#life is a little bit in shambles

[saturnvs]

wanted to open my pride icon commissions this weekend but it'll have to wait because. sad

[blairamok]

i am absolutely returning to on thin ice stuff, just been going thru it. got a few more things to wrap up before i can continue working on my AU guilt free but i do have something commissioned in progress 👀 very excited for that

[monstermoviedean]

fall out boy said they don't love me :(

[sanguineselene666]

1000 posts!

Let’s all celebrate my unhealthy obsession!

[saintlesbian]

okay I know I hate Willow but. imma be a lil sad if she actually dies since I was hoping she’d be able to have some kind of relationship with Nina 😅 also nina will go completely insane if Willow dies um.

[bbokicidal]

First Times The Charm? | OT8 [SKZ]

Notes : This was a Drabble request someone sent in, so it's short, to the point, and simple. Hope you enjoy! Genre : Smut Warnings : 18+ Content Req : Giving SKZ head for the first time. <- But I altered it so it's not just 'you giving skz head for the first time' and rather, it's 'you giving skz their first head experience EVER.'

Chris :

He's so... so vocal. Constantly groaning, his voice low in his throat and gravely as if he'd just woken up. He's in Heaven, his head tipped back on the office chair he sat in. He's death gripping the poor arms of the chair, knuckles bright red from the flush that had covered his entire body. He, politely, refuses to touch you - partially because he's a little scared to and partially because he doesn't think he can move.

Minho :

In shambles. His body has a habit of trembling each time you take him in your throat and he swears he's never felt anything so good in his life. He's laid back in his bed, one arm draped over his eyes while the other sticks by his side, fingers splayed in your hair; gently pushing your head down each time he needs a little more. You learn very quickly he's a bit of a head pusher.

Changbin :

Stiff as a rock, but also a little tense and unsure. He's so shy seeing you between his fucking thick ass thighs already, his ears bright red and his cheeks warm with excitement. He loves it, he really does, he's just - He's got a bad habit of being a bit jumpy when people touch him. So when you go all the way down on his dick and deep throat him? His thighs snap shut around your head and he nearly suffocates you, not realizing it had happened until you have to slap his stomach and make him let you go. Not that it was that bad of an experience. You'd die happy there.

Hyunjin :

All vocals. Moaning, whining - even chuckling as you slurp on his cock. He's a bit arrogant when it comes to you giving him head. Even though it's his first time getting head from anyone, he's cocky about his size as it bulges in your throat and makes you choke. When he gets closer to release though, he's all breathy and sucking in air, biting his bottom lip as his hand rests atop your head.

Jisung :

So wiggly, so squirmy. Full of the jitter bugs as you go down on him. He's whiney. Very very vocal, very loud - so loud in fact that Minho has to tell him to shut up from the next room over. He gets all embarrassed, sliding his sweater sleeve over his hand and pressing it to his mouth to muffle his whimpers that escape. Also Lowkey fucking up into your mouth because he just can't keep still. Will ask you to eat his ass afterwards.

Felix :

Extremely laid back. The master of acting like he's had it before but you can tell by the blush dusting over his freckles that he's never had it done to him before. (He also told you that, but.) He's lounging back in his gaming chair and he's adoring the sight of you sucking on him like a lollipop. He loves the sounds you make, the soft moans and the wet noises from your tongue dragging on his cock. And he's a bit vocal too - all low moans and huffs of breath escaping his lips. He's very chill about it, but by the time he's coming down your throat his hands are on the back of your neck and he's humping your face.

Seungmin :

Refuses to touch you because he's shaking so much. He's near silent most of the time but he can tell that when you pause to look up at him for a reaction, he'll nod as quick as he can so you know it's perfect. He's falling apart under your touch, lying in his bed and subtly rocking his hips up into your mouth because of how much he loves it.

Jeongin :

Tou.chy. Touchy!! He's all over you, can't keep his hands to himself. At first he's cupping your face, but then he feels like he's in the way of your work so he's just resting them on your shoulders then. But then he feels like he's pushing you, so instead he busies himself with gathering your hair and pulling it back - and he's got big enough hands so it's easy for him. And when he blows, he places a hand around your throat to gently push you away so he can paint your pretty face with his cum.

Perm Taglist: @dwaekkicidal @jabmastersurpriseee @possum-playground

[yueebby]

indulge me? — gojo satoru

synopsis you and gojo go on an overnight mission and it goes wrong in every way

contents so. much. pining. (2.8k words of it!?), one bed trope, whipped!gojo, ooc gojo, completely self indulgent, a lot of cardiovascular talk, they’re first years in this!

notes first time i’ve written in AGES. sorry :3 ps this is a little snippet from a satosugu x reader series im thinking about starting. thoughts?

(edit: i wrote a part ii)

Gojo Satoru was born blessed. From birth and to death he will always be honored. It wasn't his fault that the Heavens delighted in him. So when Yaga had announced that he and you would be sharing an overnight mission to Kyushu, he nearly leapt in joy (lucky him)!

You, on the other hand, were less than thrilled to find out that you were going to be traveling alone with Gojo Satoru. For two whole days. It was a death sentence.

“Make sure to text me, so I know you're not dead.” Shoko looks between you and Gojo. Either your head will implode as a result of Gojo, or he is gonna be on the receiving end of your wrath. Shoko can’t wait to see which.

“Do take pictures, I heard the onsens there are incredible.” Suguru slyly adds. Satoru perks up at his comment. The two of them share a knowing look before Gojo speaks up.

“Wanna take a dip with me once we get there, [Name]?” He looks into your eyes, his lips are quirked upwards like he’s up to no good (which he is). “I promise I won’t take a peek!” He winks.

“Keep fantasizing, Gojo.”

