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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 20 hours ago

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Meet the Family 3

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your boss needs a last-minute favour for the holidays.(petite!reader)

Characters: Lloyd Hansen

Note: I'm feeling very Little Lies about this.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

"So this is the reason you missed Thanksgiving," a butter knife jabs in your direction as you poke at the white turkey meat; this? You look up then at Lloyd as he nearly chokes.

"Uh, yeah," he coughs behind his fist and swallows, "we were out of the country..."

"Yes, why would you bother to stay. No use in seeing your mother at the holidays, or the rest of your family," she reproaches.

"Mom," he groans.

"For ten years," William adds from his wife's side. "Now you show your face and you look as if you're eating rotten apples."

"No," Lloyd argues. "It's just... I'm busy and I don't get a lot of time away from work."

"We all have obligations," Gwenyth argues.

"Well, I took her away so I could propose," he explains as he presses his fork into the whipped potatoes. "And it worked out perfect, right? Cause now I can bring her to meet everyone."

Gwenyth hums flatly, "I suppose." She clicks her tongue and takes a healthy gulp of wine.

"So, Pixie," Lillian drawls from further down, "what do you do for work? Oh let me guess. A librarian?"

You don't let the suggestion bother you. You don't see it as an insult even if she says it like one. You shake your head.

"No, I--" you begin and Lloyd stomps your foot so you bite down on your voice.

"She is a corporate consultant. International corporation," he explains.

"Oh, wow, sounds busy," Gwenyth remarks.

"Yes, how will you have time for children?" Lillian challenges.

"I'm sure they'll find time to make them," Benson chortles over his snifter.

"Ben, please," William rebukes.

"We're focusing on the wedding before all that," Lloyd says.

You peer around as you chew your cheeks in frustration. You're annoyed by how they speak of you as if you're not even there, and so intimately. Yet, you don't have much to say for yourself. This whole facade is tiresome and you really don't care what they think about a made-up job. Or marriage, for that matter.

"That will be done with quickly," Gwenyth sniffs. "And she will need to quit that job if she wants to do her duty as your wife."

"I can handle a job and a husband," you blurt out.

The table quiets as if stunned that you can speak. You blink and Lloyd puts his fork down and touches your arm, "sweet pea--"

"I highly doubt you'd be marrying him for any other reason than that nest egg promised to him," Lillian scoffs. "You don't need to play a saint with us, darling. Marriage is a transaction in more ways than one; affection, money, sex--"

"Lilly," William warns and she laughs.

"Well?" She shrugs. "You do know, the wedding only guarantees a twenty percent payout. He needs an heir to get all of it." She pets her stomach smugly and smiles. "I can assure you it's well worth it. Once you meet Lorelai, you'll see."

"Oh? Maybe when you meet her, you'll consider being a mother too," Lloyd retorts.

"Excuse me?" Lillian snarls. "I love my daughter."

"Of course you so," he sneers. "I'm sure she feels all that love right now as she enjoys her turkey and carrots with the nanny."

"I can't have her around adults and alcohol. You can't possibly understand," she snaps. "And maybe it's better that you never do. I could never imagine you as a father, especially when you are such a child."

"Takes one to know one," Lloyd growls.

"Enough," William barks. "Both of you."

Ransom laughs loudly at the end of the table. Lloyd shifts and Lillian rolls her eyes. You sigh at your plate. You miss your family. For the first time in years, you truly miss them.

"What the hell are you laughing at, Hugh? The only reason you're here is because your grandpappy exiled you."

Linda gasps, "He's not exiled--"

"Oh, right, of course not, Lin, that's why you're here breaking bread with the peasants. That's what you called us at great grandmother's wake--"

"Lloyd, watch your mouth," William snarls. "Better yet, shut it."

Lloyd recoils in his chair and stiffens. His features sharpen then he lowers his chin and picks up his fork. His jaw is stone as he stirs the gravy into his potatoes. You wouldn't call him humbled, more whipped like a dog. These people make you feel something for him you never thought you could; sympathy.

"I don't care about money that much," you say. "It can't buy respect. Besides, I would never marry a man without a prenup. Whatever Lloyd has will remain his." You push your shoulders back as a yawn tickles in your throat. "At this point, he can keep you lot as well."

You stand up and take the cloth napkin from your lap. You fold it neatly, "Gwenyth, you can tell whoever cooked dinner that it was delicious. I appreciate you all having me but I'm going to go find a hotel and some peace." You step around the chair and push it into the table, "happy holidays."

You turn, your insides jittering. What are you doing? Where did that come from? You could say you're tired and not thinking straight, but honestly, you're just so repulsed by these people that your head could explode. They're lucky they only got a a few pieces of shrapnel.

You march out without looking back. Your cheeks tinge hotly with self-awareness. You've messed it all up. After years of harnessing your emotions under Hansen's thumb, you finally snapped. You blew it all.

"What she said," another chair scrapes as Lloyd speaks. "Mom, dad, good night."

You enter the hall and head for the entry way. You hear him beside you. You're still foggy with disbelief. It isn't until you sit to put on your boots that you notice Lloyd.

"I know, I'm done. Fired." You pull on your leather booties. "I'll take the severance and figure it out."

"I didn't say so," he says as he grabs a coat from the closet.

"Um..."

"You're completely right. We can't stay here. They're all a bunch of pricks and they wonder why I didn't come home for ten years," he pulls on his coat as he speaks. He pushes back his hair then smooths his mustache. "We're better off at the hotel. We'll sleep better there--"

"We? Lloyd, please. Stay with your family. I need space," you stand and reach past him for your jacket. "Besides, I booked a single queen and it's Christmas Eve."

"Queen's big enough. You're tiny--"

"Okay, no, no," you hiss. "It's not happening. Stay--"

"But I don't want to," he whines.

"Mr. Hansen," you say. "You're out of your mind."

"Well, after your blow up, I don't think I'm welcome," he puts his hand on his hip. "So this is your last chance to save your job. You made the mess, you clean it up."

"Me?" You exclaim.

He hushes you and step closer, "Pix, you already made a scene, let's not do the encore. I'm gonna grab my bags, alright?"

"You can't be serious." You say.

"Hey, I gotta play the loyal husband--"

"And why exactly is that necessary? Why couldn't you get one of those Tinder girls?"

"Woah, woah, come on, someone will hear you," he covers your mouth with his hand and you turn your face away with a blech. "Go warm up the car. We'll talk on the ride to the hotel."

You stare at him. He watches you, as uncertain as you've ever seen him. In the silence, you can hear the din in the other room.

"Always was such a baby," Lillian laughs venomously.

"He could've chosen someone without an iron spine," Gwenyth adds.

You grimace and throw your hands up, "fine, get your things."

"You're the best," he grabs your shoulders but before he can kiss you, you put your hand up to pinch his nose. He recoils and rubs the tip, "ow."

"No more of that," you say as you pull your keys out of your pocket. "Thank god I only had one glass of wine."

You stomp out the front door. The frigid winter air hits you like a bus. Once one even ground, the swirling snow flecks onto your shoulders and hair. Great, now you get to drive in the snow with an unwanted passenger.

You get in the driver seat and push the ignition. You turn on the heater and the heated seats. At least Hansen pays enough for the add-ons. Still, you’re not sure there’s any compensation equal to what you just went through.

You look over as the front door opens and closes. Lloyd rolls a giant suitcase with him, another smaller bag strapped on top, and a third in his other hand. You don’t move as you watch him descend the steps, easing the wheels over the edge one-by-one.

He comes down the long walk and jerks as his loafers slip on the icy pavement. It would be funny if you weren’t so damn exhausted. You steadies himself and continues on. You should get out and help him. You don’t.

You pop the trunk with the button. He loads in his bags as you check the rear view. He comes around the passenger side and pulls the door open. He lets out an obnoxious ‘brrrr’ as he drops into the seat next to you. You shift gears as he shuts the door.

“Ugh, I feel so much better getting out of there,” he says as he adjusts the seat, making room for his long legs.

“Why?”

“Um, why not? My family is the worst--”

“No, why did you drag me into this?” You ask as you lean into the wheel and squint over it. The dark, the snow, the unplowed roads, it’s like the universe can’t stop throwing you obstacles.

“You want the real answer or the nice answer?” He replies.

“Mr. Hansen,” you growl.

“Right, I had no other choice.”

“No other choice?” You repeat.

“Look, those long-legged beauties back home, they’re fun, but they don’t got much else going on. I needed someone who could play along,” he explains.

“Play along?”

“Yeah, I mean, you’re smart so--”

“I’m smart...”

“I wouldn’t hire you if you weren’t--”

“Jeez, wow, Mr. Hansen, thank you so much. You think I’m so smart, so you should know I’m smart enough to know better than to believe you. You think I’m desperate,” you turn slowly onto the next street. “You think I have nothing else going on.”

“No, that’s not--” he shifts in his seat.

“It’s exactly what you think,” you huff. “Well, I do. I have a flight in...” you pause and check the time on the dash, “five hours so when we get to the hotel, I’m going to sleep and you’re going to let me. Then I’m going to catch my flight and the curtain can be pulled on this whole theatre.”

“Your words, not mine. I don’t think you’re desperate.”

You don’t respond. You’re tired. He just can’t leave things alone. He always has to say something. You wonder if he was truly left to his own thoughts, if his head would combust.

“I’m actually impressed,” you says, “you held your own.”

“Sir,” you utter.

“It was good. Entertaining. I mean, all these years, you never once talked back to me but wow, that was... majestic, really. You didn’t even wait to see my mother’s face. Or my sister’s.”

“Your family is weird,” you blurt out. “Sorry, uh, I didn’t mean--”

“I mean, yeah, we probably are but I don’t really have anything to compare it to,” he says.

You nod. He has a point. Yet, while that horde of entitled brats might explain his personality, it can’t excuse it.

The hotel’s marquee shines like a beacon as you steer into the lot. You yawn and shut off the engine. You let yourself out and drag your feet around to the trunk. You take out your carry-on as Lloyd hovers at the other side.

“All of your stuff, out,” you say. “I’m going straight to the airport in the morning. Checkout is ten so as long your gone by then, I don’t care what you do.”

He’s quiet but he obeys. He takes his bags out and sets them on the ground. He pulls the rolling bag and slings his smallest bag on his shoulder. You snap the trunk shut and turn, shuffling across the icy tarmac.

You enter through the automatic doors and cross the desolate lobby. You check in with your ID but as you look for your credit card, Lloyd flicks his between his fingers and offers it up to the clerk.

“It’s on me,” he insists.

You won’t argue. You really don’t trust him to leave by checkout. As you head for the elevators, he takes a deep breath. He doesn’t speak until you’re behind the sliding doors of the compartment.

“You know, I’m still your boss so you can’t just order me around,” he says.

You glance over at him. “Right, won’t happen again, sir.”

“It could have been worse, you know? I could’ve actually had you come all the way out here just to drop off some gifts. If you think about it, you got a free dinner and some wine--”

“Yeah, it was a great time,” you say dryly. “Mr. Hansen, I’m too tired to lie any more. Tonight was one of the worst nights of my life so no, I don’t think it could be worse.”

The doors open and you stride out. You swipe the card at the door corresponding to the number written in the folio and let yourself in. He follows closely, nearly running over your heels with his suitcase.

You take your bag to the bed and take out the cotton pajamas stuffed inside just for tonight. You bring them with you into the bedroom, doing your best to ignore your guest. Lloyd wanders along the wall and finds his way to the mini fridge.

You’re in no rush to change, only to get to bed. You trade your dress and stockings for the cotton two-piece and emerge. You shove your bag and clothes beside the night table and slide under the blankets. You pull them up to your shoulders.

“They got wine, tequila, beer--”

“I’m going to sleep,” you insist.

“The alcohol will help.”

“No, it will make waking up even harder.”

“After tonight, I think you need a shot.”

“Mr. Hansen,” you grumble and cover your head.

“Fine, more for me.” He snickers.

You’re happy he can’t see the irritation on your face. You might just be better off to let him drink whatever. Eventually, he’ll have to pass out. At least, you can only hope he does.

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #series #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #meet the family #the gray man

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lucy90712 · 1 day ago

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Heyyyy ♡♡♡♡♡♡

Could I request a headcanon on the boys ( whoever you want) giving reader the orincess treatment?

Gavi:

- He has always treated you like you'll disappear if he doesn't give you the best which of course he should do regardless but he always goes above and beyond because he wants you to feel like he's treating you like a princess at all times

- He does everything to make sure he's the best boyfriend you've ever had and hopefully good enough to be your last he's very good at it too he never takes you for granted and always makes sure he makes time for you especially when he knows you need him most

- You are his passenger princess

- Once he had his license you were the first person he took out in his car he came straight from doing his test to your place to pick you up and take you somewhere he doesn't even have anywhere to go but he just drives around

- Now that he can drive he won't have you driving him or yourself anywhere if he can help it he drives you to your classes and to see your friends purely because he loves driving you places as he gets to listen to you sing along to whatever playlist he plays in the car and he can hold your hand or have his hand on your thigh which he really enjoys as he loves to savour little moments like that

- He absolutely loves late night drives and he will always bring you along with him as he drives to somewhere that he can park the car and you guys can just enjoy the scenery and he can just stare at you as you look better than the view to him anyway

Pedri:

- He was raised to always respect women and as soon as he got his first girlfriend his parents made sure he knew how to treat her even though he was young and that has only been drilled into him more as he's got older so he has always been a gentleman and treated women well

- Because of this he has never given you anything but the best although he never thinks of it that way he's just treating you like he was raised to do but for you it feels so amazing to be almost worshipped by him as all your last boyfriends have done the bare minimum at most

- Pedri always likes to make sure you are doing well as when you get stressed or overwhelmed you aren't yourself and he loves the not stressed you so he tries his best to make sure you never get to that point and you are always smiling as he loves your smile

- When you have a busy week Pedri will get come over to your place every night and cook dinner for you or at least attempt to as he wants to know that you have at least one proper meal each day when you have a lot going on he will also take over some of your chores as he knows you hate living in a messy place and it will just stress you out more

- You are always so thankful for what he does for you but he never accepts anything in return because he knows that you will do the same for him when he is schedule gets busy and you have many times

- When you live together none of this will change Pedri cares so much about you that he never wants to see you suffer when he help so even if he has a match that takes up most of his day he will still check in on you as he thinks that's the only right way to treat you

Jude:

- Jude treats you like a queen at all times because he knows that he should treat his girlfriend that way and because if he didn't his parents would kill him they have always taught him to be caring and treat others well especially friends and girlfriends

- He always thinks that you deserve the world as you deal with so much like him not being around much, the constant media attention and all the negative comments on social media which he knows gets to you even though you say it doesn't

- Obviously he can't change his schedule or what people say so instead he tries to make it up to you in any way possible which often involves spoiling you which he is lucky enough to be able to afford to get you anything you could possibly want

- You are always telling him not to get you things but he does it anyway as he knows that you don't like to spend your money on unnecessary things for yourself so he does it instead because what's the point of earning the amount of money he does if he can't use it to spoil you

- When you move to Madrid to live with him he gets you a brand new car as you can drive but you've only ever had old half broken cars so he gets you your dream car which you say is so that you won’t embarrass him if you drive him to training but really he just wants you to have the best

- He also uses all his breaks to take you to the places you've always wanted to go he has a list of places you've said you want to visit so when he has some time off he picks somewhere off the list and books the plane tickets he loves doing this as he loves nothing more then seeing the smile on your face when you are exploring

Joao:

- Joao knows how to treat a woman right and he’s been in long term relationships so he’s pretty good at it but after his last relationship he blames himself for not being a good enough boyfriend to her and not doing enough so he’s determined to not make the same mistake again

- You always try and tell him that he wasn’t the reason his last relationship ended and that he’s more than good enough for you but still he insists on treating you like you are the only girl left on earth which obviously you love as he makes you feel so special

- One of the many things that makes Joao a great boyfriend is that he knows you better than you know yourself at times he can pick up on when you are stressed and can help you before you have a breakdown and he just seems to always know how you are feeling without you telling him

- To him being a good partner and treating you like a princess involves being attentive to your emotional wellbeing as well as your physical wellbeing because he’s been through hard time with no one to support him and he’s determined not to let that happen to you so whenever something bad happens he will be the one to be by your side and let you cry or listen to your feelings

- Your relationship is very equal so all of your problems are his and vice versa that way you both always have someone to lean on when you need support as he didn’t have that in his last relationship which ultimately led to some of the downfall

- Joao wants nothing more than to be the best partner he can be for you as he knows you deserve the best so even if at times he doesn’t think he’s enough he always tries his best and that’s what attracted you to him in the first place as all you care about is the fact that he’s trying as that’s all you can really ask for

#gavi x reader #gavi imagine #gavi #pedri imagine #pedri x reader #pedri #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham #joao felix imagine #joao felix x reader #joao felix #football imagine

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therapyandprozac · 2 days ago

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Title: Daddy

Rating: Explicit Smut

Warnings: Daddy kink ofc, Edging, Teasing, Praise kink, Toys, Light BDSM

Words: 1.2k

I didn’t add a name so this is for any fandom or character you wish! (is there a word for this?)

