd get a new one. Y/n would listen to Donatello ramble on and on no matter the subject, she'd make him feel understood. Leonardo would get controlling and she'd be patient and calm with him, wanting to listen. But with Raphael... you treated him like a whole other subject. The way you would hold his shoulder in comfort and it would linger. How you looked at him from across a room or spoke to him on a deeper level of connection. Anytime he was near or with you it was like a whole part of him had returned and fit perfectly in his side. The being together was easy. The talking and holding and just being was easy. The hard part was when you weren't together. Raphael never doubted your love, not in a million years, but the people out there that could whisk you away. The people who could give you a normal life and normal sex. Oh that was a fantasy. He'd lay at night just dreaming of you and your soft skin. Trying to mimick that sweet voice of yours in his mind and just wishing to feel you. Raphael could recount every single time you told him he couldn't come in your room. Every single time you told him you weren't ready. It hurt the first few times but with a better knowledge he understood. Now he sat here on your couch back in the present. Raphael had been in deep thought till your soft voice drew him out. "You ok?" He turned to look at you, the living room lamp making it cozy. You laid strewn out in pajamas with your hair still damp from the shower and feet propped on his thigh. A worried look adorned your features. "Yeah, just thinking," he was quite for a second wondering if what he wanted to say would be worth it. Raph felt a smooth hand on his shoulder and saw that you sat up to be closer. "Do you ever think about being with someone else?" Now you really looked confused. Going to hold his arm with both of your own and leave a warm kiss on his cheek. "No, because I'm with you. You make me happy." You sweetly smiled and your face held no lie for him to find but it didn't feel enough. Raphael stood and looked down at you. "How can you be happy with me? I can't take you anywhere, I can't give you nice things like dinner and dates," he turned to the window staring down at the streets. "I can't love you like any normal human..." he heard you shift on the couch behind him. "What do you mean love me normal?" You whispered. Like someone else was walking around in the house and you didn't want them eavesdropping. When he looked back he saw you were halfway off the couch, your eyebrows furrowed. "I mean... that I'm not exactly what every girl looks for in their magazines." Raphael had to lower his voice to control the distressed churr in his throat. You came to stand beside him and grabbed his hand. He took a deep breath as you both stared at the cars stuck in traffic, the lights shining against the many windows of Manhattan. You pulled at his hand to look at you. He saw something flickering in your eye, a determination he hadn't seen since you'd stare after eachother. It was a look of promise. "Let's go to my room." He had barely heard it but you pulling him had confirmed. Raphael was silent as you opened your door and sat him on your bed. All around him smelled like you, like the you he inhales everytime he holds you. Quietly the door was shut and you stood in between his legs, arms wrapped around his neck. Everything was at a standstill, the only sound being your light breathing. "Raphael, I love you," you went to kiss his left eyelid, "and I don't care about dinners..." the right eyelid, "or dates..." his lip scar. "I just care about being with you and holding you." You finally kissed him, warm and gentle. Ten times sweeter then any kiss you had given him before. Instead of pulling back though, you went to deepen this kiss, biting on his lip. Your hands wandered over his shoulders and arms. His were on your waist and one in your wet hair, holding you against him. Raphael quickly opened his mouth to say something but you twisted your tounge with his and all he could do was groan. He realized that things were heading in a more erotic direction. How your breasts pressed against his plastron and how you tugged on his mask. You were drinking eachother in. Addicted to this wonderful taste. He couldn't take it anymore, gripping your hips and rolling you under him. His big hands went under your shirt and tugged down the cups of your bra. You had worked your hands down to his belt buckle, clumsy with your efforts. Raphael stood to take his shoes, armor and belt off. As soon as your pajama bottoms came off he nearly lost it. The jet black panties that clung to your ass in such a delicious way. You crawled till your back hit the headboard and gave him a look of need. Raph quickly followed, giving you another heated kiss as his hands palmed your ass. He couldn't believe he was finally able to lay with you, to feel the skin he's dreamed about for so long underneath him. To hear those high pitched whimpers in his ear and to feel you grind up on his hard on. Raph went to kiss down her neck while his hands groped your scalp and breast. "Fuck baby, I can't wait anymore." He stood on his knees and churred at the sight. Your hair was a curled mess and your shirt was crumpled. Raph could smell your arousal and that only turned him on more. He yanked your panties down and rubbed the inside of your thighs to coax you open. All the while you were panting and begging for him. This was all he ever wanted. A beautiful woman who wanted him and now he has it. He rubbed his thumb through your folds and started to circle your swollen clit. Biting his lip, he took his forefinger and circled your entrance, slowly stretching you out with his massive hand. You were bucking into his hand now, begging for him to let you cum. Raphael pulled his briefs down and grabbed his cock, pumping himself as he pleased you. He felt your silk walls tighten around his finger and your thighs shaked. Before you could reach your climax though he pulled away from you. The bed creaked under his weight as he bent down to give you another open mouthed kiss, the bulbous head of his dick fitting snuggly into your cunt. You moaned into his mouth and finally he hilted inside your soaking core. Raphael kissed your shoulders and collar bone, trying to calm himself down. It took you tugging at the tails of his mask to get him moving. The first thrust had both of you grasping for eachother. "Shit! R-raph god!" You clinched your eyes shut and you wrapped your legs around his feet. His thrusts were sharp and short, Raph's hips smacking against your ass. The heat pooled in his stomach fast and his thrust became staggered. Raphael knew he was about to finish, your were close too. Your eyes were unfocused and your head lolled back. He quickened his pace and felt your juices gush down his lap. You gripped the sheets and your mouth opened in a silent scream. You practically milked him as he came. He gripped your hips and kept you against him, grunting as he spilled into you. Raphael pulled out and went to lay beside you as you caught your breath. Turning to your side you tiredly smiled. "I love you." He smiled back, grabbing your hand in his.