“Oh I will.” He hums happily. The smile on his lips is kind of cute, you decide. Just a little.

— — — — — — — 

Kurokawa, you come to find out is a very small town in Kyushu. So when people start to go missing, the entire town falls into shambles. Before your trip, Yaga had made it known the enemy you’d be facing. 

“A common denominator of the missing persons is that they were all young women.” He had warned you and Gojo. “It’s an unidentified curse, but I trust that the two of you will be able to handle it.”

Three missing girls. All under the age of 25. Two of which were locals, one being a tourist. 

The moment you arrive on the island of Kyushu, your guard is higher than ever. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Gojo.

“Don’t tell me you’re scared of some horny curse,” He looks down at you as the two of you make your way down a small street to your ryokan. Kurokawa was a traditional town, its pride resting on the old culture causing it to be untouched by modern architecture.

Unamused by his nonchalant attitude, you decide to ignore his vulgar comment, “What grade curse do you think we’re up against?”

He makes a noise to show that he’s thinking. “Does it really matter? It’ll be no match for me either way.”

You roll your eyes, “Don’t get ahead of yourself, we still have to figure out what happened to the victims.”

“I don’t see why that’s necessary, but okay.” Your snow haired peer dismisses. It makes you a bit envious that he doesn’t have to ever feel fear for his life. Must be nice.

The two of you arrived at your designated ryokan soon enough, it was a small town after all. Gojo leads the way with you following right after. You can’t discern any cursed energy in the building, but you still make a mental note to ask Gojo about it after you both are situated. 

An elderly lady in an orange kimono stood behind the desk, smiling at you and you returned it back happily.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen a young couple here.” She says. That’s right, with the recent disappearance of young girls, there would be a sudden decrease of tourism around this part of town. “You certainly are a beautiful match!”

You gratefully accept her compliment, “Thank you, but we’re not–”

“Thanks granny!” Gojo wraps a strong arm around your shoulder. “I don’t know how I even managed to win her over!” There’s a wide grin on his face that makes your eye twitch. Leave it to him to tell people the two of you were together. Not only that but he totally disrespected the old lady with his informal talk!

“Unhand me, you!” You forcefully whisper at him, while trying to unwrap yourself from his hold. His arm does not budge even as you try to push it off. What the hell is this boy eating? Gojo chuckles with the old lady while you struggle.

“My, the two of you remind me so much of my husband and I in the days of our youth,” She sighs dreamily. Her age must be interfering with her memory because there was nothing inherently romantic going on between you and Gojo. “How long will you be staying here?”

“Only one night,” Gojo decides that he has tormented you enough and lets you go. He slides her his card and she pulls out something from the old wooden counter she stands behind. 

A single key.

Your eyes bug out. Gojo’s eyebrows raise. You laugh nervously, face feeling warmer than it was thirty seconds ago.

“There must have been a misunderstanding. We need two rooms, ma’am.” You hold up two fingers to emphasize your point. 

The smile on the old woman’s face falls, “I’m afraid I cannot do that.” Your jaw drops.

“Huh? Why not?” You press on further. Surely they could not have been booked out of all of their rooms. Tourism is at an all time low after the strange disappearances.

“I’m sure you’ve heard of the strange disappearances in the area. It’s a miracle the two of you have even decided to stay here, which I am very grateful for. That is why I must repay you back by ensuring your safety. Otherwise I must ask you to leave and stay in the next town because I will not allow you to endanger yourself so carelessly.” 

You blink. Neighboring town? That was hours away. The curse was here in Kurokawa. You can’t afford to jeopardize a mission just because of your own feelings.

Gojo’s hand is halfway to the key, but he waits for your approval. You sigh.

“It’s fine, we can do one. Thank you.” You bow your head. She smiled apologetically as she handed Gojo the key. Gojo, unbothered by the revelation, whistles happily as the lady leads the way to your suite.

— — — — — — — 

operation satoru x [name]!!!!

Gojosatowu added getosugu, shoko.ieiri

Gojosatowu You wont believe it!!! shoko.ieiri What the hell is this gc And what the hell is Operation satoru x [name]?  getosugu  how come [name] isn’t in this? Gojosatowu Ladies, ladies, one question at a time please getosugu  Expect a forehead flick for that comment shoko.ieiri  Stfu and just answer the questions Gojosatowu alright alright [name] and i are sharing a room in kyushu!! i may come out of this mission a changed man. shoko.ieiri  someone make sure [name] is still alive and well Gojosatowu I dont appreciate your lack of faith in me >:( shoko.ieiri  Keep a six feet distance from her at all times perv Gojosatowu I might have to for my own sanity. What do you think she wears to bed? shoko.ieiri  You disgust me sometimes getosugu  Only sometimes? shoko.ieiri  Let me correct myself. You disgust me. Gojosatowu Im feeling the love :(

“What are you giggling to yourself about?” You place a hand on your hips as you watch Gojo smile at his flip phone.

“Oh don’t you worry about it,” He closes it. Weird. “What’s the living situation?”

You sigh. “Despite its traditional arrangement, there is a bed.”

Gojo perks up. “Yeesh I’m glad! If I had to sleep on the floor my back would be all sore right on a mission. Y'know how annoying that is?”

You suck your teeth. “Allow me to rephrase myself. There is only one bed.” 

There is an awful silence in the room, save for your erratically beating heart. Of course the old woman decided to place you in a couple’s suite.  

“Heh.” Gojo chortles happily. “Wow, this must be a divine sign from God Himself. I mean, who are we to ignore this?”

“Don’t start,” You hold out an accusatory finger at him. “I’m gonna go request an extra futon.”

He pouts, “Don’t be like that, sharing a bed with me can’t be that bad.”