Posted before I could think too much about it 🙈 enjoy ☺️

“Can we talk about something?”

“Yes, love!” He smiles and focuses his attention on you. You blush, you’ve been practicing this conversation in your head for days but you still instantly turn bright red. Doing everything to avoid eye contact you cover your face with your hands. “Wow baby, look at that blush!” He says pulling your arms away from your face, you pull them back to you. However, he’s substantially stronger than you are and easily exposes your face. “What is it?” A huge smile crosses his face.

“I umm,” you start. He guides you to taking a few breaths and staring at the couch. “Well, we’ve been together for a while. We’ve talked about and have done…stuff…” You feel yourself turn into a tomato again as he smirks.

“We have indeed done ‘stuff.’” He laughs.

“What do you want me to call you?” You ask, squeezing your eyes shut.

“What do you mean love?” He asks, trying to understand your vague question.

“Like umm, like daddy or sir or something.” You pause and he stays quiet. Your heart races and you jump into a mini rant. “I just the last time we-, you were very…I don’t know...in character and I wanted to call you a title but I didn’t know which of them, if any, you wanted.” You rattle off incredibly fast before being abruptly stopped by the softest lips you’ve ever felt. A familiar feeling of the anxiety of finishing the question, waves away like a rolling tide, the only thing you needed was for him to respond.

“That,” His voice is deep in an almost growl as he continues. “Is an excellent question. No need for blushes or hiding, you can ask me anything without worry, my love.” He cups your cheek. “Which do you prefer?” He asks, his voice coated in velvet. You blush even deeper and look back at the couch quickly. He raises an eyebrow and repeats the question. You don’t answer, way too embarrassed. He waits a few beats before continuing “Would it help if I told you my favorite?” He whispers against your mouth.

You nod rubbing your nose against his. His pupils flutter as he leans forward and bites your ear gently. “Daddy.” He growls. His voice has a that sultry gravel that he only gets when he’s about to fuck you until you can’t walk. You moan and grind against nothing. He takes that as a sign and grabs you so you’re straddling him.

“You’re so hot when you’re too embarrassed to talk. You talk to people for a living, doll.” He nuzzles and kisses your neck as a blush covers your chest and cheeks. “But when you’re here…with me. You can barely put two words together.” You reach your hand down and palm him through his jeans, his breath quickens and he groans.

“Bed?” You whimper. He nods and follows you up the stairs to your room. Stripping along the way, once you get to the room you’re both completely naked. He pushes you against the door, he puts his thigh between your legs for you to grind against. You moan and whisper “Please…daddy,”

“Yes?” He says as if you aren’t coming undone on his leg.

“Please fuck me, god I need you.”

“As you wish.” He says and tosses you on the bed before he kneels in front of your glistening pussy. He gently runs his tongue up the entirety of your cunt. He toys with your clit making you squirm and beg for more. Quick flicks and slow licks, you love how he takes his time and savors every gasp and whine. He slowly puts two long, thick fingers inside, you groan and roll your hips. He plays your body perfectly massaging your g spot and clit with his thumb. All the while taking each of your hands and cuffing them to the bed. He brings you so close with rhythmic, well practiced precision before rapidly pulling his fingers out of you.

“Nope not yet,” he stands up, licking his fingers and smirking. “I am quite proud of you.” He opens a box with a ribbon on it and pulls out a big pink…something. He’s far away but all questions resolve when you hear the vibrations. He turns around delicately playing with the shaking, not so delicate object in his hands as he continues.

“I’m sure that question was burning in your brain for a while, wasn’t it.” You nod. “I can’t hear you, my sweet thing.” He says in a gentle sing-songy voice (think moriarty) as he walks slowly toward you.

“Way too long.” You whimper, already a desperate mess.

“I can hear you pacing, in the elevator at work…” He steps closer and massages the rumbling toy in his hand.

“You mumble under your breath, rehearsing it in the tub, the car…maybe even our last few times.” You instantly blush so deeply. “Hmm that looks like a yes.” You go to cover your eyes but you're stopped by the cuffs.

“Was daddy your favorite too?” You nod frantically with needy groans. Watching his hands get closer to your cunt, he stops and turns the vibratior off.

“Why?” You whine.

“There’s your beautiful voice!” He exclaims. “When I ask you questions,” he runs his fingers gently up from your legs, across your stomach, between your tits and up your neck, placing it finally and firmly to the side of your head to balance himself steadily above you.

“It’s because I want to hear your answers, doll.” He leans in and rests just above your lips, you feel his breath on your lips. “So I ask again, what was your favorite one?” He whispers, the faint minty and familiar feeling of him talking into your mouth washes over you. You smile under his lips and gather all of the brat and (something)) energy you’ve pent up, sass laced tongue and with direct eye contact.

“Daddy.” The smugness falls from your face when you hear the vibratior turn on. A dark and twisted semi sadistic smile covers his face. He breathes in the moment time feels stopped while he looks you over. Light perspiration and pleading eyes, he loves teasing and gentle mind games with his desperate little plaything.

“Mmm, that's my girl.” His voice runs across gravel as he pins the toy to your clit. You cry out and immediately hold your breath to silence yourself. “Breathe baby!” You gasp and when you catch your breath you muffle yourself again and groan under your voice.

“For the love of,” he pulls the toy away and you whine. He taps your clit with the device making a rhythm of whines and groans spill from you. He goes on too long just teasing and taunting…edging you. He hasn’t edged you in so long.

“Oh god yes please, more daddy please please!!”

“Yes, beautiful sweetheart,” he whispers and bites your ear lobe, continuing his tormenting of your clit. You moan and pant heavily, after one deep breath and turning the vibrator to its max setting, you’re so so close, teetering on the edge until he groans against your ear. “Cum for me, my sweet girl.” Your brain snaps and you cum loudly with your nails digging into his skin a little of his blood runs under your nails. You nearly wail as the first orgasam of a very long night rips through your body.

#fanfic #bucky barnes #smut #sebastian stan #marvel #dean winchester smut #marvel fanfic #dean winchester #daddy k!nk #praise k!nk #loki smut #pedro pascal smut #light dom/sub #bd/sm kink #bucky barnes x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester comfort

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osakhee · 10 hours ago

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never enough, virgin!wonbin x reader

! endurance training, handjob, overstimulation, edging, slight dacryphilia

note : FINALLY something is done with the virgin wonbin thoughts ive been having for a week ..... 🙂‍↕️

"can i please at least be inside just once?"

"nope. not until you can hold it better."

"you always say that... i've done well the last time, when will it be enough?"

"it will never be enough. not until i say so."

wonbin lays back on his seat with a pout. he's glad the bus is mostly empty so no one can catch a glimpse of your conversation. you both sit at the far back of the bus, away from all the people going home at this hour. wonbin looks outside the window just to be met with the heavy droplets that pour outside, and he turns his head to look at you. he's still sulking, and the serious glare you throw at him makes his heart jump in his chest.

wonbin is your classmate. actually, he's more than that, but you like the "classmate" title, even though the boy doesn't think the same. he'd rather call your relationship "friends with benefits but he's the only one getting benefits". when at school, wonbin is all talk about how good he's in bed, he laughs at his male friends for being virgins at their age. he has the pretty face to make anyone believe his words, but little do they know he actually turns into a puddle when you get your hands on him. you wanted to see for yourself how good he is, he's handsome, and since he said he fucks well, why not? but when you dragged him behind the lockers, wonbin turned into a blushing mess, he didn't even know where to put his hands when you kissed him. he was moaning in your mouth in no time, so hard in his pants he felt like he could burst only from your lips that left his to pepper kisses on his jaw. he begged you not to tell anyone, so instead, you exposed you plan to him. he loses his virginity, and you get to fuck him and with him.

wonbin had no idea at first that fucking with him would mean hours of playing with his cock and nipples, jerking him off so slowly it would make his thighs tremble everytime your fingertips touched his skin. you asked him to keep the count, but he can't recall how many times you made him cum anymore. each time, he would be a shaky and whiny mess, he'd beg you to finally give him what he wants. you always promised it for next time, and thinking of the reward of being inside of you always made him harder than ever.

but now it's been weeks since you started to play with him. wonbin is over at your home almost everyday, and he's never getting his way. the way you would taunt him to reveal his little secret always made him comply and fall to his knees so you could stick your thumb in his mouth until he's drooling all over it.

the bus that's taking you and wonbin home finally reaches your stop, and you take the boy's hand to get down. to anyone, you would probably look like a cute couple walking back from school together. but the grip you have on wonbin's wrist and the tension he's feeling all over his body say otherwise. he can already feel the warmth painting his cheeks red and the anticipation building in his lower stomach. you both walk in silence until you reach your apartment. when the door opens, wonbin doesn't even wait for you, he gets inside and walk straight to you room. he wouldn't want to mess up his routine. you take your time, put down your jacket and bag before joining him.

wonbin sits on your bed with large puppy eyes, he's still upset at how harsh you were to him on the bus. he can't tell you how much it turns him on, or you'll have another reason to mess with his head, his secrets getting heavier each time you see each other. you walk to the bed and let your hand travels his face, from his jaw to his pretty lips, your fingers mess with his hair. you tug on his locks lightly to make his head fall back and give you a prettier view of his neck, his smooth skin almost perfect under your hungry lips. wonbin sighs heavily at the contact of your warm mouth, he grips the sheets in his hands, his legs rub together to get some frictions on his clothed dick.

you get away from his skin and push him down on the bed, his back gently hitting the blanket. wonbin knows what's next. his hands reach the hem of his shirt before taking it off, he then hurriedly opens his pants to get rid of any clothes that stops his cock from finally breathing. he doesn't care being naked in front of you anymore, he's used to your eyes burning his body when you look at him. wonbin takes a deep breath when he slides his underwear down, his already red and leaking dick hitting his stomach. you sit next to him and watch it twitch with anticipation, wonbin is almost moaning just from your warm presence next to him.

"are you ready?"

"if i do well, can i finally fuck you next time?"

"depends on how long you last today."

wonbin rests his head on the bed, his chest heaves with his sharp breaths. you let your fingers travel his faintly toned stomach and wonbin already squirm under your touch, shivers covering his whole body. your nails graze his skin down his thighs, his cock drips some more precum when you get so close to it. you could watch him for hours and drive him crazy, your hands massaging his inner thighs enough to have him cum untouched. with one finger, you draw slow circles on his lower stomach, going all the way up his length and rubbing his slit, his arousal quickly coating your finger. you lay next to wonbin and wrap your hand around his dick, your mouth finds one of his nipple and you suck eagerly on it.

the boy on your bed is already a moaning mess, his back arches on the sheets and his hips buck into your hand to get any kind of friction, but you stay completely still, only giving attention to his chest. your tongue twirls around his hardened pink bud, it makes wonbin cry out your name. he claws at the bed desperately for more, and after one more kiss on his chest, you sit up next to him again. you finally give attention to his cock that's calling for you, and stroke him at a dangerously slow pace. wonbin tries to steady his breath as much as he can, his eyes closed and concentrated on the pleasure you give him.

it doesn't take long to break him apart though. once you start paying more attention to his leaking tip, his hips jerk up constantly in your hand and you have to pin him down. the cries that come out of his throat are broken by your name rolling on his tongue over and over again. the way his thighs are shaking when you pick up the pace tell you everything you need to know. you give wonbin one more stroke before letting go of his dick. his knuckles turn white from how hard he's holding the covers under him, his cock twitches desperately. you rub your thumb on his slit and wonbin's back arches again on the bed.

"stop moving so much, that's how you get tired so fast."

"p-please.... give me m-more..."

"you will cum so fast thought."

"i won't i-i swear i won't please keep g-going..."

you want to believe wonbin's weak promise and you wrap your hand again around his length. you watch him close his eyes again and put all his willpower in stilling his hips for you. you give him lazy strokes again, your hand covered in the sticky precum that keeps rolling down his cock. you rest your other hand on his thigh and he jumps in your touch, his lips parting in a silent moan. for a while, only the wet sound of your palm around his dick and his heavy breathing can be heard in your room.

since you started your little training with wonbin, he never really got better, he would always cum awkwardly fast especially if you started teasing him. he lasted longer the last few times though, and you couldn't wait to have him inside of you and feel him filling your insides after a few thrusts. you loved watching him cry out your name each time he ended up fucking your fist, his hips desperately bucking up to meet your hand after you edged him for hours so he can finally gets the sweet release he's begging for.

every once in a while, you leave wonbin's cock to watch him from your place, you sit crossed legged on your bed and smile at the boy's desperation. his black hair stick to his forehead and his chest shines with a thin coat of sweat, his hands weakly rest next to him as he got tired from holding the sheets so tightly. beads of precum form on his slit and roll down his cock or drop on his lower stomach. it stains your bed, it makes your hand sticky and wet, and it gives shivers to wonbin each time you blow on his dick with a chuckle.

it's always when wonbin is the less ready that you start to jerk him off again, you barely listens to him as he speaks about his day so his mind would focus on anything but his throbbing cock. you grip his dick out of nowhere and hear his breath catch in his throat. his thoughts get lost in the pleasure, unable to form a single word but the desperate "please" that escapes his lips over and over again. you pout at his sensitivity and you tighten your grip around him, your palm very slowly making its way up and down.

"are you close already?"

"mmhh... p-please..."

"can you hold it a little longer? just a little."

"i'm n-not... not sure... it's s-so..."