[quintiliusheartripper]

3, 38, 39, 40!

3. 19 characters…soon to be 20 because ill be making quints son Winds Call during halloween.

38. Fond memories of going through tyria for the first time to get to level 80, constantly dieing during path of fire while my friend fought the bosses, and playing quint for the first time during christmas 🥺❤️

39. The three characters i play the most are:

Quint (I LOVE him and hes easiest for me to play and survive), Uriah(often with pact commander. I love playing scrapper and hes so cute to look at. Hes my baby), and lately Quints Son Shattered Summit who is a mirage and fun to play with. I kinda am a altoholic considering i make a diff character per elite :P

40. The nature of how they make money. Its something im not quite sure how to feel sometimes because i love playing the game anytime i want but i really dont like the black lion chests/BLC exclusives due to gambling addictions that can be easily exploited and i wish there was a optional subscription for idk gems so that anet had a more... Stable funding from its players

[make-me-imagine]

Hi there! Could I ask for ship with male from CM and LOTR (except Hobbits, please)? Im 5’8’’ female with pale skin and dark curls, which I struggle to accept as its my biggest insecurity when it comes to physical traits. Im INFP, stubborn, sarcastic and creative. Love making handmade gifts for people I care for and collecting books. Addicted to listening to music, chocolate and coffee. I’m afraid of spiders and ladybugs. Could you do 10 for LOTR and 2 for CM? Thank you!

Special 5k Ship Event (Read post if your going to request)

-

Enjoy! I hope they came out alright for you :)

Criminal Minds: 

I ship you with Reid. He would find you absolutely beautiful, and would tell you everything he loves about you anytime you are feeling insecure. Sometimes you are afraid that your stubbornness might push him away, but he finds it a bit endearing and would never let anything like that affect him, as he knows that he can be a bit of a handful himself from time to time. He also collects books, so anytime he buys one for himself he buys you at least one that he knows you would love to have. Also, his desk is lined with smaller gifts you’ve made him and he loves every single one so much.

Prompt 2: First Kiss

You walked side by side as you left the restaurant, having just parted from Derek and Garcia. Looking up towards the sky you let out a small yawn. 

“I’m kind of surprised you came” Reid began “I know you’ve been a bit overworked lately”

“Well I needed a break, and you know I love going out with you guys, especially you” you smiled, nudging him with your arm.

He smiled bashfully as he stuck his hands in his pockets “I’m glad you came”

You and Reid had gone out on a few dates, but had yet to make your relationship official. Both of you were just a bit too shy to do so.

“I saw that there’s gonna be a chocolate festival down town in a week or two, I thought you might wanna go with me”

“A chocolate festival?” you asked excitedly “That sounds awesome, I’d love to go!” you smiled happily at him.

His own smile widened at your reaction, his gaze fell to your lips as he admired you. Suddenly he reached out and grabbed your hand, stopping you from walking. You turned and eyes him quizzically.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“Oh, no, nothing, I just” he paused before smiling lightly “You’re beautiful when you’re excited”

You smiled sheepishly, looking down at your feet “Thanks Spencer”

“Uh, can I-” he stopped as you looked up at him “Can I kiss you?”

You paused, shocked yet excited by his question. You smiled at him before taking a small step closer “Yes. You can kiss me”

He smiled shyly as he pulled you closer to him. His nose brushed yours as he paused to look into your eyes. His eyes glanced down at your lips before he leaned slowly forward, connecting his lips with yours.