“I’m willing to bet otherwise.” You walk past him. The white haired boy watches you go like a sad puppy.

— — — — — — — 

You took your time getting an extra futon, using it as an excuse to get all of the nervousness out of your system of sharing the same room as Gojo Satoru. Sharing a room with a boy was already bad enough, but Gojo? Your heart skipped a beat (out of nervousness, you insist!).

By the time you make it back to the room, the lights are out. You assume that Gojo decided to go to sleep early. You don’t blame him. Tomorrow is gonna be a long day of hunting for the curse rampaging Kurokawa. 

The only light source in the room is coming from the bathroom. You sigh. The idiot must’ve forgotten to turn it off. Nonetheless, you were gonna go get unready either way so you make your way to the half open door.

On the sink is a complimentary toothbrush that you help yourself to. You apply some paste and–

There is a sound of something sliding shut from behind you. You look up at the mirror. Standing behind you was Gojo. Wet. And naked. 

“Oh my gosh!” You spit out your toothpaste and ran out of the room. How did you fail to see that Gojo was in the restroom? You blame it on the sliding doors separating the shower from the rest of the bathroom. Oh my gosh. Your face feels like it’s on fire. He has a six pack. And why does his stupid hair look like that when it's wet? Your heart was beating at an abnormal rate. This is so inappropriate.

Shortly after your freakout, Gojo steps out of the bathroom. There was no way you could face him now.

“Aw, don't be so shy now. It’s not like this will be the last time you’ll see me like this.” Gojo stands in the doorway. There is a towel wrapped around his waist, still leaving him indecent in your eyes.

“I don’t like what you’re insinuating Gojo! And lock the door when you’re in the restroom you creep!” You look anywhere but him.

“Hey, it wasn’t my fault, was it? You were taking so long I thought you left me here alone.” You can practically hear him pouting. “Either way, you were the one checking me out.”

Your eyes widen, “I was not checking you out! Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Don’t feel ashamed, this can all be yours,” He gestures down to his body.

“You freak.” you blanch.

He winks at you.

This was going to be a long night.

— — — — — — — 

It takes you about half an hour to calm down from the bathroom catastrophe. By now, you’re situated in your futon while Gojo is tucked on the bed. If you had to guess, it’d be nearing midnight around now. You just need to close your eyes and get some sleep before your mission tomorrow.

Except you can’t sleep.

Every time you close your eyes, your mind betrays you and an image of Gojo post shower illustrates itself in your mind. And it doesn’t help that he sleeps shirtless. You seriously need your mind cleansed.

That wasn’t your only issue. The room was sub zero. Who knew traditional ryokans had such advanced air conditioning systems? All you could hear was the air conditioning machine overworking itself. You could even argue that it was colder than Shoko’s morgue. And your sleep shirt and shorts were doing little to help insulate you. 

“Wanna come cuddle with me?” The last person you wanted to hear from breaks the silence. You pretend to be asleep. “I know you’re not asleep! My six eyes tell me that you’re shivering.” Busted.

“I am not cuddling with you.” You stare at the ceiling above you, arms crossed. How could he even propose such an idea? Has he no shame?

“Well I can’t face the old granny here if my girlfriend ends up dead by freezing!”

“I am not your girlfriend, Gojo. Nor will I die.”

“That’s not what she thinks. Plus we have a mission tomorrow, so I can’t have you getting sick on me now.”

“I’ll be fine, Gojo. Now go to sleep.”

“I run hot when I sleep, y��know. Let me be your personal heater.” You don’t have to see his face to know that he’s grinning.

“I refuse.”

“Well I refuse your refusal.”

You blink.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Now c'mon,” He pats the spot next to him. “I’ll even make a wall in between us.”

You hear the bedsheets shuffle and you have to sit up to see that Gojo was stacking two pillows in the middle of the bed to prove his point. You’re nearly certain that the only thing you’ll be catching soon is a headache if you keep up with his antics. It was a tempting offer, one that you would surely accept if it wasn’t Gojo Satoru.

“Gojo, I—”

“...Please?” His voice is softer than you have ever heard it. It was unfair how Gojo was making it harder and harder to reject his offer.

A silent moment passes by.

“...Fine,” You reluctantly get up from your pathetic excuse of a futon. “But no funny business!” You warn him. 

You see Gojo perk up from the bed. He looks at you with expectant eyes, “You got it!” He gives you a thumbs up. 

Whatever. If Gojo knew what was best for him, he wouldn’t try anything. You take in a deep breath before turning to face the opposite direction of where Gojo laid. 

“Good night [Name],” You hear Gojo whisper. You sigh.

“Yeah, yeah, goodnight Gojo.”

Eyes closed, you pray a silent prayer that everything will be fine for the remainder of the mission.

— — — — — — — 

Ever since Gojo was young, his body has been used to getting little amounts of sleep. Unsurprisingly, that caused him to have a natural alarm. It was always annoying whenever he woke up at the crack of dawn on a day when he didn't need to, but luckily for him, today it proved to be a blessing. There was an unfamiliar warmth radiating onto his body. Satoru opens his eyes.

He thinks he feels all of his six eyes widen when he feels himself wrapped around another body.

There you were, in all your beauty, lying fast asleep. In his embrace. Soft snores were escaping your mouth and there were stray hairs in your face. Did he mention how beautiful you looked sleeping? He might have to ask Shoko about heart disease because of how fast his heart was beating.

Unfortunately for him, you also seemed to be drifting away from dreamland and back to reality. Your eyes flutter and your eyebrows furrow. Gojo takes this to his advantage and does the worst thing he can think of; pretend to be asleep.