"just a little more, i know you can do it."

wonbin hides his face in the sheets when you quicken your pace, his hips buck up again in your hand and you instantly let go of his cock. wonbin's head jerks up to look at you with a pleading whine, only for his head to drop back when you flatten your hand on his tip. his back arches and his hands find their way in his hair to push away the strands that cover his eyes. your palm rubs the sensitive head of his cock, wonbin's breath gets more erratic and louder. you give him a few pumps and check your phone that sat next to you on the bed. he's actually handling it well, probably the best he has done yet, but it's still not enough for you. you just want to make sure he could last when fucking you, you're just helping out! you feel wonbin's dick pulse in your hand and you stop all your movements again to squeeze it. his voice breaks into a high pitched cry, the tears that had been filling his eyes finally flowing down his cheeks. it's always been your favorite sight, he's such a wreck when you get your hands on him and he's never been more beautiful to you. you massage his thighs and from the way his cock throbs constantly, you can tell he's so close just a touch could make him burst.

"p-please... i'm gonna- i w-wanna cum please... i n-need to cum s-so bad..."

"hmm... you've done well... but it's not enough you know that."

when you start stroking him again, you see his head dig into the mattress and deep in the blanket, his fingers clawing at the sheets, his parted lips let every moan escape his throat. you can't tell if his cheeks glisten because of the sweat or because of his tears that roll down his face and down his neck.

"you know wonbin... i might just let you fuck me next time..."

"a-ah please... i-i'm cumming p-please i'm c-cumming..!"

you jerk him off faster and watch the ropes of hot and thick fluid hit your fingers and his tensed stomach, you make sure to grip his tip through his orgasm that has his thighs shaking. his hips stutters in your fist until he weakly shoots one last drop of cum on your hand. wonbin tries to get away from you and your teasing hand that keeps playing with his sensitive cock, he turns to the side and burry his whines in the sheets, he can't control the desperate thrusts of his hips until you finally let go of him. you check your phone again while wonbin catches his breath, he sniffles audibly when he finally sits up next to you. you look at his messed up face and push away gently a few strands of hair that stick to his forehead, your hand then resting on his cheek so you can wipe away his tears. wonbin looks at you with shining hopeful eyes that could make you melt.

"did i- did i do well? d-did i hold it long enough?"

"you know it's never enough to me... but you did well, i might actually let you inside me next time. you'll do well this time too, right?"

wonbin's cock weakly twitches at your words and the smile he gives you have you burning inside. maybe he could actually hold it when he fucks you. you couldn't wait.

im crazy wonbin is all ive been thinking about for the past few days im CRAZYYYYYY thank you cee for supporting me through the wonbin breakdown

#riize smut #wonbin smut

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emeritusemeritus · 1 day ago

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hi lovely, can i make a request? reader and fred are together. readers father recently passed away and it's readers first christmas without her dad, she goes missing and fred is frantically looking for her and he finds her at the top of the astronomy tower just before midnight and it ends with them saying merry christmas to each other? mainly fluff and protective

Hi dear Anon! I hope I did okay with this request and that you enjoy! If this is specific to your real life situation then I’m sending you my biggest condolences and a warm wintery hug, or if it’s just a request then you can still keep the hug! 🖤

Warnings: mentions of death (readers father), grief, sadness, Fred being an incredible boyfriend, protective Fred. Not beta read nor spellchecked.

Word count: 1.9k

Merry Christmas Baby

You'd done so well all day, even if you had stretched yourself beyond your means; masking up to your eyes until you couldn't pretend to be fine anymore.

You'd made it through the morning, through waking up alone in your dormitory, your other dorm mates all spending Christmas at home with their families whilst you remained at school, practically homeless and without a whole family to return to. You'd bathed, gotten dressed and had spent an hour in quiet contemplation in your room before making your way down to the common room.

Beyond Harry and the Weasleys who were staying at school over Christmas, there were very few other students that remained, meaning that you practically had the Gryffindor common room and the entire school to yourselves. The elves had prepared an even more lavish feast than usual and you'd happily eaten the meal until you were full to bursting. You sat beside Fred, his hand entwined with yours in a silent form of support as you joined in with the jokes and the laughter as a form of escape from your grief.

You knew staying at school was the best option, though some could argue it was only running away from your problems, the first Christmas without your dad was easier to face indirectly from the comfort and familiarity of your school and your friends.

After dinner you'd all waddled back to the common room with belts and trousers loosed and collapsed in various chairs around the room. The fire was lit and it was calm, with most of the other attendees having a mid-afternoon snooze after their dinner but you couldn't seem to nod off. You stared into the fire for a while, watching the flames rise and fall, the flickering shadows projected around the room that danced with the flames. Fred was lightly snoring against your shoulder as you lay draped over him at his insistence, his long legs acting as the perfect stool for your own. Your shoes had been long since pulled off as you lazed about, thankful for the warmth of the fire. There were so many things you were thankful for this year, trying to remain positive despite the dark thoughts threatening to intrude upon your day, always in the back of your mind like a dark cloud hanging overhead. You were thankful for Fred and George, for your friends, for the school that you loved so much, for your magical abilities and for the family that gave them to you. You were thankful for the years spent with your dad and thankful that you had somewhere to go this Christmas knowing that home was no longer an option.

It was early evening when various people began to wake from their Christmas siestas, with George waking first and Fred following in almost alarming synchronisation. The rest of the night was spent playing chess and exploding snap, occupying yourselves in whatever way you wanted. You felt yourself slipping into yourself more and more throughout the evening, with less input to conversations, your laughter decreasing until you were barely chuckling even at the funniest of quips. At first you were perplexed by your sudden low mood, thinking that perhaps your social battery had run low but it wasn't the case at all, you wanted your friends around you. It was inevitable really that your sour mood would finally take over, the undeniable thoughts of grief, of sadness, wouldn't be able to be held back forever. You suddenly felt claustrophobic in the cozy common room, surrounded by too many people and too much happiness that you were inevitably going to bring down the mood by staying.

You looked at Fred, seeing that he was currently occupied in a rather intense battle of exploding snap with Ron, briefly checking around the room for anyone else paying attention to you before you grabbed your shoes and slipped away. You walked out of the portrait hole and out to the corridor, placing your shoes on and walking aimlessly around the castle. The portraits wished you merry Christmas as you walked past and you offered them festive greetings in return, just wishing that you could slip away unnoticed without having to interact with anyone either in person or in portrait.

You curse yourself for not bringing a jacket with you as you walk out of the doors into the courtyard, seeing a thin sheet of ice and snow on the ground that once seemed to make it look more beautiful, more magical. You hugged your arms tighter to yourself, fighting back an involuntary shiver as you made your way around the courtyard without any specific destination in mind. You felt better at escaping the common room, taking some time away to allow those thoughts and feelings to surface in private. The last thing you wanted to do was cause a scene, or bring down anyone's good mood and good time, which they so rightfully deserved. You let the slew of tears finally come as if right on cue, your father's face occupying your mind completely as you think of past Christmases, of past memories with him that you'd never get to experience again.

Back in the common room, Fred celebrates his landslide win over Ron who sits back in his chair with a face like thunder, arms crossed like a petulant child at losing to his older brother. George cheers and celebrates with his twin as he scoops up the two sickles that he'd won from Harry in their bet. Fred turns to find you, confused at the lack of cheers he hears from your mouth, his constant cheerleader, but finds your seat no longer occupied. He frowns, looking around the room in hopes of spotting you but doesn't see the figure he is so familiar with.

"Gin, have you seen y/n?" He asks his sister as she walks down the steps from the dorms and bathrooms. She shakes her head with a slightly confused look, eyes whipping around the room just as Fred's had moments before.

"Can you."

"On it," she replies with a nod, cutting him off already anticipating his question as she turns on her heel to go back up the stairs. When she returns a few minutes later, she gives Fred a definitive shake of her head and momentarily considers that this is the first time that she's ever seen him look so concerned over anything. His eyes are full of worry and anxiety, body rigid but fidgety as he paces the length of the room, mind working overdrive to where she might have gone. He shouldn't have been so stupid leaving her alone whilst he played his game, knowing that the day was undoubtedly going to catch up to her.

"I've got to find her," he says to no one in particular as everyone watches him exit through the portrait hole and disappear. He runs down the corridors, not listening to the portraits that shout at him to slow down, to not run in the hall, the only thought in his mind being you. He searches all your usual places, even making his way to Hagrid's hut only to find that you hadn't been there all day. With each place he looked and didn't find you, he grew more frantic until he was almost sprinting to the next place, quickly running out of options. He stopped in the courtyard to catch his breath, watching the steam pour out of his mouth from the frozen air around him. The bell rang out to signal that it was midnight and he felt completely defeated and upset at the fact that your Christmas Day had ended exactly as he didn't want, with you feeling alone.

Only when he'd resorted to returning to the common room in the hopes of your return, did a faint but present light flicker from the top of the astronomy tower, making him realise that he hadn't checked there. He bolted quickly, his feet leading the way with his head lagging behind slightly, spiralling thoughts filling his mind with each step closer. He climbs the spiral staircase with deep heaving puffs falling from his lips, the physicality of his chase now catching up to him. He pauses briefly, seeing the figure of you through the slats of the wooden floor and exhales a sigh of relief, head dropping on his shoulders momentarily. He doesn't want to scare you, to catch you off guard especially in your emotional state and so he ensures his ascend up the stairs is as loud as possible, old worn trainers banging on the stairs with every tread.

He watches as you turn towards him as he steps off the staircase and onto the platform with you, a soft, calming smile on his face. He remains silent as he creeps forward, moving to sit beside you on the floor without any words spoken. He notes how cold and unrelenting the floor beneath his arse feels and a frown appears between his brows, thinking of how long you must have been sat here. His hand takes yours and he frowns deeper at how cold you feel to the touch, both of his hands wrapping around yours to try and give you any warmth he can of his own.

He doesn't know what to say that hasn't already been said, something that would fix the hurt and help to comfort, but nothing comes to his mind. He's always been an actions kind of man, with George taking care of the more sensitive words, and right now he's wishing he had his twin's gentleness.

When he feels your head shift to rest on his shoulder, he knows that he's doing something right. He rests his chin on the top of your head and you sit there for a few moments with nothing spoken between the both of you, the only noise being the gentle whistling of the wind as it whips past the astronomy tower.

"Freddie," he hears to say quietly and adjusts his head so that he look down towards you. You look like you'd been crying, your eyes rimmed with a pink hue that matched the shade of pink on the top of your nose. The pink around your eyes only seems to make your eyes more vibrant, the colour astounding Fred as he looks upon your face. "Thank you. For today, for everything really. I know you didn't go home just to stay here with me."

He blushes under the praise, your grateful words affecting him more than he shows. Truthfully, he had chosen to stay at school during Christmas for you, not wanting you to be alone wherever you were, knowing that there was no such thing as home for you right now. George had naturally decided to stay with Fred and Ron hadn't wanted to leave Harry in the first place, leaving Ginny who didn't want to be left at home without her siblings.

There's nothing to be said. Fred for once remains silent, his actions doing the talking for him. His right hand slips from yours and he pulls it around you to wrap you in his heat, pulling you close to his body. He senses a calmness in you now, head no longer filled with only sad thoughts. You look like you're coming out of your negative headspace, the hint of a smile tugging at your lips as you snuggle down into his jumper.

"Merry Christmas Fred."

It's the only thing that needed to be said in the moment, a fine summary of your gratitude, your thankfulness and of your love for him.

"Merry Christmas baby."

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delphi-shield · 15 hours ago

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a little dream of me

Leon Kennedy x Reader x Jill Valentine Fluff wc: ~1.8k

pics from @/thisdastampdoesnotexist. gif from @/onlyasimp4-2dbitches, dividers from @/adornedwithlight

who else is up romanticizing the mundane⁉️ (<- bone crushingly lonely) this has been in my drafts forever and I was finally appropriately sleepy enough to finish it. used this fic to get back into the swing of things so it may be a lil clunky

content: fluff without plot. midday naps. established poly relationship (jill/reader, leon/reader, jill & leon). minor relationship squabbles. reader specified to have a cat and also tits.

summary: everything is a competition with these two - including who gets to keep you company while you nap.

It had seemed like the perfect day to catch up on some work. No plans, no obligations, no desire to fight the traffic. Jill had offered all of the above. She'd woken you up early with insistent kisses at your neck, mumbling her plans for a morning hike. You'd rebuffed that idea quick with an unintelligible murmur, nuzzling deeper into your pillow.

That set the tone for the day. You were still in bed by the time she was back from her hike, had only traded the warmth of your bed for the indulgence of a shower with Jill. Your face pressed between her shoulder blades, warm water cascading down. You trusted your weight against her frame, made her question whether or not you had fallen asleep standing up.

“Leon's coming over around noon,” you'd told her, words pressed into her back.

“Yeah? You two have big plans?”

She felt you shake your head. Your arms squeezed around her waist, drawing her muscled body back into you.

“Just gonna hang out here. I'm gonna get some work done.”

Fat chance, Jill thought. She kept that to herself. If she pointed out that you seemed much more inclined to have a lazy day in, you'd push back and work too hard. She was just going to let you have your illusions of productivity.

Case in point: the sunny morning haze had tempered into an overcast sky, stringy cotton candy clouds rolling into puffy, over-whipped dollops. Leon had showed up with a light lunch in hand, passing you a warm bowl of soup and Jill a cup of coffee. He settled next to you on the couch, feet kicked up on the coffee table.

It doesn't take long for your first yawn to breach containment. You snatch the blanket from the back of the couch, draping it over your lap. You dropped your laptop on top of your thighs. Still playing at the idea of work while consciousness bled out of you and into the cushions. Jill caught Leon’s eye, smirked, and turned back to her own work.

Leon laughs. He warns, “you’re playing a dangerous game.”

Maybe he was right, but telling him that was a surefire way to never hear the end of it.

“I'm just chilly,” you yawned. You pounded out a few more lazy keystrokes to prove yourself. Hope this email finds you well, you draft. Phew. Hard work.

As if she knew you needed a break after that grueling labor, your cat appeared on the cushion next to you, tail curled up behind her. She gingerly closed the distance, careful paws immediately turning heavy the moment she climbed onto your stomach.

Your laptop nudged halfway down your legs, pushed lower and lower as your cat had stepped forward and demanded more real estate. Frantic keystrokes turned to gentle, loving pets. Your laptop wobbled, balanced precariously on your shins, your cat stretching down the seam of your legs and pushing it even further.

Devious little creature. You had whined and protested while doing nothing to move the little beast from your lap. She pushed any hope of productivity away from you, and you scratched under her chin.

The final death knell for productivity sounded - the first distant rumble of thunder rolled in through your open window. All the work you had hoped to catch up on was slipping through your fingers, washed away by the patter of rain against the rooftop.

Leon rescued your laptop from toppling to the floor, shutting the lid and laying it to the side. He mussed your hair playfully, just to feel you swat weakly at his hand. He knew damn well what the next words out of your mouth were.

"I think I'm gonna take a nap," you declared, right on time. Your hands scooched carefully beneath your cat, scooping her into your arms. A gentler awakening than dumping her on the floor when you pulled your legs back, to be certain. She mewled quietly, little trill pealing from her when she bunts her head against your shoulder.

Now, here arises the issue:

“Be right there.”

“Coming.”

Jill had already risen from her chair. Leon's feet had landed on the floor. They freeze, turning to look to each other. (Oblivious to the issue, you plod down the hall, cooing to your cat.)