The kiss lasted a few second before he pulled away, making eye contact with you again. You two shared a smile before he pulled you into another kiss.

Lord of the Rings: 

I ship you with Legolas. He would find your appearance somewhat ethereal, and if you’re not an elf in this world, you should be. He finds that you have a somewhat calming effect on him, and he often seeks your council when he is frustrated. He dislikes that you are insecure, and though he doesn’t quite understand why you have insecurities, he never tries to talk down to you or make you seem stupid for them. 

Prompt 10: Secret Admirer

[[We’re going to pretend chocolate exists in middle-earth for this]]

It wasn’t long after your visit to Mirkwood that you suddenly found gifts placed at on the balcony of your room. First it was a single golden bloom, then a notebook with a cover etched with elvish poetry, after that it was a set of elvish books. Each one of these gifts was wrapped in a delicate golden ribbon. 

The gifts were amazing, but you wondered who would admire you so much as to leave them for you. What if it was someone whose feelings you could not return? You’d hate to break someones heart.

Or maybe, it was just an elvish custom? Probably not honestly.

These were the thoughts running through your mind as you wandered down the path outside of the forest. Maybe it was a courting ritual? But then why the secrecy?

“Y/n”

Your name was spoken so softly that you almost didn’t hear it over your own thoughts. Turning, you see your new friend Legolas smiling at you.

“Oh, hello Legolas” 

He walked toward you “Are you alright? You seem distracted”

You thought about telling him of the gifts, but quickly changed your mind. You had quickly grown fond of the blonde elf, very fond indeed. And if he were to think someone else was courting you, maybe that would stop whatever chance you had with him. If there as any at all. Unless...no. It wouldn’t be him.

“I’m alright” you smiled “Just thinking of home” 

“You miss it?”

“Some of if” you looked toward the forest “My family, friends, and the food, especially the chocolate”

“Chocolate?”

“Yes, it’s a sweet, desert like food, you can’t find it near here” you explained.

“I see” you and Legolas began walking side by side “Tell me more of your home”

~~[Time skip]~~

You had been in Mirkwood for over a month, and Legolas had been away for the last two weeks. He went off on some quest, not too far from your homeland. 

And surprisingly enough, you hadn’t received a gift from your secret admirer in that same amount of time. So, you deduced that either, it was one of the men who went with Legolas, or it was Legolas himself. 

You wanted it to be Legolas, was that wrong? You weren’t sure. Instead of focusing on that thought, you tried to focus on the fact that maybe it was one of the men that left with him. The more you hoped it was Legolas, the more disappointed you’d be if it wasn’t. 

After another day of these thoughts drifting around your mind, you returned to your room one late evening, not long after hearing the news of Legolas’s return. You wondered when you’d get to see him. As soon as you entered your room, a package on your balcony caught your eye.

As you walked out onto the balcony, you saw it was a small satchel, tied shut with the familiar golden ribbon that had been left behind on each previous gift. Carefully picking it up, you untied it. As the fabric fell open you were surprised to see several delicately wrapped pieces of chocolate.

Your conversation with Legolas from a few weeks prior flashed through your mind. Did this mean that it was really him?

As soon as you thought this, a voice startled you from behind “I hope they are the ones you enjoy”

Your head snapped in the direction of the voice. Your eyes met the familiar blue ones of the blonde elf. “Legolas” you breathed out. He smiled as he stood from his previous seated position on the side of your balcony. “It was you then. Leaving me these gifts”

“Yes” he responded, stopping in front of you “I was not sure how you would respond to my affections, so, I thought I would express them from afar. Until tonight that is” he spoke smoothly, though, he did so avoiding your gaze. It seems that even he got shy.

“I hoped it was you, but I thought myself foolish to think so”

He locked his eyes with yours “Why? Every elf in mirkwood would seek your affection if-”

“If?”

“If they had not known how I felt” he finished, glancing at the landscape “I made sure no one else would try” he chuckled at himself.

You looked down at the chocolates, before looking up again only to meet Legolas’s intense gaze as he took another step closer to you. 

“Since you said you hoped it would be me, leaving you these gifts, then I hope that means you return my affections?”

You smiled shyly at him “It does”

His own smile widened at your answer. Taking your hand in his he pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles “Then I will take that as meaning I can begin to court you” he let go of your hand before walking to the edge of your balcony.

“Court me?” you asked following to the edge as he began to climb over.

He looked up at you “Of course” he smiled “I intend to win you over completely” he finished, before quickly descending and disappearing into the night.