When you wake up, your mind is still hazy from the good night’s rest you had gotten, but not hazy enough to realize that your body was tangled with another’s. And you’re pretty sure the pillow you had been laying on last night was not this hard. You try to delude yourself into believing that this is all a dream, but the effects of your sleep were fading.

It takes all the strength in you to summon the courage to open your eyes. To your horror, you were firmly wrapped in Gojo’s arms and your legs were intertwined.

“What the hell?” You pull yourself away from him. On the floor below the bed laid the two pillows that Gojo had set up as a makeshift wall. You stare at them utter shock.

“No, don’t go, I’ll freeze to death,” Gojo whines, miraculously waking up. You glare at him.

“Explain to me what just happened or I swear Gojo, I’m going to–” You try to threaten him, but you can’t seem to formulate anything.

Unlike you, Gojo looked unbothered by the sudden turn of events. He even looked pleased. There was a lopsided smile on his face as he sighed, “What can I say, I guess you subconsciously want me after all.” 

"I do not—"

“But if I had to guess, I’d say the room got too cold and we most likely cuddled for warmth unconsciously.” He shrugs it off like it was no big deal. You note that his hair is tousled from the night before.

You leave the warm bed you and Gojo had made. His theory was probably true, meaning it was neither of your faults. You purse your lips.

“I suppose that makes sense. I apologize for overreacting, I guess I was under the impression that we had done something lewd last night.” With that comment, you make your way to the bathroom to freshen up both your mind and body.

You don’t end up seeing how red Gojo’s face got. It was foreign to feel all the blood rising to his cheeks. He takes one of his hands to slap it over his eyes before chuckling to himself. Yeah, he definitely knows why he likes you. 

All of a sudden Gojo feels like he’s on top of the world. For you, it was just a moment of weakness.

┊⋆｡˚. ੈ ┊

Extra notes:

gojo wished he and you got to go to the onsen together. 

gojo also regretted not taking a photo of you sleeping soundly in his arms. it would’ve been his new wallpaper. 

for the remainder of the trip, gojo was at an all time high, successfully locating and exorcising the curse in less than an hour.

[minkieater]

EIGHT FIRST DATES ꨄ︎

003 》 KIM MINGYU

maybe boys your age just weren’t your thing. after a sudden lunch date, you were already half convinced the search was over— had you found the man you were bringing to your family’s thanksgiving? how will chan take the news?

wc ~10k | mentions of death, age gap, mingyu is hot, smut mdni, fingering, dirty talk

you’d thought about yunho’s words all the way until your head hit the pillow saturday night. no one’s ever said anything like that to you before– no one’s ever needed to. 

you knew yunho only cared for you the way your family, san and yeosang cared for you, but you couldn’t shake it. maybe it was just your brain on overdrive after the previous forty eight hours, maybe you were making something out of nothing. 

yunho’s always been nothing but honest with you, he wouldn’t say something without saying it. he had no reason to beat around the bush, if there was any bush to begin with. 

so— you shook it off and texted mingyu. at approximately nine forty eight in the morning on a sunday, feeling like you hadn’t gotten any sleep at all. 

you: hey this is tiny from last night :) 

— incoming call from kim mingyu…

you shot up in bed, your soul nearly leaving your body as you pressed the little green circle, your tired voice stumbling out a meek “h-hello?” 

“hey, it’s mingyu,” he sounded chipper, as if he’d been awake for hours already. you shot a hand through your hair, hopping out of bed as if he could see you through the phone. 

“i know who you are, i texted you,” you said, then shook your head, eyes screwed tight. you didn’t know if he’d hear the humor in your voice or if you sounded rude over the phone, you tried to play it off with “what’s up?” as you paced around your bedroom. 

“just finished up a meeting, heading home now. did you just wake up?” you could almost see his face over the phone, hear his smile. you threw your head back, all worries forgotten, knees bending to sit back on your mattress– he’s so hot. 

“maybe,” you bit your lip, fighting a smile. the little balls of cotton that had pilled up on your comforter were suddenly the most interesting thing ever, mindlessly rolling them between your fingers as he spoke. 

he laughed through the phone, a hearty chuckle that was music to your ears, “you think after you have a cup of coffee to wake your pretty head up, you’d be free to meet me for lunch?”

your eyes shot open, jaw falling open, “today?!” 

“yes today, silly girl, are you free?” you glanced around your room frantically as if something in there would give you the answer, but as you looked at your calendar hung on the wall and there was nothing but blank space under today’s date, there was zero reason to say no. 

you nodded as your words came out, “i- um, yeah i’m free.” your voice had become quieter, more coy— you couldn’t believe your own decision. 

“perfect, i have a place in mind, do you want me to pick you up or would you prefer to meet me there?” oh, your mind was in shambles. too many questions, too many decisions, far too soon after opening your eyes. 

“i wouldn’t want you to come all the way to get me, i can meet you,” you reassured him, a nervous chuckle following your words. 

“it’s no problem sweetheart, whatever you’re comfortable with. i’ll text you where and you let me know, yeah? i’m thinking two, does that work for you?” his voice was saccharine— you swooned over how sweetheart danced off his lips all the way through the speaker of your phone. you laid back, flat against your mattress, massive smile on your face. 

all you could respond was a breathy “that’s perfect.” 

you’d never gotten in the shower so fast in your life. with your hair still wet, a robe wrapped around your body, you raced down to the kitchen to make yourself a cup of coffee, smiling to yourself because mingyu was the one who mentioned coffee in the first place. 

ace was sat on the counter of the island, your sister’s head in the refrigerator, both chatting before you padded into the kitchen. 

“vi, grab me the oat milk please?” you asked as you poured your coffee into your mug. sixteen and in her sassy phase, vivi was an enigma, you swore she assumed the world revolved around her. 

she handed you the flavored oat milk with a lifted top lip, “gross.”