Leon groans as he stands, hands slapping his thighs.

“That bed ain't big enough for the two of us,” he says, wiggling his fingers by his hips like he's ready for a stand off. Out of habit, Jill scans him for weapons. Left his every day carry in the car this time, at least.

That bed is probably big enough for the two of them, realistically. The one time they tried, they had technically fit. You had been in heaven, all wrapped up in the middle. Warm and safe, wrapped up with your lovers. Meanwhile, Leon's - and I quote - gangly fucking muppet legs kept bumping into Jill, his ‘talons’ scraping her. Jill had thought she was kissing the backs of your fingers, your soft skin against her chapped lips - only to realize too late that it was Leon's hands.

It had been too close for comfort. They'd decided not to do that again, that they'd take turns and live with it. Jill had gifted Leon toe nail clippers to show that she held no ill will; Leon had lifted her chapstick.

That peace was on pause for the moment. A naptime was on the line, with no clear invitation extended to either of them. Leon is tempted to pull the ‘you live together’ card, try to sneak into your bed on a technicality - but he decides to play fair.

Leon’s fist drops heavy into his palm. “Let’s settle this.”

Jill cracks her knuckles.

“Whoa, hang on– rock, paper, scissors, not beat, maim, bludgeon. Is that how you settle things at the BSAA?”

“I always win.”

“I have no doubt.”

Jill extends her fist, taking mercy on him. No beat down today. Just rock, paper, scissors. He might actually stand a chance now.

He thinks of what motivates him - what he's fighting for, the prize on the line.

Leon could picture blanketing you with his weight, hands slipping up your waist to curve against your ribs. There's no need for a blanket; he runs hot, has a furnace-like warmth he's happy to share with you anytime, anywhere. Conversation is pointless and light, your voices mingling and muddling together in the space between you. Coherence is gone, but he curls his fingers against your ribs to pry a giggle from you. It's hard to find the time to slow down but he relishes the way that time sputters to a stand still on lazy afternoons, your fingers trailing down his spine, slower and slower until they finally stop. Maybe you're not the prettiest sleeper, but it's pretty to him. He slips in and out of sleep, head cushioned on your pillowy tits.

Leon takes the first round. Rock beats scissors - he goes so far as to bop Jill’s fingers with his fist, making a crunching noise. Jill isn't amused.

“Best two out of three,” she insists, eyes hard.

Jill has a different picture in mind. Hands pushing your hips to the mattress, a blanket tangled between your limbs. You giggled when you told her you actually intended to nap, that it wasn't an excuse for a quickie. Jill could change your mind. It would be easy. But your fingers pet through her hair, scratch at the nape of her neck, and she swears she could purr. She noses up the valley of your chest, plants a kiss dead center, and pillows her cheek against your tits. She had never been one for naps, but she grasped every moment of serenity with you tightly, watched half-lidded as your eyes fluttered shut. Her head rises and falls with your breaths. She could stay like this forever, if you let her.

Scissors beats paper. Leon throws his hand up.

“Scissors twice in a row? Who does that?”

“Me.” Jill shakes her fist, drawing his attention back to the game. “Stop stalling. I'm ready for my nap.”

“Yeah, we'll see,” he mutters.

Time slows. Surely she wouldn't throw scissors again. Who would do that?

Jill Valentine would. She would commit to the bit. She's trying to throw him off, trying to make him think she's mixing it up so she can sneak in and win. He's underestimated Jill's ability to stay the course in the past before.

Jill throws scissors. Leon throws rock. He hisses out a contained, appropriately excited ‘yesss’ as he pretends to crush Jill’s scissors again.

She rolls her eyes, tamping down a smile. She waves him off, turning back to the kitchen table.

“Yeah, whatever. Have fun.”

“Oh, I will,” he insists, already backing down the hall to the bedroom. His gloating grows quieter, trying not to disturb your rest - the smug effect diminished by the fact that he's practically whispering. “Gonna sleep for three hours. Get my cologne all over the pillows.”

Leon nudges the bedroom door open gently, and–

“Goddammit,” he mumbles.

You're already asleep. That isn't the problem. The problem is your cat is curled up on your chest. Right in the valley of your breasts, where he wanted to be. He'd been so concerned about Jill that he had forgotten his biggest competition. Taunting him, the cat stretched out, paws pressing against your chest. She curls back in, rolling onto her back, belly presented.

A trap, he thinks. He shuffles over silently to pet the enticing belly fur all the same. Furry little traitor - she places a paw against his wrist, claws flexing. A warning - don't fuck up my nap, I got here first.

Leon risks kissing your forehead. Your cat allows it, her eyes tracking his every movement. He drags himself back into the living room, throwing himself down onto the couch, slumping.

Jill peeks up from her work, brow furrowed. Before she can ask what's wrong, Leon pipes up.

“The cat beat us to it.”

“She weighs 10 pounds. You can't move a 10 pound cat?”

Leon props an arm up on the back of the couch. He levels her with a skeptical look.

“Are you gonna move her?”

Silence. Jill would rather stick her hand in a jar of barbed wire than try to move your beloved menace from your chest.

“Let's just watch a movie.” Jill shuts her laptop and drops onto the other side of the couch.

“That's what I thought.”

When you wake hours later, the house is silent. You hadn't expected to wake up alone. The storm had settled into a gentle flush of rain, the house dark and cool in the midday storm. You stumble from bed and wobble down the hall, searching for at least one of your partners.

You find both of them crashed out on the couch, Leon squished against one arm, Jill against the other - and your cat taking up the majority of space curled up into a ball on the middle cushion, napping away.

#leon kennedy x reader #jill valentine x reader #leon kennedy fluff #jill valentine fluff #resident evil fluff #leon kennedy x you #jill valentine x you #leon kennedy x reader x jill valentine #resident evil fanfic #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy fluff

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omilkandhoneyteao · 2 days ago

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I need to add on to the Viktor thing cause that’s literally my man and the direction they went with him is something I can’t grasp

ARCANE SEASON 2 SPOILERS

I’m sorry but the machine herald wasn’t even machine, it was magic!!! He’s not the Magic Herald, he’s the machine herald and yet they didn’t include any of that??

Correct me if I’m wrong because I don’t play League but isn’t the Machine Herald’s whole thing still being a man but wanting to IMPROVE humanity by taking away their weaker parts by exchanging them for machinery? And yet, in arcane, he doesn’t give a fuck and is just turning in to the people he “helped” in to mindless husks? Also when he got blown to bits by Jayce, I really thought he was gonna replace himself with mechanical parts but NO THEY JUST MADE HIM EVEN MORE MAGIC???

Like it’s so weird that they also kinda tried to make it seem like it was Viktor’s fault for becoming what he became when like

That man just wanted to get better??? Like the scenes with Jayce were sweet but the whole “you were trying to perfect yourself” NO SIR HE WANTED TO STOP AN ILLNESS THAT WAS CAUSING A SLOW AND PAINFUL DEATH??? Like idk if people realize this but Viktor was GRIEVING like he found out he was dying which is a gigantic pill to swallow and clearly he wasn’t in his right state of mine and then when he finally accepted his fate, his already short life span was cut SHORTER by the explosion and even then, I feel like it was the scene with the hexcore that took away HIS choice of 1) wanting to just die and 2) destroying the hexcore!

I also fully believe that while Viktor was doing bad things, I think the Arcane was a corrupt form of magic (we’ve seen that there IS good magic like Mel’s) and it was corrupting Viktor in a way that made him think what he was doing was the ONLY way and that he HAD to do because again, he wasn’t in a clear state of mind so I fully believe that he was aware of what he was doing but he truly believed this was the ONLY way (like I’ve mentioned earlier it’s so similar to Wanda with the Darkhold and how it was corrupting her when she was at her most vulnerable by showing her what she wanted and that by doing all those bad things, it’s the only way she could get her wish)

Another thing I hated was them revealing that the Mage wasn’t Ryze (IT SHOULD’VE BEEN HE WOULD’VE MESHED SO WELL WITH THE STORY) but Viktor and that he just kept going back in time so Jayce could stop him which is so ???

Like I’m sorry but that’s literally so dumb because it just makes the world of Arcane seem even smaller! Like the way season 2 has been trying to make connections that didn’t need to be there makes it seem like Piltover and Zaun as a whole have a population of 30!

Like it would’ve been so much sweeter (lowkey power of friendship type ship but I’ll leave it at that) if Jayce and Viktor CHOSE to be partners and brothers and friends and whatever it is you see them as and that it wasn’t forced because of “fate” but because of THEIR choice! Like it lowkey just takes away the characters autonomy cause it’s like “well yeah you actually didn’t pick this person it was predestined!!!”

It’s just so disheartening because Viktor is such a good character and to just take away all the good things they could’ve done with him is just upsetting.

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bananayuyu · 4 hours ago

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all tied up {part 1}

Pairing: Yunho x f reader

Genre: angst, eventual smut

Word count: 10.5k

Summary: You never thought you'd have such an awful rivalry with a coworker. How is he so mean, so petty, so under your skin...?

Warnings: smut, MDNI, mentions of reader wanting to die and past traumas, dub con/non con, reader is physically bound against her will, mean yunho, nipple play, fingering, unprotected penetration, after care of sorts (all the smut happens in part 2)

A/n: Well I had the goal of making this maybe 2k words initially, and now it's 22.4k so I decided to split it into two parts. Let me know if you'd like to be tagged for part 2, I will be posting it very soon! (and please read the warnings and don't read this if you aren't in the right headspace <3)

Read it on ao3

"Morning."

Your coworker's tone is cold as ice, as if he swallowed the winter air on his way to the building and was now spitting it at you.

"Hi," you grunt, not bothering to look up from your desk.

It was a biting, harsh morning, and the headache you were nursing wasn't doing any favors to your mood. Only minutes into your work day you already felt bleary, your legs still shivering from the short walk between the subway station and the twenty-story building your office rested in. In the mornings you woke it from its slumber; the lights in the lobby blinking on, even the heater rumbling awake as you walked through the door, as if it took a break from its job all night, too. It certainly felt that frosty in here, especially at 7am sharp, when you stumbled in before everyone else. You preferred this early shift and were thankful to be walking out the door so early each day, early enough that even in the dead of winter the sun hadn't yet set. The early mornings never bothered you; the solitude was tender and warm with you, even if the air was cruel on these freezing winter mornings.

The intrusion of your steely coworker was unwelcome, to say the least.

"Why are you here so early?" you ask, a sharp edge to your tone. You're bitter that you won't have your usual hour to yourself, especially given the meeting you are set to have with your boss in just a few hours. You'd needed this time to mentally prepare, and here he was ruining your plans, yet again.

"I figured I'd come in early to get work done before our little meeting with the boss," he replies, a slow sigh leaving his lips and betraying just how tense he is. Well, at least it wasn't just you. You had been dreading this morning since last Friday, when the two of you had your worst argument yet, prompting your boss to demand a meeting with you both. You had no idea what would happen; you'd never had your boss demand a scheduled meeting with you in the six years you'd worked here. Things were different now, now that you worked as a grant writer and not at the front desk, but still it was concerning. He always just met with people spontaneously, and the scheduled bi-weekly meetings for the entire administrative staff were the time where conflicts and confusion were dealt with. He'd never called just two people into his office like this; then again, no one at your company had ever butted heads like you two, so badly that it left the whole office simmering with frustration, everyone dreading the sour expression that permanently settled on your features by the end of each day. You were so different now, so changed from the calm and happy woman they all knew.

You stood to make your way to the kitchen, passing by his desk as you went to turn on the kettle, boiling water for your first tea of the day. This morning called for multiple cups, your throat scratchy and dry from nerves, your body depleted from your lack of sleep. You'd stayed up far too late with your best friend last night, rambling about the meeting, begging her to help you come up with an excuse to stay home. She'd laughed with you, throwing out a few random ideas, but she knew as well as you did that you'd be here today. As much as you dreaded it, you would only miss this meeting if you were on your literal death bed, your job meaning too much to you to lose it.

From this angle he had a perfect view of you, your face scrunched up in concentration as you set the kettle to temperature, placing other employee's dirty dishes from the sink into the dishwasher. You were too obsessed with organization, in a way that made him irrationally angry, but he couldn't stop watching you every day, watching the way you adhered so severely to your little routines, watching the way his interruptions cast your face in worry and made you snap at him. Today, like every Monday, you wore your favorite shoes, the black platform Mary Janes. Up your legs stretched your thigh-high wool socks, also black, held up by a ruffled stretch of gray lace at the top. Over your hips lay a gray tartan skirt, reaching almost down to your socks, leaving an inch of bare thigh exposed in a way he thought wasn't really work appropriate. And then there was your black turtleneck, tight and accentuating your obviously braless chest, the curves and shapes of your body not hidden in the slightest. He was watching you intently, waiting for you to finally notice, and boy was he not disappointed when you finally did.

"You've hid my mug, haven't you," you spit, slamming the dishwasher harder than you needed to. You hadn't seen it in the cabinet, so you'd gingerly searched through the dishwasher too, desperately hoping someone else hadn't used it the previous week and neglected to wash it. Not finding it in there was a relief in some ways, but immediately you knew who was at fault for its disappearance, and his dark chuckle in response to you confirmed your suspicions ten fold. "You're such a dick," you grumble under your breath, reaching for any other random mug in the cabinet, needing something to house the tea you desperately need.

"What was that?" he asks, his tone mocking you, knowing exactly the sentiment of what you'd said even if he hadn't heard you clearly. You sigh and roll your eyes, ripping open your tea bag and plopping it in the mug, gently pouring the steaming liquid over it. "You just love to blame me for everything, don't you, even if you have no proof." His voice is low, dark, and it makes a shiver run through you even as the steam of the water warms your face. "You're cruel y/n, so cruel." His tone of voice makes you feel trapped, even all these feet away, and you just freeze for a bit, your tea steeping a bit longer than it should have. A creak of the building snaps you out of it, and you fling the tea bag into the trash, gently blowing over the mug and taking a tiny sip, testing the temperature.

Finally you turn, catching a glimpse of him. Jeong Yunho, the newest addition to your little office, hired about six months ago now, you realized. The date hit you in the gut this morning; the year had flown by, especially the last half, and in days it would no longer be this year anymore, no longer be the ending of an adventure but rather the start, when you'd have to plan again, think again. His suit today is stone gray, the color only barely darker than his wool overcoat, his tie a dark navy that really just looked black. His shoes were dark navy too; which you only knew because of the difference in the toe box from his other black shoes, the ones he normally wore. It must be a special day, he must be heading to something important after work. Some sort of meeting? No, that wouldn't really make sense, you all didn't work in a field where meetings were held outside of work hours, in restaurants or bars. Unless the meeting was about getting out of here, finding another placement. Maybe a date? Who'd want to date such an asshole, though?

He was rich and good-looking. Even you could recognize that. And boy did it irk you, that he looked so good in his suits, that he wasn't too masculine or too feminine, that his nose sloped in just the perfect way, that his smile was soft and bright and so endearing. You hadn't met many people in your life who were so captivating at first glance, and sure, when he'd first started here a part of you hoped something might happen between the two of you. You'd eat lunch at each other's desks, excitedly discussing your newest grants or talking about your favorite shows, which of course, were the same. It was a blissful few weeks, a beautiful honeymoon of sorts. Of course it couldn't last forever; you landed your dream job, everything you'd been working towards finally coming true last year, a new perfect apartment with your best friend being the cherry on top. Of course this year a man appeared and tried to ruin everything.

The two of you work in silence until 7:45, when everyone else starts arriving for the day, led of course by Dr. Acharya, the supervising psychotherapist. Next is Tally, who gives you a short wave as she heads to reception, her horn-rimmed glasses peeking over the window to blow you a kiss when she finds the mug of tea you'd made waiting for her. Soon many others scramble in together; Marnie, Amir, Rua, and Keisha, each making their way to their individual offices to ready themselves for their first clients. Soon Jongho, in charge of billing and accounting, walks in too, sitting down at his desk next to Yunho. And finally Eliana stumbles in just before eight, her giant coffee in hand, her eyes slightly dark with panic like they always are as she rushes into her office. Your boss, Mr. Kangsoo, won't be in for another hour at least and the day lurches forward as the first clients of the day are brought back for their counseling sessions, the office breaking into a low hum that will stay with you until you leave.

Your digitizing task today is boring but necessary, and that headache isn't leaving you, even with the tea warming your throat and your favorite piano concerto comforting you through the morning. You always loved Rachmaninov in the winter. But even so, your mood was sour, too sour. Yunho and Jongho's comfortable chatter was making your blood boil, making it hard for you to focus on your stupid, tedious task. In a huff you stand, heading straight for the reception office, papers in hand.

"Hi hi," Tally greets you as you open her door, gently closing it behind you.

"Dude, I'm dreading this meeting," you say immediately, sighing.

"Why? I'm sure nothing bad will come of it, Mr. Kangsoo loves you," she says, canceling an appointment on her screen and typing out a note.

"I know, I'm just already pissy today, not exactly the best mood to be bringing to the boss's office," you chuckle, setting your papers on the corner of her desk. "I kept neglecting digitizing this pile and now I can't stop obsessing over it. And Yunho came in early today, and hid my fucking mug. Again."

"Did you see this?" she asks, grabbing a sticky note from the corner of her computer and holding it out to you.

Can you please let the pretty one know she's never driving me from this job, no matter how hard she tries?

"God he's such an ass," you whisper, making Tally giggle. "Thank god for you girl, I don't know what I'd do without you here."

"You're 100% sure it's Yunho?" she asks, eyeing you.

"Who else would it be?" you reply, rolling your eyes, making her laugh again.

"Well, I guess now 'the pretty one' has been told," she giggles, rolling her eyes too as she crumples up the note and tosses it in the trash.

"Like I said, he's an ass," you reply, not as quietly this time. A parent obviously waiting for their child snaps their head up, looking in your direction. They're maybe twenty feet away, and the window between the lobby and the reception desk is small, so you doubt they really heard you. But you balk in embarrassment anyway, silencing yourself.

"I should get back to my desk, I guess," you say, sighing as you pick up your stack of papers once again.

"Just ignore him," Tally says, smiling kindly.

"I'll try," you sigh, earning a disapproving look from Tally. "I will, I promise. You're right, I know, I should just ignore him," you answer, looking over to see the back of his head, his large hands crossed over each other and resting there on his jet black hair. Fuck him, you can't help but think. Everything had been going so well, and you'd never been someone who got into drama at work, ever. It was a point of pride for you for a long time, a huge reason why your boss gave you the position he did and trusted you to be a part of his team. Now it had all been ruined, by this fucking asshole, in his perfectly tailored suits.

The day dragged on, your mind spinning with anxiety. It wouldn't leave you until that dreaded meeting, you knew that, so you busied yourself with scanning and organizing the files, not bothering to try to get any writing done. There was no way you would, not in this state.

Finally your boss arrived, his heavy footsteps sending waves of dread through you, your stomach a fluttering mess. You hadn't been able to eat this morning, which was very unlike you; you could feel how weak you were from the lack of sustenance, the adrenaline making you shakier than it normally did. You stumbled on wobbly legs towards his office once he called for you, Yunho's presence dark and foreboding behind you, and you swore you heard him whisper 'behave yourself' as the two of you passed into the office. Your blood was boiling as you sat down, the two chairs facing the front of your boss's desk, your face a permanent scowl as you stared Yunho down, watching him settle himself down in the chair and spread his legs farther than he needed to, looking all too comfortable.

"Ok, to start, this is not to scare you, or fire you," your boss begins, already zeroing in on the dynamic between you; the cool and collected look of Yunho, and the angry, stricken look of you, your eyes deep with worry when you meet your boss's gaze. "You both know me, I don't really do this sort of thing. I don't need to control you all, to be a good leader." He sighs deeply, looking almost as pained as you do, like he's mulled this over for too long himself. "I just can't let this go on any longer. The conflict between you two is affecting everyone, and it's clearly affecting your own work, too. I can see it in the quality of your writing. You are both very smart, very good grant writers, and even so you've been doing a good job, but I know you both can do better. And this fighting, it really needs to stop." He sighs deeply again, shaking his head subtly, like his subconscious is trying to rid itself of the stress you two have caused him. It makes so many feelings bloom in your guts, but the overwhelming one is guilt, the feeling so entirely consuming that you have the urge to jump to the floor now and start babbling out apologies. But you stop yourself, stop the tears from coming, and taking a deep breath you regain some composure. You know your boss, and you know his cadence, so you know he has more to say.

"So, we're figuring this out today. I don't care what it takes, we're settling this. So tell me, why do you two fight so much?" His eyes sweep back and forth, eyeing each of you for any sign, any subtle movement that could give him some idea of what was going on. He had his own theories, but he really couldn't be sure, and due to his laid back nature with his staff, he hadn't been monitoring you two enough to really know. With a sigh he leans back in his chair, letting the silence hang in the room until one of you is willing to break it.

"Sir, I don't think she's liked me from the moment I started here," Yunho finally speaks up, leaning forward in his chair and setting his elbows on his knees, the casual and confident gesture making your skin crawl. "I think she's been trying to make me miserable, so I'll leave-"

"That is not tru-"

"I think she feels some sort of ownership here, cause she's worked here so much longer than m-"

"That is absolutely not true!" you cry, your shot nerves leaving you unable to control your volume. "I would never try to run someone out of the office that way, that's completely unprofessional! He's the one who started all of this, he's the one who leaves nasty notes for me and hides my things and puts me down constantly in every admin meeting, trying to make me look like an idiot in front of everyone! If we're really gonna go there, I think he feels intimidated by my experience here, by the fact that I have a clearly established relationship with everyone, that you and all the therapists like me, and that even though he has more experience than me I'm still writing better grants!"

"Y/n, please keep yo-" your boss starts.

"I'm sorry, sir, but he left a note for me on Tally's computer this morning! How unprofessional is that! Now he's dragging her into our drama too, which I promise you I've never done! I-"

"Oh sure, you've never complained about me to anyone in the office," Yunho juts in, rolling his eyes. "It's not like everyone here sides with you on everything, always. If it weren't for Jongho I think you would have made everyone in this office hate me by now."

"Everyone loves you here, what do you mean?" you shoot back, your eyebrows furrowed in frustration. "I never talk about you to any of them, not even Tally. Because I know it would be wrong. Maybe everyone sides with me on certain issues because I'm right, have you ever considered that?! And by the way, Tally thinks poorly of you because of her own observations, because she doesn't like the things you say to me. So that has everything to do with you and your shitty behavior-" you cut yourself off, slapping a hand over your mouth. Because as comfortable as you are with your boss, you never, ever curse in front of him. It's an unspoken rule in the office, and one you'd never struggled to follow before. Shame washes over you like a wave of boiling water, making your whole body begin to shake.

"I'm so sorry, sir," you bow your head to him, your eyes closed as you fight to keep yourself from bursting into tears.

"She's obviously quite emotionally unstable, sir," Yunho pipes up from beside you, and of all the things he's said recently it's definitely the most hurtful. Your head shoots up, a single tear racing down your cheek despite your attempts to keep it at bay, and you just stare at him, your face betraying everything you're feeling.

"There's no need for that sort of insult right now, Yunho," your boss scolds him. "I need you two to resolve this, not fight even more. So tell me about this note, what did it say? Why did you leave a note for y/n on Tally's desk?"

"I'm sorry sir, I understand," Yunho responds, his perfectly respectful tone and gestures looking so put on. "And honestly sir, I have no idea what y/n is talking about. I didn't leave any notes for anyone this morning."

"Oh, so you're going to lie right to our boss's face?" you ask him, your volume lower but your anger still evident. "Do I need to go grab Tally? Seriously?"

"Did this note have my name on it anywhere?" he chuckles, fixing you with a strong gaze. And if you aren't mistaken, there's some sort of twinkle in his eye, almost like he's enjoying this. Is it seeing you suffer, seeing the anger and sadness in your eyes that makes him feel joy? Or maybe it's just messing with you in front of your boss, forcing you to over-explain yourself to the point of looking hysterical. Whatever it is it makes you uneasy, your stomach feeling like it might fall out of your ass at any moment.

"Sir, it said, 'Can you please let the pretty one know she's never driving me from this job, no matter how hard she tries?" you say, exasperated. "He just said he thinks I've been trying to drive him out. It was obviously him who left that note." You turn your body to face your boss again, not wanting to catch even a glimpse of Yunho anymore, your eyes pleading with Mr. Kangsoo to believe you.

"Sir, I did not write that. I would never say something so inappropriate about a coworker," Yunho adds, and though you don't see it, he's staring right at you. Your boss sighs heavily, your eyes fixed to the way he's staring at Yunho, the lines in his forehead deep with frustration. He looks like he's about to start speaking but then stops himself, another deep breath moving through his lungs, before running his hands through his hair and leaning back in his chair again.

"God, I wish you two would just sleep with each other already and get it out of your systems," he groans under his breath, but you hear it loud and clear, your whole body on high alert.

"What?!" you snap, your response involuntary. You had respected this man for years, admired the way he ran this office with calm confidence and respect for everyone, and you couldn't believe something so inappropriate had just come out of his mouth.

"Y/n, I'm sorry, I don't mean to be gross. I just can't help but wonder if part of the issue between the two of you is, well, the obvious attraction," Mr. Kangsoo responds, sighing deeply. "I do sincerely apologize if I'm reading things incorrectly, or if that last comment made you uncomfortable. I don't in any way want to encourage my employees to sleep with each other, obviously, and that just slipped out of my mouth. It was inappropriate, I know. I just feel like I'm at my wit's end with you two, and I feel desperate to find some sort of solution. Because you both are incredible employees and I don't want to have to get rid of either of you."

"I'm so sorry sir, that this whole situation with us two has caused you stress, but I can assure you there's no attraction here. Only dislike," you reply, letting out a shaky breath.

"No attraction at all, sir," Yunho adds, making you feel disgusted at actually agreeing with him for once.

"Then why the constant arguing?" your boss asks.

"Like I said sir, he's been tormenting me-"

"She clearly has something against me sir, and I don't know what I could do to change tha-"

"You don't know what you could do?? Maybe stop being so mean to me!" you cry out again.

"Y/n, keep your voice down, this is my last warning," your boss cuts in, his face stern. "You know I see you as almost a daughter to me, you started working here when you were what, 17? And now you've finished your degree, made so many strides in the last few years. I'm proud of you and everything you've accomplished, but I'm struggling to feel proud right now, with how you've been acting recently in the office. It isn't like you. I know Yunho is at fault for this too, and I want you to know I've already talked to him about his comments made during our admin meetings. What he said a few weeks ago, insinuating that you didn't understand the "actual point" of your role in this company because you have less experience than him, was uncalled for. So was his comment earlier. But I see too that you are quick to jump on everything he says, to assume that everything he does has ill intent towards you, and I don't think that that's fair either. I know you're more mature than this," he finishes, his eyes soft as he looks at you.

"I don't think I am, sir," you squeak out, your voice breaking as more tears well in your eyes.

"Y/n, I won't have this. I need you to approach this like you've approached everything else in your life, with the goal of actually understanding it. Don't give up on this now," he says, his voice stern but encouraging in that special way only he can be.

"Sir, how am I supposed to feel watching you accept her hysterics?" Yunho asks, his face tense with annoyance.

"God, you're cruel," you whisper, curling into a ball on your chair, not caring that you're wearing a short skirt and you probably shouldn't be holding your legs this way.

"Yunho, you're getting on my last fucking nerve today," your boss snaps, and both of you have wide eyes of shock, Mr. Kangsoo not one to curse in the office, either. "This entire conversation went worse than I expected, and your uncalled for comments show me that maybe you're not as mature as I originally thought you were. You came in with great references, son, and you clearly are very smart, but you must realize you're up against someone who's been working for me for six years, and who has proven time and time again to be basically the perfect employee. This conflict is a blip on the radar for her, but for you it's been happening almost the entire time I've known you. I want to believe the best in you, but you must understand how this looks from my perspective."

You both just sit frozen, like two kids in time-out, your faces different versions of disappointment. Your eyes are slightly red from crying, and your knees are still pulled up to your chin, your arms squeezing so tightly around them that it hurts.

"I've had it with this conversation, I don't think this is going to work. Which I should have known, it's clear that conversation between the two of you always leads to conflict," your boss continues. "I'm sending you both home, right now, and I'm demanding that you figure out this thing between you, or I'm firing you both. You have a week. Do not return to this office until the two of you have sorted out your issues, and can promise me you will not fight ever again going forward," he states, his arms crossed over his chest.

You both gawk at him, your faces looking almost identical, as you try to take in what he's just told you.

"Sir, I-" Yunho starts, but even he's stumbling over his words with just how shocked he is. "I don't think this is fair, sir. You should- you can't force us to make up, that isn't going to happen. This- we- we'll both be fired by next week," he stumbles out, his collected demeanor finally shattering.

"With all due respect, son, this is my company. I can do what I want. And this is what I feel is best. So both of you go, now, I won't hear another word. Out," he demands, standing and nodding towards his door.

You rise without a word, your body shaking dramatically from the heaps of adrenaline still coursing through you. Silently you grab your coat and scarf, packing up your bag and slinging it over your shoulder, walking to the kitchen to grab your lunch out of the fridge. You make your way towards the front door, stopping briefly at reception to look at Tally, her curly hair hanging down as she furiously types away at a document. Finally she looks up and sees your face, her own twisting into concern and confusion.

"What happened?" she whispers.

"I- I don't know," you respond, shaking your head. "Ask boss about it, I'm sure he'll tell you," you sigh, wiping another tear from your eyes. "I can't stay, I have to go," you squeak, giving her a quick hug, before turning and walking towards the front door again, nearly bumping into Yunho. You don't give him the courtesy of an apology, instead storming past him, walking angrily towards the elevator.

And of course you take the elevator down together, the silence awkward and tense and indescribable. You know he'll probably be walking down to the subway station with you, and it doesn't even surprise you when he gets on the same line as you, heading the same direction. But when he gets off at the same exact stop and you feel him walking up the stairs behind you, you can't just accept it any longer.

"Are you fucking following me?" you spit over your shoulder, your eyes dark with anger.

"No, y/n, I live up this way," he retorts, pointing ahead of you two in the exact direction of your neighborhood.

"God, don't tell me we're neighbors," you groan, trudging down the street, the remnants of last week's snow still stuck in the gutters.