“first of all, it’s good. second of all, you say that every time as if i drink nut milk out of choice. i don’t want to be glued to the toilet all day,” you poured your milk into your cup, giving it a swirl before taking a sip. so good. 

she cracks a smile, “crazy how a wee sip of milk can take you down. weak shit.”

you roll your eyes then look to ace for help, who just throws his hands up in defense with an amused smile. him and vivi must be friends today. 

as you make your way out of the kitchen, vivi calls after you, “tiny, can you take me to work later?” 

“i won’t be home!” you yell back from the stairs, making your way back to your room. 

you had barely even started doing your hair before vivi was on your bed, a thousand questions on the tip of her tongue. “what are you doing that you won’t be home? all the boys are coming here.” 

“i know more people than just them, you know,” you rolled your eyes, your hands in your hair. 

a sarcastic chuckle fled her lips like she was waiting for that answer, “like who? karina, sakura?”

your jaw locks, as if hanging out with your cousins was embarrassing. it was true that you didn’t bring your friends from school around, or hung out with any of them much outside of classes. the boys had met some of them, the few times you’d brought them to the frats with you over the years — that quickly ended when ace hooked up with one too many of your friends. 

“i’m going on a lunch date,” you pointed your gaze at her through the reflection of the mirror, “can you leave so i can get ready?” 

with raised eyebrows she stood, “dad says you’ve been going on a lot of dates lately.”

your entire body tensed, “matt should mind his own business.”

“i don’t think it was an insult,” she shrugged, “i think it’s good you’re finally getting some.” 

you turned your entire body around to face her and snapped, “i think everyone should stop talking about what i’m doing, especially matt who has no fucking business talking to my little sister about who i’m seeing.” 

mascara coated lashes blinked at you, not an ounce of sincerity in her voice as she plainly said, “you really need to talk to someone, tiny.”

“get out of my room, vi,” you turned back around, fighting every ounce of anger in your body, only taking a deep breath as you watched her blue hair bounce out of your room. hearing her refer to matt as dad always made you see red, something you couldn’t let go of, you weren’t sure if you ever would. 

you got ready with a scowl on your face, waiting until the last second to put on mascara just in case tears decided to show themselves– in situations like this, they always seemed to.

you decided you’d meet mingyu, the restaurant he chose for lunch was only thirty minutes into the city and you didn’t want to risk repeating what happened with chan. when you briefly looked at the menu online before choosing an outfit, you nearly choked on air when you saw the selection of food and the prices. 

this was not a chill lunch date— this was a lunch date. 

you panicked the entire car ride, realizing you didn’t know shit about mingyu. you didn’t think meeting hyunjin was sketchy because you knew so much about him already, you spent days talking to him and learning about him before you went out, it was the exact opposite with mingyu. you’ve met him, but you didn’t know him. 

on top of that, no one knew where you were going, no one knew who you were meeting, which was a first — if your armpits weren’t dampening at a rapid pace you could probably convince yourself it was exciting. 

mingyu is older, that much you know. the owner of a distillery, absolutely. wealthy enough to take you on an expensive lunch date, that was new information. your heart only pounded harder against your chest when you pulled into a parking space. 

“hey, sweetheart,” and just like that, your heart calmed in your chest, your breathing became normal. he wore black denim jeans, a light gray shirt that clung to every inch of his chest, the light band of skin around his wrist where his watch sat yesterday told you he was sporting a tan. golden, muscular, kim mingyu was anatomically perfect. 

he had to lean down to kiss your cheek and you burst into flames where his lips met your skin. fingers fidgeting with your sleeve, the toes of your shoes touching, you felt so small under his gaze it was electrifying. 

“mister kim, right this way,” the hostess approached you, two menus in her hand, the other pointed in the direction of your table. she sat you at a window table, a four top, you and mingyu sat across from each other closest to the window. you placed your purse on the chair next to you, your armpits beginning to dampen all over again. you needed to relax. 

“how are you?” he asked, a knowing smile playing on his lips. you cracked, you must’ve been radiating nerves, a smile breaking out on your own cheeks. 

“good, slightly nervous, but good,” you nodded through a laugh, getting the words out with enough life to hopefully hide the real amount of nerves you were feeling. this was all so new. 

“nervous? no,” he gasped as if that was the silliest thing he’d ever heard, “how’s the little drunk blondie? did you get him home safe?”

“tucked him into bed and everything,” you nodded before you realized how that sounded, your eyes widening. “then i left– i just tucked him into bed. he was really drunk.”

“you don’t have to do that,” he pulled the menu into his hands, “i scouted you while you were on a date already, i’m well aware.”

your cheeks flushed as you grabbed your menu, grateful to have something to occupy your hands. your mouth pulled to one side, top lip swallowing your lower one. there was so much you wanted to know about him. 

your waitress came over and got your drink orders, mingyu also ordered a couple of his favorite appetizers, which you were grateful for, you hadn’t deciphered a single word off the menu yet. 

“speaking of blondie, you said he’s a friend from class, right?” mingyu met your gaze over his menu, “what are you studying?”

“education, i wanna be an elementary school teacher,” you nodded, “i’ve wanted to be a teacher ever since i can remember.”

you caught a glimpse of his canines in a smile, “are your students gonna call you miss tiny?”

you lifted your eyebrows, “that’s not a bad idea, actually. easy to pronounce, good for when i’m teaching phonics, too.”

he releases amusement through his nose, “you sound like a teacher already.”

“i should, i’m graduating this year,” you rack your eyes over the menu again, you almost wished they had a kids menu– there were too many options. 

“are you getting your bachelors degree?” he asks, settling himself into his chair, leaning into the back of it. you wished the table wasn’t between you– you wanted to see him leaned back, manspreading in all his glory. 

you nod in response and he points his eyes, “so that makes you… twenty one?”

“twenty two,” you correct, holding up two fingers. he shakes his head, smiling in disbelief, and all you can conjure up is “what?”

“i knew you were young, i was just thinking like twenty five young,” you think all the blood drained from your face as you stared at him, you must of had your question written all over your face. he holds up three fingers on one hand and makes a zero with the other, looking uneasy behind his hands. 

mingyu is… thirty. oh. you knew he was older from the jump. 

you lifted an eyebrow, “so?” 

he smiles. “i figured that would be a deal breaker.”

“it’s not every day the owner of a distillery hands you his business card and also happens to be under the age of thirty,” you shrug, “i don’t see why it would even be a concern, i’m an adult.”

he purses his lips, “your nickname is fitting, miss tiny.”

you roll your eyes again, “okay, your turn, thirty-year-old-distillery-owner kim mingyu.”

you didn’t know when you got comfortable, when words started freely flowing from your lips without a second thought, but you didn’t want it to stop. mingyu was too easy to talk to, the walls you had just put back up had come crumbling down within minutes— it was as if yunho didn’t say anything at all. 

the waitress drops off your drinks and appetizers then takes your entree order, you ordered whatever was least intimidating, the menu was so vast you couldn’t focus enough to even read the whole thing.  

“i’ll start with the distillery,” he says after a sip of his drink, he ordered his own brand of whiskey— neat. “i think it’s obvious i inherited it, the company was established in 1917, hence its name, by one of my ancestors back in the day. it trickled down the family tree until my dad inherited it in the seventies, then it became mine a few years ago.”

“so you’re a nepo baby?” you gave him a cocky smile as you picked at one of the appetizers, looking up at him through your eyelashes. 

he tried to frown through a very clear smile, his lips scrunched together, “technically, yes, but i did go to college, i double majored in business and marketing with a minor in finance.”

“the fuck?” your eyebrows flew to your hairline, a hand covering the food in your mouth. “how the hell did you have the time? the energy? the brain?”

he laughed, “like you, i knew what i wanted from a very young age, what was waiting for me in the future. seventeen’s been alive for over a century, i’ll be damned if it dies with me.”

you sat back in your seat, letting a breath out, processing the insanity that is a double major and a minor in those fields. “you’re fucking crazy.”

“i did it, though,” he cocked his head to the side, pointing a finger at you, “look at me now, seventeen is sold in over one hundred countries, in thousands of stores, distributed through retail outlets, liquor stores, and major chains. it’s insane to me that i can get it in places like this,” he looks around you, “we’ve had to expand production capacity twice in four different countries since i’ve been CEO.”

“damn,” you blink, “you’re like, kind of an important person.” 

he chuckles, “no, i’m just a guy that fucking loves whiskey. the first time i can remember trying it was when i was fourteen, my old man told me to ‘take a sip and be a man about it’.”

“my dad let me try red wine when i was probably eleven,” you shrug, “i did not like it, i spit it on the floor and cried. still to this day it’s not my favorite.”

“red wine is easy work,” he raised a brow, “be a man about it.”

you smiled, “trust me, i’ve tried.”

the rest of lunch came and went with constant conversation, you talked with full mouths and a competition of who’s voice could be louder, the both of you having stories that reminded the other of another story, the cycle beginning and never ending. after your plates were cleared and your drinks were empty, the talk still flowed, so deep down a rabbit hole you couldn’t remember where the conversation began. 

mingyu reminded you of someone– you couldn’t put a finger on it, there was something about the tone of his voice, how he teased you, how he spoke with such a maturity yet accompanied by a silliness, it was almost nostalgic with how comfortable you felt with him. it was like you’d known each other forever the way you spat stories back and forth, it was like talking with yunho, yeosang or san– except your memories weren’t shared. refreshing couldn’t even begin to describe it. 

the lunch began with you soaking through your shirt and a heart pounding against your chest, but ended with sadness, clear disappointment that it was over. you didn’t hide it, you couldn’t if you tried with the way mingyu hugged you goodbye. 

“what’s your schedule look like for the rest of the week?” he asked as you stood beside your car, your back leaned against the driver’s side door and mingyu towering above you. 

“classes wednesday, thursday, friday. they all finish around three,” you nodded, “but other than that, i’m totally free.” 

he turned his head to the side, looking at you through lowered brows and pointed peripherals, “no job?”

you playfully smacked his arm, giggling, “i am very blessed and grateful for the life i live.”

“i’d hope so,” he smiled, “i’m free most nights, i’m super free wednesday night, my meetings end early that day. come over to my place and i’ll cook for us?”

you gave him a look that said be for real, “you just want to show off your supposed super awesome and amazing cooking skills.”

“what’s wrong with that?” he smirked and you nearly jumped him, “if i were you, i’d be jumping in excitement to feast on my super awesome and amazing cooking skills.”

“i guess,” you sighed as if you had no other option, “depends what you’re making.”

“i guess you’ll have to find out,” he mimicked you with a wink and you were transported to less than twenty four hours ago, when he stood behind the bar, his bar, and winked for the first time. you think you might be the luckiest human on earth. “i’ll call you after my work dinner.”

“work dinner still sounds wrong, you need to come up with a better name for that,” you leaned up off your car to give yourself space to open the door, a part of you hoping he’d kiss you goodbye. 