"You live in Arbol Village?" he asks, almost sounding impressed.

"On Maple street," you sigh, with a nod.

"Me too," he chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief.

"This isn't funny, you fucking psychopath," you retort, angry that he's still here in your proximity, and angrier that there's only one path up into your neighborhood from this side, and the hill that leads up is making you out of breath in a way that's nothing but embarrassing.

"And you say I'm the mean one," he responds, smiling as he shakes his head.

"I really don't get how you can be so blasé about this," you huff out, your footsteps heavy as you nearly crest the hill and enter your neighborhood.

"Workplaces are shit, this is how it goes. If I have to find another job, I will. But don't think I won't go down without a fight. Mr. Kangsoo is by far the best boss I've ever worked for, so I'm going to do whatever I can to keep my position," he says, his breathing annoyingly stable even after walking the entirety of the hill. Slowly you two start into the neighborhood, but suddenly he's turning down a path towards the second house on Maple Street, the large dark one with an almost Victorian structure.

"Of course the fancy one is your house," you sigh, seeing the ornate curtains covering only part of the front window.

"Come in, we need to talk more," Yunho says, beckoning you with his hands, but you can't be bothered.

"Fuck no, are you crazy?" you respond, already stomping down the sidewalk past his house, not bothering to look back. The last thing you could bear is his presence right now, and for some reason you feel like you're not totally in control of yourself anyway, your legs moving so firmly they'd probably still be going even if you protested. Yunho just sighs, himself drained from the meeting you'd just left, and not having the energy to fight more. Later today, or tomorrow morning, he promised himself, he'd call you and start sorting this out for good. But for now he just watched you grow smaller and smaller, your hair blowing gently behind you in the winter breeze, your legs looking weak.

Once you were home, two and a half blocks from your asshole of a coworker, you collapsed on your bed, passing out in moments. In the late afternoon you woke to the sound of the front door slamming shut, your roommate, Yunji, calling, "shit, sorry! The wind is crazy out there!"

"You're good!" you called back, but your voice made it apparent to her that it was one of those days where you needed to be left alone, so she didn't come into your room. You picked yourself up and stripped off your work clothes, finally freeing your thighs of the tight elastics that held up your socks, two red rings now visible on your skin. Automatically you brushed your teeth, grabbing your comfiest hoodie and sweatpants, and passed out in your bed again, not even eating dinner, not checking your phone. The sun had already begun to set, the sky outside rearing for another stormy night, and your body was lulled to sleep within minutes, your head buried deep into your pillows as you pulled your comforter over your head.

You woke in what felt like minutes, your room eerily quiet. The light looked bright outside, very bright; it was disorienting, both the quiet and the light, and you lifted yourself up, squinting around in search of your phone. You'd forgotten to plug it in last night, so it surely would be almost dead. You found it still in your work bag, hanging on for dear life with the battery at five percent. The time astonished you, 9am, and you gawked at yourself. No wonder you felt so disoriented; you'd been sleeping for nearly sixteen hours.

And as you finally sorted through your notifications, your shock over the time left your brain entirely. Because the shock of having a missed call from Yunho, having two missed calls from him, floored you, literally. You sank down to the ground, furiously clicking to see the times. One was last night, at about 7pm, and the other was this morning about an hour ago. This morning he'd left a voicemail too, presumably right after you hadn't answered. With shaky hands you clicked on it, holding the phone tight to your ear so you wouldn't miss a word.

"Y/n, I know you don't like talking to me, but we really should try to sort this out earlier rather than later. Please call me back as soon as you get this."

Well, fuck.

He sounded disappointed, and frustrated, and perturbed to even be leaving the message. But god was that voice convincing, even to you, the way he worded things so eloquently and politely, like he's genuinely a good and thoughtful person. It hit you hard while listening that maybe your anger wasn't justified, maybe you'd been unfair to him like your boss had said. The sneaking feeling had graced you many times over your months of conflict, but now it felt too strong to ignore. Did he really want to sort this out? It sounded like it. Why, why, why was this so damn confusing for you?

Your mind raced as your stomach growled, as you tried to get ahold of yourself. Still sprawled out on your carpet you felt exhausted, your body somehow still feeling pulled towards sleep despite the hoards of it you'd just been allotted. You peeled yourself up, standing carefully, moving towards your window to get a view of the backyard. Looking at the garden always calmed you, even in the winter when most of the flowers were gone. And as you opened your blinds you realized why things seemed so bright this morning, and why you were barely hearing a sound.

A thick blanket of snow covered everything, flakes still falling gently from the sky which was dotted with clouds. The sun shone through a gap in them, reflected bright off the entirely white ground. You breathed out a sigh of relief, knowing that everyone had been forced to stay home today, so your missing work wasn't really a disruption to the office. Whoever was miffed about having to take your early shift wouldn't have to, after all. It was like the world was granting you a favor, as you often felt that she did, and you were so thankful. Because this, too, was a great excuse to avoid Yunho longer. There was no way you could leave the house with so much snow outside; it wasn't safe. You breathed in a sigh of relief, shaking it out as you finally connected your phone to charge, slipping on some thick socks and gliding your way out to the kitchen.

After breakfast you popped back into your room, shooting off a quick text.

Y/n: I just saw the snow, I don't think I can come over. Let's see tomorrow.

Almost immediately a call comes through from him, but you let it ring out. There was no way you were going to waste this beautiful snow day talking to him, and you had a whole week to resolve this anyway. It gnawed at you, in the back of your mind somewhere, but presently you just couldn't find it in yourself to voluntarily speak to him.

Yunho: We can still talk on the phone. And we really should. Y/n: We should take a break from talking and cool off. For today.

That was how you were justifying it to yourself. You needed a break, deserved a break from him. You wouldn't be able to really resolve anything if you were still pissed, and with the shock of the morning's weather and your body's obvious need for even more rest, you just couldn't take it today. Plus, everyone else was getting a day off, why couldn't you?

Yunho: I disagree

You flip your phone over, setting it on your bedside table, and you walk away. You'd had it with him arguing with you over text too, and the idea of curling up on the couch with Yunji, sipping hot cocoa and watching your favorite movies, sounded too enticing. You were not going to think about him anymore today. It was decided.

And surprisingly you were mostly able to keep your promise to yourself, the day passing in all its wintery glory, your favorite tradition with your roommate leaving you just as content as it always did. With a gentle sigh you both finally stood up, moving to the kitchen to wash the dishes you'd made all day, finally putting away the snacks you'd covered the coffee table with. As you both walked past the window in the hall you stopped short, eyes fixed on the scene unfolding before you.

"Holy shit," Yunji said, grabbing onto your arm. You both were used to the snow here, having grown up in the next town over. But this snow, that now seemed to be three feet deep, was something you hadn't seen since the one glorious winter more than a decade ago. You were eight that year, and the day after Christmas it snowed furiously, continuing all the way until New Year's Day when the ground was so covered that everywhere you looked outside all you saw was white.

You hadn't realized it was snowing all day, that the sky had turned dark in the early afternoon with all of the cloud cover. You were both too engrossed in your fun to notice.

"Well, I guess we're not going back to work for another few days," she laughed, sighing at how lovely it looked.

"Thank god," you replied, sighing in relief.

"Has Yunho been giving you trouble again?" she asked, and you turned to her with a downturned smile.

"When is he not," you sighed, laughing.

"Hey, how did your meeting go, yesterday?" she asked.

"Fucking terrible," you reply, a frustrated hand running through your hair.

"What happened?"

"Boss said that if the two of us can't resolve our differences, he's letting us both go," you answer, sighing harshly.

"Oh my god, that's crazy! How could he do that to you??" she replied, eyes wide.

"Girl, I know. I don't even know how it got to this point."

She moved to hug you, knowing just how much this situation had weighed on you, and just how much your job meant. She'd seen it in your eyes, even if you hadn't always told her exactly what was going on. She knew how sensitive you were, and she couldn't believe your boss would say such a thing. Especially given the years of dedication you'd given to that office, that you so genuinely cared about.

"What are you gonna do?" she asks, pulling back.

"Well I guess, try to resolve it. I don't know how, though, every time we talk he just pisses me off and we fight. He's not reasonable about anything. He's always joking, nothing is ever totally serious. I saw him stutter for the first time yesterday, when Mr. Kangsoo gave us that ultimatum, but earlier in the meeting he was way too casual about everything. He was calling me hysterical and unstable, and, just, how the fuck does my boss think I'm going to solve this? That man is fucking impossible," you say, shaking your head.

"He sounds like a sociopath," she replies. "If I ever see him I will wring his neck, I swear to god."

"Well, you might. He lives in this neighborhood." Yunji's eyes go wide at your comment, her mouth hanging open. "Yeah, I know. He lives on our street, too, you know the fancy looking house that's second in from the road? Like if you're walking from the station this direction, the second house on the right? Yeah, that's his. I found out yesterday when I was walking home."

"How the fuck does a single guy in his twenties afford that?" she asks, baffled.

"He clearly has family money, he must. I'm sure he's made decent money for the past few years, but not enough to afford that. And all of his stuff, his suits and his briefcase and everything, looks expensive. And it's not like, shit that just looks expensive or name brand stuff. It's subtler than that, it just seems like everything he owns is so high quality."

"Fucking rich boys. I guess it isn't surprising, given how he's behaved. Like he's always gotten his way and never been told no."

"It really seems like it. Everyone always loves him, it's so annoying," you roll your eyes, thinking of every other staff member's reaction to meeting their shiny new coworker, and his easy demeanor, always saying what people want to hear. Except to you, it seemed.

"Well you can't really meet up and talk right now," Yunji says.

"No, but he said we should talk on the phone. I missed two calls from him, and he left me a message. But I can't bear to speak with him on the phone. I don't ever talk to my coworkers outside of work, no matter how close we are," you reply, shaking your head. "It just feels weird. I don't know what I'm gonna do, but I'm ignoring him for the rest of today."

"Understandable," she responds, squeezing your arm for a moment. "I should try to get some work done on my thesis, I guess, but you rest this evening. You deserve it."

As you both retire to your rooms, you sigh into your pillow. Despite the lazy day, despite the sixteen hours of sleep last night, you still feel tired. It must be mental, it's the only explanation at this point. And you know that means you should probably avoid your phone. But you reflexively check it; the anticipation brewing in your head isn't letting up.

You find two more missed calls from Yunho, and another text.

Yunho: How are we going to solve this if you keep ignoring me?

You suppose it makes you feel a little bad, a little guilty. Still, you can't be bothered to respond. You don't know why; you can't explain it. That feeling like you're not totally in control of your actions, like someone else is calling the shots, is back, and it really doesn't feel like something you can fight, or should fight. There's an eeriness about it, but it's so far in the back of your mind that you don't give it a second thought. After turning over your phone you climb into your covers, the light barely there outside as the evening approaches, the sky still covered in dark clouds and the snow still falling.

And just like that, two days pass. The snow has stayed heavy, making it unsafe to leave, the whole city quiet as few feel brave enough to venture outside. A desperate run to the grocery store calls a few, but thankfully you and Yunji have plenty of food in the pantry to last you a few days. She's taken the opportunity to really focus on her work, and you thought maybe you should, too. You never worked on grants at home, but you could bet Yunho was also taking advantage of the quiet time. You didn't really have anything better to do, yet you couldn't bring yourself to work at all, not when your head and gut were rolling with anxiety and fear and a crushing hatred of yourself. That first day avoiding Yunho had felt, well, not good, but justified. But the past two days, more missed calls and texts unanswered, you felt straight up guilty, and stupid. Not really for ignoring Yunho, as much as letting down your boss, which you knew you would. This couldn't be resolved; no matter what the two of you did you'd never get along, and it was clear that there was something in Yunho that made him unable to leave you alone. You hadn't particularly liked the last guy in his position, either, but the two of you had basically ignored each other, easily. But since his entrance to your office, Yunho seemed unable to not bother you, not leave notes, not piss you off every chance he got. And now you couldn't help but ignore him, even though you knew that doing so was fucking you both over, making it certain that you'd never return to that beloved office and your dream job.

You felt stuck. The literal fact of not being able to leave your apartment was eating you alive, making you feel scared and paranoid and vulnerable in ways you knew were illogical. Every little sound started to make you jump; you were losing it, slowly but surely coming apart at the seams. You swore you started hearing your mom's cat meowing for you, and once in the kitchen it sounded so real you spent minutes furiously searching the hall and your bedroom for her. You collapsed on the floor, waves of anxiety rolling over you as you held yourself in the fetal position, not even crying, just hyperventilating.

Yunho: You're being really immature and unfair by not responding to me. Not even giving this a chance of maybe working itself out

You hadn't responded to him in days, but something in you finally broke. It was in the way his words reflected how you felt about yourself, and the severe guilt that it brought you alighted in flames and suddenly felt like nothing but red, hot anger.

Y/n: Fuck you Yunho: Oh, so you are alive

Breathing heavy you stared at the screen, a sudden realization washed over you. You knew it was over; you'd maintained at least some level of professionalism up to this point, albeit not much, with him. Even when you fought in the office you didn't say anything personal or unnecessarily nasty. You only cursed at him under your breath, never loud enough that anyone could hear. But now you had said something nasty, in writing no less. Even if you both somehow made it back to work on Monday, he'd no doubt show your boss what you had said. And even with your long standing relationship with Mr. Kangsoo, you doubted he'd be willing to keep you on after seeing that.

So that was it. It was over. Logically you knew that you could find a new job, that this wasn't the end of your life. The new year was right around the corner, which was always a good time to find new placements. But you had studied communications and psychology specifically for this job, had dedicated years to learning everything you could about funding and mental health care and the ways your boss ran the office. Though it'd never been said directly, you had a feeling that one day you'd become his second-in-command, and maybe even take over running the place once he was ready to take a step back and retire. You loved this part of the city, loved living with your best friend here, and the commute was easy. You'd planned everything so well, yet it still was about to crumble in your hands. And with every passing minute, it felt like you were waiting for your life to implode, which made not being able to leave all the worse.

The next morning you woke to a call from your mom.

"Good morning," she answered, after your muffled and confused, hello? "Happy New Year sweetie."

"Hi mom, Happy New Year," you responded, rolling over to tuck yourself into the covers again. It had gotten bone-chillingly cold with the perpetual precipitation, and pulling the covers off in the morning felt torturous.

"Since you can't come down to see me today I thought I'd call. Are you two doing okay? Do you have enough food?"

"Yeah, we're doing fine," you say through a yawn. "We've got plenty of food, as long as this lets up in a few days."

"God, it better. I'm glad I got to see you on Christmas Eve."

"Me too."

"Are you doing okay? You sound off," she asks you, making your heart sink. She has no idea what's been going on; you've done an expert job of keeping it a secret from her, as you often do with your struggles, because you know she can't really handle it. You know she has too much to deal with on her own, and you never really feel like she gives you good advice, anyway. But with how you've been feeling mentally, hearing someone ask that has you panicking internally.

"Oh yeah, I'm fine, I just woke up is all," you lie, yawning again to punctuate your point. "I'm not really enjoying being stuck inside, I guess."

"That's not like you," your mom laughs, and you know she's shaking her head side to side the way she always does. "You used to always love when you were stuck inside, or stranded somewhere. Do you remember when you got lost at that theme park in Ocean City? When we found you at the ticket booth you were happy as can be. We thought we'd find you crying. The teenage boy who was watching you said you were quiet as can be, just sat in that little nook in total silence. You were such a funny kid." There's a mystical air to her tone telling the story, because she loves to reminisce in that way, and unfortunately you really, really don't. Because that was the time of your life when your dad was still around, and despite the years of therapy you still can't move past it all.

"Yeah, I remember," you placate her, sighing. You wish you could travel to see her today, just to calm her nerves and make her not worry, because her worrying is the absolute last thing you want. As you stare out the window you see the sky is a bit clearer, and there don't appear to be many flakes still falling. But the snow is still thick and there's surely ice everywhere. You're not even sure if the three separate subway lines you have to take to reach her house are still running.

"Well, sweetie, the weather report said the snow's finally supposed to let up today, so maybe you can get some fresh air soon."

"That sounds good," you mutter, rolling over in bed. "I should go make some breakfast, I'm feeling really hungry. Thanks for calling, love you," you finish the call.

"Okay, love you too sweetie. Talk to you soon," she replies, before you hang up the call.

New Year's Day. You'd forgotten yesterday what day it was, and had been sort of avoiding your phone because of Yunho's texts and calls. You hadn't stayed up till midnight, hadn't welcomed the New Year in any way. You were surprised Yunji hadn't said anything, but then again neither of you really were the types to party or celebrate holidays much. You both had bad memories of them from growing up, or good memories that had turned bad once you'd matured and looked back without your naiveté. And your face and posture were probably screaming 'leave me alone,' Yunji always able to tell if you were upset. You were thankful for that, thankful that she knew how to leave you alone when you needed the space. Really, what did it matter what day it was? New Year's was like any other day of the year, it just had the honor of being first in the lineup. So why was your head spinning so much? Why couldn't you stop thinking about what your resolutions should be?

The morning was strange, even with a delicious bagel and a warm cup of Jasmine tea. It felt strange seeing the sky after it had been covered for days; it even felt strange looking out your living room window to the front yard, the snow on the street gray and muddy and pounded down by the tracks of the few brave souls who'd trekked out or driven in this weather. You saw one neighbor diligently shoveling snow off her driveway, bundled up head to toe in a giant puffy jacket and boots that looked too big for her. Her head snaps up, and you walk towards the window to see what she's seeing; a snow plow was making its way down your street, the drivers finally able to start their work today now that the worst of the storm was behind you. Even the sidewalks looked not so bad, as the clear day had allowed the sun to begin melting the thick snow, the air hot enough that it might not be too icy out there. Something in you called at you to go outside, but the second you thought about it a wave of dread hit you, and you knew you'd be too scared. It would be another day stuck in here, another day avoiding Yunho's texts and feeling so guilty, and you weren't sure if you could take it.

It had gotten to that point now. It had been so long since you felt like this, like you'd rather die than live another moment. Now, just like the first time, you felt so ridiculous and shameful for feeling that way, looking around to see the physical evidence of your privileged life. Your safe and cozy apartment, the food filling the fridge, the brand new washing machine you'd both bought yourselves as a Christmas gift. How could this be so awful? You had all sorts of entertainment, anything you could need to keep you busy while you waited for these snow days to end. You could be updating your resume, starting the search for a new job. You could be calling Yunho back, and trying to find a way through your conflict. You could be doing yoga, meditating, making soup from scratch, reading, writing, learning a new language...

It all sounded horrible. Your mind was collapsing on you, but this time you're not a kid, this time you don't have a great excuse. You'd let some petty drama taint your every waking moment, and you didn't have anyone to blame but yourself. You were too scared to do the right thing, you could see that now, that back when this conflict had started you'd assumed your boss and everyone else would side with you, just because they already knew you. You'd let Yunho get under your skin, to the point that every word he uttered made you angry, letting him in so deep that there was no way out. Not now. You knew this wouldn't be resolved, because you couldn't do it; you could never admit these things to him that you'd just admitted to yourself. You could never apologize, never acknowledge that you played a part. You'd sat yourself staunchly in a position, the innocent one who'd been wronged time and time again by the aggressor, and stepping down from that pedestal would hurt you more than you thought you could bear.

It was the shame of fucking up. Of not being perfect. A conversation from therapy, from almost ten years ago, ricocheted to the front of your mind. 'You're quite a perfectionist, y/n. Do you realize that? It makes you avoid doing certain things, even if you know they're the right thing to do.' You can still see your old therapist's face, her glasses near the tip of her nose as she eyed you. How could you still be right where your fourteen year old self was? You looked like her too, your skin burning with embarrassment at how you hadn't realized that yourself. It felt humiliating to have to be told, because that in and of itself proved you were imperfect. That you weren't totally and completely self aware. The biggest shame you carried was knowing that despite how hard you tried, you never were very good at knowing yourself.

You laid face down on your bedroom floor. You didn't have the energy or motivation for anything else. You knew clinically speaking, this looked like the start of a depressive episode. But you hadn't had one in years now and were out of practice. What were you supposed to do now? All that felt okay was sinking more into your head, letting the darkness envelop your mind and take you on a ride through your worst memories, your heart racing despite your complete lack of physical exertion.

By early afternoon you'd had enough of that horrifying roller coaster. When you sat up your neck ached, your body screaming at you to never collapse in that position again. You felt jittery, restless, but nothing at home sounded appealing still, not in the slightest. Your eyes catch on your winter boots in the corner of your room, too big to fit on the shoe rack by the front door. And suddenly your mind is made up in less than a second. It was time to go for a walk, to get out of the house. Maybe the cold air would clear your mind.

"Hey, I'm gonna go grab some snacks at Smith's, do you need anything?" you call through Yunji's bedroom door.

"You're going out in this weather?" she asks, opening it.

"The snow let up a lot today, and I'm running low. And I'm feeling too cooped up. It's only five blocks, I'm sure I'll be fine."

"Ok, well, I don't think I need anything. I stocked up on Pocky last time we were there. Are we almost out of toilet paper or paper towels?" she asks.

"No, I just checked," you respond.

"Okay. Be careful," she says, smiling.

"I will, I promise," you say before walking toward the front closet, grabbing your big winter coat and zipping it up.

The outside air is a shock as it greets your face, making your cheeks turn pink almost instantly. The world is still bright, the sun shining the warmest it will all day, but you can see darker clouds off in the distance. You hope they aren't moving too fast; there is only a slight breeze in the air, and mostly it's just so quiet, even with a second snow plow heading down your street. It does feel relieving, a least a little, to finally be outside, and a part of you feels proud for actually going out, given how scared you were this morning. You feel like you're maybe proving to yourself that you aren't such a wuss, that you aren't so prone to avoiding things that one day it'll ruin your life. You walk briskly, your nerves buzzing as your heart rate rises to keep you warm.

It feels nice to be buying your favorite snacks, and you're able to get lost in the normalcy of it for a few minutes. The store is almost empty, so you try making light conversation with the one cashier working, his long hair covered in a beanie. Strolling back outside you're met with the chilly air again, a gust of wind nearly knocking you off your feet as you make your way through the small, empty parking lot. You could have sworn you were only in there for maybe ten or fifteen minutes, but the sky looks almost completely different now, those dark clouds having descended on your area. You start your way back up the hill, bracing yourself against the growing winds, when the sky lets out a low rumble that shakes you to your bones. Suddenly it's raining, the air warm enough to turn the snow into sleet, and it's soaking your face and your hat and your gloves faster than you can believe. The paper bag holding your snacks is disintegrating in your hand, and you shove it under your coat to try to protect it, the cold bag on your stomach making you shiver.

"Fuck, this was a bad idea," you mutter to yourself, shakily making your way finally into your neighborhood, crossing the street that separates the houses from the row of commercial buildings. Your whole body is shaking, your head turned to the ground as you try to avoid getting sleet in your eyes and try to avoid falling. You're moving much slower than you were on your way to the store, carefully planting your feet one in front of the other as you hold your snacks against your stomach. Your brain feels fuzzy, the wind whipping past your ears, and all you can manage to think is, 'just make it home, just make it home.' It's only about three more blocks, you should be able to make it just fine, if you just keep putting one foot in front of the other, if you just keep going, keep goin-

Suddenly someone has grabbed you, your body thrown up like a rag doll, your upper half thrown over their shoulder. You let out a guttural scream, the sound hoarse and weak and getting lost in the storm. You're furiously flailing your legs, wiping the water from your eyes to try to get a look at anything, your lungs heaving as you scream again, this time, "Let me go!!"

The grip on your legs only tightens after your outburst, and then you're hearing a door whooshing open, warmer air greeting you as you enter some house, your eyes able to make out hardwood floors and the large boots of whoever's holding you hostage. You're breathing ragged, trying to get ahold of yourself and figure out where the hell you are, and when you catch a glimpse into the front closet of this house you see those navy blue shoes, with that very unique toe box...

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez yunho #yunho x reader

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gooobraghhh · 2 days ago

Note

playing with the toys i got has been so much fun >:3 the dildo is like 19cm/7in and it's nearly too big. i have yet to fit all of it, and the first night it arrived i came just from the tip. i guess i have some practice to do. it ruined all my plans for NNN this year lol.

i have some ideas of scenarios i can put myself in with all my toys that make my little tdick throb just thinking about. i also need to train my ass so that i can take the dildo in there too. only thing is i wish it was a girl's real cock rather than a toy, of course :(

i haven't gotten to use the vibe i got as much cause i still live at home and it's hella loud.

i hope this all isn't too explicit, im worried about being Too Much and all that ; ; i hope you're doing well!!

🧸

It’s alright you aren’t being too much

It’s so sad hearing about a trans masc using toys for the first time and I don’t even get to be there. Being with an inexperienced pup has been sounding very fun recently.

Take your time with anal, sounds like you have a big toy and also haven’t done anything before so fair warning it is going to feel bad if you push yourself too much. Be patient, use lots of lube and maybe start with smaller things you can insert like your fingers. Cant remember if you said you got a plug but those help a lot. When I first started doing anal I thought it was just always bad and I wouldn’t like it but that has turned out to be very untrue for me at least.

Wishing you luck pet <3

#trans nsft #mtf dom #t4t nsft #mtf nsft #ftm ns/fw #ftm nsft #ftm sub #ftm puppy #gooobraghhh asks

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ardentblossomings · 1 day ago

Text

"Which mage will betray us next?"

I know this has been a meme within the dragon age fandom for years, but honestly, two out of four betrayals are completely subjective, in my opinion. Spoilers for the plots of every main dragon age game!

Morrigan's betrayal came first. Or, at the very least, that's what people would like you to think. After all, she leaves, and there's a literal "Witch Hunt" DLC. But aside from the fact that you can do said DLC even as an Orlesian Warden, who has very little to do with Morrigan, what has she actually done wrong in the first place? From the very beginning, Morrigan makes it clear that her mother made her come with you, and that she herself feels rather out of place. You even get the option to betray her yourself (e.g. through not following through with her wishes regarding in how you deal with Flemeth). She's closed off, standing far, far away from the other people at your camp, and doesn't want to be your friend, or even your romantic partner. She doesn't want to get attached to someone she might hurt. Yes, Morrigan as a whole doesn't seem to be too interested in making friends, but it's you specifically she's the most reluctant with. Even at the very end, she makes it clear that it is your choice in how to proceed, but no matter what, she will have to leave. The main difference is that if you date her, she will care too much to keep you out of sight completely. But she's always upfront about having her own agenda, and about what kind of boundaries she wants to set. It is you who breaks those boundaries, or makes the decisions. You are the one to decide on the fate of the Old God's soul, and you are the one to decide to follow her. This is where the deciding factor begins: If you are dating her, she arguably betrays you by leaving you behind and taking your child with her. If you are an elf, especially a Dalish elf, she arguably betrays you by stealing from the Dalish. Even if you are a mage, you can argue that the same applies because of the arcane knowledge she has gained. Any other situation? She doesn't technically betray you, though you may still feel that way.

Second came Anders, the Warden who never even told you his name. At least, according to World of Thedas - he's simply a man from the Anderfels, which is why he's called Anders. Depending on your choices in Awakening, you might already feel like some of the things he tells you in Exodus (DA2) are a betrayal, going against the experiences you've shared with him. The main betrayal, however, comes in the final act, where he involves you directly in his plans to blow up the chantry. There is no way around it: Unless you are in a rivalry with him, he lies to you, and you are none the wiser. People die because of him - and you are his accomplice. How you feel about all of this, if you can forgive him or not, doesn't really matter. Hawke, unlike perhaps the player, feels betrayed. And so do their companions - especially famously Sebastian.

Third comes Solas in Inquisition. He plays the humble mage, travelling alongside you while telling half-truths and avoiding lies. Solas doesn't lie to the Inquisitor. At worst, he stretches the truth or omits important details. Solas genuinely thinks he will need to betray you - even plans to do so. But, arguably, he doesn't even do that. From beginning to the end (of Inquisition), he helps you, guides you, mirrors you. Do you treat him well, inquire further? He is more than happy to share his knowledge with you, even when twisting some details. Do you act unkind towards him? He will become true to his name - prideful, arrogant, just like the Inquisitor that doesn't care for his thoughts. Until the very end, Solas tries to help, making it clear what he wants to protect and how he feels about things. He even leads you to Skyhold, for crying out loud. He, just like Morrigan, is reluctant to get closer, romantically, to the Inquisitor. Unlike Morrigan, he is willing to be your friend the moment you show him kindness, at least for the time being. Once again, paths begin to change when we hit his DLC, perhaps even earlier if you count romancing him and him leaving you bare faced (or not). You can view this as a betrayal, just like you can view Trespasser as a betrayal. But you can also see it as him leaving hints for you to follow, and you trespassing in his crossroads. Solas allows you to glimpse into his past, allows you to find him, and even saves your life - even if he dislikes you. The main problem? He now tells you of his plans for the future. And, needless to say, they are deeply flawed. And yet, from Trespasser to Veilguard, he leaves a million hints as to where you can find him and learn more about his plans - almost as if he never wanted to get into this position to begin with.

Finally, it's Solas again. Veilguard spoilers. This time, he definitely betrays you. First, he keeps Varric's fate from you, then he lies about his thoughts on blood magic (having used it himself), and finally, he seeks to imprison you in his stead. But he doesn't stop there. Even after all of this, Wisdom has been twisted into Pride - he feels like he has to right the wrongs he has done because of Mythal, and he can't break free from what he feels is his purpose. Even at the cost of betraying his protége, again, and again, and again. He wants to destroy the Veil at any cost. And neither friends, nor lovers, are capable of stopping him - only Mythal, the very being that twisted his purpose, can set him free. Or Rook can make the ultimate sacrifice, imprisoning themself alongside Solas once more. This is where Veilguard really, truly succeeded for me - it made me hate Solas a little. Not because he is a bad person, but rather, because it is so easy for Justice to become Vengeance.

After all, Mythal was the goddess of Justice, while Elgar'nan was Vengeance. And yet, Flemeth wasn't always just, and Fen'Harel didn't always act according to his own wisdom. Just like Anders was supposed to be possessed by Justice, and yet, his skill tree makes it clear that Justice has already become Vengeance.