“now it will never get a new name simply because it bothers you,” he doesn’t step back, instead he closes the distance, before you know it his hand is under your chin and his lips press to your cheek, his other hand reaching behind you to open your car door. 

your cheeks flush, eyes focused on the lips that just touched your cheek as he pulled away. he noticed, of course he did, a cocky smirk growing, “come and see me on wednesday for the rest.”

you’d make a noise of disgust if it didn’t completely work on you, your abdomen clenched at his words. you needed him more than you’ve needed anything else in your entire life, there was no question about whether or not you were seeing him on wednesday. from the moment you saw him you were wrapped around his finger— hopefully you really would be on wednesday. 

“goodbye, mingyu,” your cheeks flushed, trying to sound normal, ignoring how your entire fucking body went hot as you climbed into your car, “thank you again for lunch.”

“bye, miss tiny, talk to you later,” he closed your car door with a smile, and then he was off to his own. when he was out of view you took a deep breath, then squealed. you couldn’t wait to tell everyone about him.

he did call you sunday night, but also monday morning, monday night, tuesday morning, tuesday afternoon and tuesday night. even wednesday morning when he knew you were walking up to your first class, kim mingyu couldn’t leave you alone. you talked about anything and everything, he told you about his day, you told him about yours, you even let yeosang yell hello into the speaker once (it was actually against your will). 

you didn’t give anyone any details— what you shared with yunho you kept with only yunho, you came home sunday with a big dumb smile on your face, sitting on your couch with your mind still standing outside your car with mingyu. the boys had asked, nosy as they are, but you couldn’t bring yourself to share any details or even tell them what you had done. maybe that was your problem, maybe hyunjin would’ve worked out if you never said anything in the first place. 

you shook your head at the thought, hyunjin had a one track mind when it came to you. maybe a part of you wanted to keep mingyu all to yourself, you wanted to share your excitement only with him, or at least wait it out until there was more to tell. you’re optimistic, you could see something blooming with mingyu, you could see yourself being with him long term— you knew your family would eat him up. but one question sat at the pit of your stomach, one you tried to keep buried, one you shouldn’t worry about because no one else’s opinion of mingyu should matter except yours. 

standing outside the double doors to your class, you took a deep breath. chan hasn’t texted you since saturday other than ‘thanks for taking me home’ on sunday, you haven’t texted him other than responding to that one singular message. tuesday night you’d prepared everything you were going to say to him after class, how to let him down easy. 

“hey!” his smile was as bright as it usually is, shaggy blonde hair cascading down his forehead, oversized hoodie hugging his frame. 

“hey chan,” you returned the smile, setting up your laptop and books around you. you were nervous, palms slightly sweaty, hands not fully stable as you prepared your deskspace. 

“so, i have a proposition for you,” he starts, body turned fully towards you. oh no, is he asking you out again?

“proposition?” you quirked a brow, still not giving him your full attention as you logged into your computer, pulling up today’s lecture. 

“my roommate won’t stop talking about you,” he says so casually it catches you off guard. you stare at him with a blank look, he has your full attention now, fingers stilling on your keyboard. 

“…roommate?” you ask, face contorted into something of confusion and surprise, until you remember the chipmunk that you fed a wave in chan’s kitchen. “oh, brown hair, glasses?” 

“yes! his name is han jisung, he keeps begging me to set you guys up,” chan shakes his head, still wearing a smile, “he keeps calling you an angel sent from above. we don’t have girls in the apartment very often.” 

“chan, i’m confused,” your eyebrows are furrowed now, you turn your body to face him as your fingers reach your temple. “i took you home after our date, and now you’re trying to set me up with your roommate who i only caught a glimpse of in your kitchen?” 

he pulls his lips together, hand reaching up to scratch the back of his head, “i didn’t know how to tell you because it sounds mean no matter how you put it, but i think we’d probably be better as friends.” 

you blinked at him, jaw slack, you thought he was going to say the exact opposite of the words that left his lips. you didn’t know if it was worse or better that you were going to say the same thing to him, but for him to beat you to it? sickening. 

“i’m sorry! please don’t hate me,” he pouted, grabbing your hands with his own, “i had a really good time, i’ve been dying to go to that distillery for ages, i’m eternally grateful you went with me.”

“i just… don’t think there’s anything between us romantically,” his cheeks were bright pink, a weak smile on his face, “but there could be between you and jisung.” 

“i– i don’t know what to say,” you felt dumbfounded, you were sure your face reflected that. “i’m flattered your roommate is interested in me, but i don’t think i’m interested in him. at least not right now.” 

chan lets go of your hands, his pout turning into a frown. “that’s okay, let me know if you change your mind. he goes to school here, he’s getting his bachelors in music composition. he’s really funny, super cool and ridiculously smart.” 

you nod, “i’ll let you know.” bringing your attention back to your laptop, all you could think was how much you wanted to tell mingyu— he’d find the entire situation hilarious. you could see him throwing his head back in laughter, teasing you for taking care of the little drunk blondie for an entire night just for him to break things off with you. 

the more you thought about it, the more that very thing began to irritate you. you barely heard a word out of your professor’s mouth, the lecture falling on deaf ears, only contemplating why chan broke it off with you first. you were pleasant, caring, let him do what he wanted without complaint, even cleaned up after him— and he had the nerve to say you weren’t compatible? irritating. 

as class ended, you packed your things up in record speed, hustling out of your lecture hall, but chan was quick to follow you. you didn’t necessarily hide the shift in your behavior, head in your laptop all class, not even looking at him once, even when he asked you questions you gave him curt answers and zero eye contact. 

“wait! what the hell,” he called after you just as you made it outside, wind whipping at your skin, blowing your hair in every direction. 

you stopped in your tracks, snapping your neck to look at him, “what else can i do for you?” 

chan looked confused now, his eyebrows knitted in such an adorable way it irritated you more. he sounded surprised as he asked, “are you mad at me?” 