If we take the bigger picture into account - Morrigan stealing Dalish tomes and eventually becoming Mythal herself, aiding those very same Dalish she stole from, just like her mother before her, seems even less like a betrayal. Moreover, if you were dating her, you have the option to stay with her - just like the Warden eventually chooses to leave. As for Solas - it entirely depends on your thoughts on him. If you count Inquisition and Veilguard as one whole thing then, yes. He definitely betrayed you. If not? Well, it is up for you, Inquisitor, to decide.

#dragon age #veilguard #veilguard spoilers #dragon age the veilguard #dragon age veilguard #dragon age meta #not nao please

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s4bbatical · 1 day ago

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Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want | Part 2 (Rivals Declan O'Hara x Reader 18+)

Part 1 here.

Warnings: Profanities, smut, alcohol consumption and cigarette use. Age gap (reader!22)

MINORS DNI

You were in a separate room at the Corinium with Seb, Declan, and Cameron Cook, discussing how to take down Rupert Campbell-Black. Ever since the incident at the Jones' dinner party, Declan has been hell-bent on taking down Rupert. There were folders filled to the brim on his desk with blackmail, although much of it was already public news.

"We've done all this research on Rupert," Seb starts, looking toward the three of you from the bulletin board of newspaper cuttings. "But what if he won't agree to be interviewed?" He queries.

"Don't worry, he will." Cameron affirms, leaning over the desk. "Alright. So, we start with the horsewhipping and move up to the cabinet minister's wife and his daughter."

"Wrong," Declan interjects. "English people care more about horses than they do women. We end with the horses and the Olympics."

You scoff, Tony Baddingham entering the room rather abruptly to sneak a glance at the work the team has done collectively.

"Imagine if this works," Tony says, his hands on his hips. "We annihilate the smug fucker on national television."

"Well-" You begin.

"Hello." Charles Fairburn says, entering the room suddenly with clipboard in hand. "What time do you want us all for the party tonight, Declan?" He asks eagerly.

"Oh. Wasn't expecting to see you there, Charles." Tony says with arrogance.

"Um," Declan closes his eyes with annoyance. "Eight o'clock should be grand. Are you okay Charles?" He asks. "You look a little worn."

"Uh, my mother's not been very well." Charles responds. "There's only me, so it's not been easy."

"Sorry." Declan says.

You look over at Seb, who simply shrugs as the rest of the room continues to make conversation about the party.

"Are you going?" You ask, to which Seb nods.

"Taggie invited me, I'm assuming you as well?"

"Yeah, she did." You and Taggie became friends over the French four-course menu at the Jones', assisting her with the menu due to her dyslexia. There was a fiasco over Rupert groping her, to which Declan nor you took well the next day in office. You were invited to the dinner for some reason, although you knew it was per Freddie's request. He saw something between you and Declan that no one else did, that was for certain.

"And Cinderella will go to the ball," Tony says, placing a hand on Cameron's shoulder and bringing your attention back to the room. "Just not this one. Happy New Year, all." He announces, walking away as Declan presses his hand to his forehead.

You hear a champagne bottle pop in the distance, wincing with your two higher ups.

"Oh Christ, it would be quieter to work from home." Declan states. "Let's pick this up next week, yeah?" He asks of you and Seb, the both of you nodding as the commotion in the office becomes louder. He leaves hastily, you and Seb lingering behind to gather your belongings.

"See you later, yeah?" Seb says rhetorically, a grin spreading across his face.

"Yeah, see you." You say, exiting the office briskly to eventually make your way home as your duties were no longer needed for the afternoon.

As you cooked yourself a mediocre meal with the radio playing in the distance, the phone rings. You turn off the stove, wiping your hands on the hand towel hanging off your stove as you take the phone off the hook. "Hello, y/n speaking." You say.

"Hey, it's Taggie." Taggie says timidly on the other side of the phone.

"Taggie, hi! What's up?" You ask, leaning against the wall.

"I just need someone to talk to, y/n." She explains, sighing. "It's too grand of a party my mother has thrown, I feel like I'm drowing in potato peels. Plus, she's sat herself beside Rupert." She says harshly, groaning as you hear yelling in the distance.

"Are you serious?" You say, twirling the cord between your fingers. "What a mess, Christ. Are you okay?" You ask,

"No, I just..." She sighs. "Remember that Ralphie boy I told you about? Well, he's shown up with a girlfriend." She exasperates.

"Oh, Taggie... Gag me with a spoon!" You exclaim, using your west coast slang. "I can come over earlier if you'd like, it's no problem at all." You say.

"No, no." She says, speaking to someone else in the room quickly before returning to the phone. "It's alright. I'll see you at eight, yeah?" She reaffirms.

"Yes, of course. Be easy on yourself, please. We can get super fucking drunk together and forget about it all." You jest, hearing Taggie laugh on the other line.

"Yes, course. See you later, y/n."

You hang up the phone, sighing as you cross your arms. Tonight was going to be real grand, whether you liked it or not.

You pull up to The Priory with your car that you bought for cheap, the engine louder than the camera shutters in the distance. You turn off your vehicle, stepping out of it and closing the door behind you. A velvet dress mimicking the style of the 40s clung to your waist, your hair cascading just past your shoulders. The blinding of camera flashes hits you as you approach the home, gripping your clutch for dear life.

"Y/n!" Daysee yells, beckoning you over.

You join her eagerly, entering the house together. You were taken aback by the guests and decorations, a glass of champagne already shoved in your hand. You and Daysee approach Sarah Stratton, who was accompanied by Lizzie and and James Vereker.

"I thought there was supposed to be celebrities here tonight." Daysee says in a tone of disappointment.

"Well there's definitely one." James chimes, referring to himself.

"Where?" Daysee says excitedly, looking elsewhere as you stifle a laugh at the interaction.

You glance around the room, noticing Taggie on the other side. You make your way over to her, placing your now empty glass on a table surface.

"Taggie!" You exclaim, getting the attention of your friend.

She instantly smiles, meeting you in the middle to give you a hug. "God, I'm so happy to see you y/n." She says, rubbing your arms before dropping her hands to her sides. "If I have to keep watching Ralphie with his girlfriend I might put a barrel in my mouth." She mutters, grabbing ahold of your hand. "Care for a tour?"

"Always, love." You say, grinning as Taggie leads you away from the crowd. You pass Declan, giving him a smile and a wave as you disappear around the corner, his eyes scanning over your entire body within seconds.

Taggie grabs a bottle of wine from the kitchen table, taking a swig before handing it over to you. "He gifted me a bracelet, I just thought I meant more than that." She whispers, putting her head in her hands as Caitlin bursts into the room.

"The bracelet's from Rupert!" She exclaims, nearly clearing you as you hold onto the table for stability. "Christ, sorry y/n." She exclaims.

"What?" Taggie says in dismay.

"It's 'R' for Rupert! He feels bad for touching you up at the Jones's." Caitlin exclaims.

You scoff, rolling your eyes as you take a swig of the wine bottle.

"Sounds about right. Too much money, too little sense." A woman you have yet to get the name of comments as her son lays upon the kitchen table beside her.

"Oh, wow. England is surely more entertaining than home." You mumble, scratching the back of your head. "What are you gonna do Tag?" You ask, Taggie looking off to the side in thought as she takes off the bracelet and discards it by the sink.

"Nothing." She snaps, taking an open bottle of champagne and swigging it. "Let's go celebrate Patrick's birthday, yeah?" She remarks, exiting the kitchen as you and Caitlin exchange worried looks.

The three of you re-enter the dining space, Caitlin explaining that your name card was beside hers, and shockingly beside Rupert Campbell-Black and Maud O'Hara. You watch with curiosity as Maud laughs a little too loud at Rupert's remarks, your eyes trailing elsewhere. You find yourself looking at Declan, who was watching Maud.

He says something dismissively to Tony's wife before standing up and walking away, taking a path that led him outside.

"I'll be back." You tell Caitlin, who nods in response. You follow Declan through a door that leads towards the open acres, spotting him lighting a cigarette in the middle of a field. You slowly approach him, holding the bottle of wine to your chest.

He spots you, taken aback by our presence. "Y/n, nice to see you." He says warmly, putting out the cigarette in the grass underneath his shoe.

"Likewise." You say, standing face to face. "How're you doing?" You ask, taking a swig of your bottle.

He raises his brows at your bottle, chuckling. "Could be better. How'd you get ahold of my wine?" He asks, pointing to the vessel in your hand.

"Taggie." You simply say, stretching out your arm. "Would you like some?"

He hesitates before taking the bottle, taking a large swig from it before sighing. "So you know about Ralphie, then?"

"Yeah, real pity. Your daughter is wonderful, he's cruel to not realize that." You say, taking the bottle back as Declan hands it to you.

"Thanks for being here for her, she really admires you." Declan says, smiling. "We both do." He admits.

You begin to smile, white knuckling the neck of the bottle. "She has a great father, that's why she's so lovable Declan." You say, giving him a look of longing. "I see Maud's distracted." You bring up cautiously, watching as Declan pulls out another cigarette and lights it. You hear Foreigner's I Wanna Know What Love Is start to play in the distance, setting the mood in a rather ironic feat.

"No, really? I had no idea." Declan spats, looking up at the dark night before returning your gaze. "I have tried everything! Fucking everything to keep her happy, yet for some bloody fucking reason it's my god damn fault!" He yells, breathing heavily as you watch him with wide eyes.

"Declan-" You try to interject.

"She goes on and tries to fuck whoever she wants but I can't help but feel guilty whenever I look at you! God that fucking dress of yours!" He exclaims, gesturing towards you. He doesn't realize what he has admitted until he sees your reaction.

Your jaw drops slightly, taking in his words. "You... what?" You whisper.

He stares at you, his actions dawning over him. "Y/n, I-I'm sorry. That wasn't supposed to come out like that." He admits, tossing his second cigarette to the ground. He takes a step closer to you. "Ever since you started working at Corinium, you have never left my mind. You are the one thing I cannot let myself have, yet I think of you every waking hour." He explains, watching you closely as he continues. "When we danced at Bar Sinister and you left me in the dust, I felt defenseless. I wanted you so fucking badly, but I kept thinking of Maud. But now that I'm here, I don't care anymore. She can have what she wants, as long as I can get what I want." He whispers, pressing his forehead against yours.

You toss the half-empty bottle of wine to the side, letting it pour onto the grass as you grab his face and press your lips against his.

He eagerly pulls you in, hungrily kissing you like he had been waiting for centuries. You pull at his tie, undoing a the first few buttons of his shirt to reveal his chest, running your hands over it. The two of you fall to the ground, Declan unzipping your dress slightly to move his hand underneath the fabric. He maneuvers his free hand between your legs, rubbing gently against the fabric of your underwear as you moan against your own will.

"Declan-!" You say, tilting your head back in pleasure as his fingers slip into you, pumping feverishly as he reconnects his lips with yours.

"Y/n," He moans, kissing across your jaw as he begins to suck on the space between your neck and collarbone. His other hand finds your breast, kneading it gently as you try to keep your composure.

You couldn't believe that Declan O'Hara was fingering you by the tree line, but sometimes wildest dreams come true. You nearly yelped as you felt his mustache graze your clit, his mouth now fucking you as his fingers teased your bulb.

"Declan, please." You whimper, your hand running through his hair as he looked up at you from between your legs. You find yourself nearing your climax, your thighs pressing against his head as your back arches in ecstasy. You finally come undone into his mouth, your hand pushing his head away as you became too sensitive to the touch.

Declan smiles as you as he sits up, pulling you forward by your lower back to reconnect your lips. You could taste yourself on his mouth, somehow even more enamored by his actions.

"God, you are so beautiful when you cum, y'know that?" He murmurs, pressing more kisses along your neck.

You smile in contentment, tilting your head back. "If you enjoy it so much, do it as many times as you wish Declan." You whisper, pressing kisses against his ear as your hand palmed against his groin.

He groans, pulling his head back. "Mm, we'll have to arrange meetings in my office then." He says, kissing you once more. You start to undo his pants, which he tsks you for. "We have my son's birthday to celebrate. This can wait." He murmurs, redoing the button on his dress pants as he stands up, offering a hand.

You eagerly grab his hand, pulling yourself up onto your unstable legs. "Do you think anyone saw us?" You whisper, looking around.

"No, I highly doubt it. Everyone's inside completely smashed." He reassures, not realizing Charles had been waiting out in the garden for his secret lover, watching every move made between the two of you against his own wishes.

"For both of our sakes, I hope not." You say, recouping as Declan gestures for you to re-enter the home, giving himself a minute by lighting up another cigarette and fixing his attire before he enters.

A few moments later, you find a space between Seb and Taggie as Declan joins his wife in singing Happy Birthday for Patrick.

The clover cake is lit up beautifully, Patrick blowing out the candles as you all cheer. The attendees all sit down hastily as Declan begins his speech by tapping on the mic repetitively.

"Today we celebrate my son, Patrick, who was born New Year's Eve, 21 years ago." A few yells echo through the space before Declan continues, your eyes watching him closely.

"My son, makes me prouder than any father ever was." Declan says, attempting to hold back tears as you and Taggie awe in sync. "Yeats wrote, 'Life is a long preparation for something that never happens'. But when I look at my son..." He takes a beat, looking directly at Patrick. "I think Yeats was wrong." He places a hand on his son's shoulder before continuing. "My son was a brilliant boy, who is now a brilliant man. He has happened." He says towards the crowd, raising a glass.

You notice Taggie seeming disheartened by the statement, your hand placed upon her shoulder in silent comfort as she gives you a soft smile.

"So please raise your glasses for my clever boy, now a man. To Patrick!" Declan finishes, the entire room whopping with joy for his son.

"Are you okay?" You whisper to Taggie, who simply nods.

"I'm fine." She whispers before Patrick takes hold of the mic.

Your paranoia with your actions between you and Declan were already taking flight as you worried about someone seeing the two of you earlier, grabbing ahold of a discarded glass of champagne and raising it in toast for Patrick before slamming it back.

Patrick thanks his parents, beginning to thank a third party before his words come to a halt.

"Holy shit. Celestial light." He says into the mic, causing the whole room to turn their focus on whatever he was looking at.

Cameron Cook.

The whole crowd murmurs as Patrick begins counting down for New Years. You check your watch, leaning towards Taggie as you see him walk towards Cameron. "He's way too early." You mumble, watching in shock as Patrick kisses Ms. Cook.

You glance over at Declan, who seems bemused by his son's actions before you move your gaze to Tony Baddingham, who was most definitely sleeping with Cameron and surely not pleased with the sight. No one seemed happy about the actions bestowed upon them.

You notice Taggie looking over at Ralphie and his girlfriend, causing you to place a quick kiss on her cheek to distract her. "Happy New Year!" You exclaim quietly, Taggie giving you a force smile before exiting hastily.

You noticed Rupert watching her moves, causing your brows to furrow at the sight of Mr. Campbell-Black.

The crowd starts to sing in song, random goers linking hands with you as you watch Declan from a distance. He makes eye contact with you, giving you a subtle wink as you both look elsewhere. You smiled to yourself, not realizing the weight of what was yet to come.

Happy New Year, indeed.

oh my oh wow oohhh naughty naughty... I think i have to do a part three now ohh noooo blasphemy. thanks for reading as always and please do interact with my posts, it reminds me to keep the ball rolling :D

much love,

isabel

#declan o'hara x you #declan o'hara x reader #declan o’hara #rivals #rivals fic #rivals 2024 #aidan turner

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