“can i ask you something?” you didn’t wait for his answer, “why did you say there’s nothing between us romantically? you basically said we’re incompatible.” 

his lips flattened, he sighed as he looked down before saying. “i did not say we’re incompatible, i said we’d be better off as friends.” 

“i agree with you, but i want to know why you think that,” you stood your ground, arms crossed, probably with steam shooting from your ears into the chilly october air, your frustration was clear.

“fine. i was drunk, not blind,” he threw his hands up, “you didn’t seem to be into the date we were on at all, your head was somewhere else the second you got into my car. which was fine, i figured maybe you were having an off day, but then we got to the class and all you looked at was mingyu. i knew then that you just weren’t into me.” 

you purse your lips, cheeks flushing, it was embarrassing how quickly your anger turned to regret. you had no reason to be irritated in the first place, chan made his decision based on how you made him feel. 

“i’m not angry at you,” he shrugged, “and it didn’t really hurt my feelings. i think you’re cool and i want to be friends with you, going to the distillery was still a really fun experience.” 

“chan, i’m so sorry,” your palms hit your forehead, voice going weak. “that wasn’t fair to you at all.” 

“don’t get all sad, i said it didn’t hurt my feelings,” when you looked back at him he was smiling, hands in the pocket of his hoodie. “thanks for apologizing, if you wanna make it up to me you can go out with my roommate so he’ll leave me alone.” 

a smile broke out across your face, sniffing from how unusually cold it was. “i’ll think about it— just to make it up to you, though.” 

he rolled his eyes playfully, “i think you’ll really like him.”

you ran a hand through your hair, “i do need a boyfriend before thanksgiving.” 

your hand clasped over your mouth— you couldn’t believe you let that slip. chan looked at you like he was lost, “what do you mean by that?”

you sighed, defeated, thinking maybe chan was a good person to talk to about it. he wasn’t in your circle, wasn’t biased to anyone— plus he was no longer a contender. “let’s go get coffee or something, i’ll explain it all to you.” 

you and chan sat at the coffee shop on campus for an hour, you got everything off your chest. from how your cousins treated you, your sister, your entire family at this point to how you quickly came up with a lie to get them off your back. you told him about hyunjin, about mingyu, you told him everything and he listened to every word. 

you talked not only about the other men, but about your date with him, too. you talked everything out together down to the last detail, chan’s humor made you feel better, as if you had no worries in the world and your date with him was just two friends hanging out in the first place. you felt relieved after talking it out with him, he understood you, your feelings, even your thought process, giving you advice as much as he eased your worries. 

you didn’t think it was possible for you two to be friends after going on an entire date together, you didn’t think it’d be possible for anyone to. but with the person chan is kind, understanding, empathetic, he was more human than most people you’ve encountered at your university— you were relieved to know you could stay friends and keep him in your life. your boys would like him. 

then mingyu called, disrupting your coffee friend date entirely. chan was wiggling his eyebrows at you and you rolled your eyes, picking up your phone. 

“hey sweetheart, how was class?” 

all of your worries seemed to flee. 

mingyu texted you his address, telling you to come over around six thirty. being after four already and he lived thirty minutes away, you panicked. you rushed home, nearly hitting four other cars on the way there, not even stopping to say hello to your family before you were taking an everything shower. 

knowing everyone was home, you were grateful no one stopped in your room to talk to you as you got ready, your lack of time to properly prepare had begun stressing you out before you walked in your front door. by six you were actually ready, a shock to everyone who would hear that sentence, and proud of yourself. 

your plan was to sneakily leave through the front door, quiet as a mouse. you didn’t want to be asked any questions, divulge any answers, no one needed to know anything about your whereabouts for the night. 

your twin and your friends sat in your living room, vivi on the farthest corner of the couch, all eyes pointed at the flat screen tv hung on the wall. you stayed close to the wall as you snuck around the corner, tip toeing through the entryway to the front door. as your fingers reached for the knob, you peered over your shoulder, only catching yunho’s eye before you slipped through the heavy slab of wood. you didn’t give him time to make a sound before you were gone. 

getting to mingyu’s house was hard, you hated driving in the city, but getting up to his place was even harder. he told you to tell the man working the desk your name and he’d guide you the rest of the way, but his instructions seemed too plain to get there, considering there were only two steps: get in the elevator and press ‘P’.

there was a special elevator off to the side of the lobby in his building, which seemed more like a hotel than anything, and the man working the desk had to swipe a card to let you in. you did as you were told, confused as ever, pressing P as soon as he swiped the card– the button all the way at the top of the operating panel. only as you moved upward in the elevator and you passed the top floor did everything begin to click– mingyu lived in the penthouse of his building. the penthouse. 

your nerves seemed to wake up as the elevator opened up, met with a full living room, all cream furniture and floor to ceiling windows. you were floored, not wanting to take a step forward until you sniffed. like a dog, your nose pulled you forward, the smell of whatever the hell mingyu was cooking completely entracing you. 

stood at the stove, his back to you, your nerves were so overwhelming you nearly turned around and got back in the elevator. old jazz music played through his apartment, the smell of dinner and mingyu flooding your nose as you looked around for a moment before greeting him — you needed to process. 

white marble countertops accented by a deep, ebony wood in the kitchen, cream tiled floors, a navy sectional in the living room accompanied by a matching ebony coffee table, a massive flat screen tv on the wall– you should’ve seen this coming. you knew he was wealthy, but this was more than anything you could’ve imagined. the place was so clean you were sure you could slide your finger across every surface and there would be no residue, you were willing to bet that not even a speck of dust sat on the ceiling fan that hung at least twelve feet above you. you were in heaven. 

“you scared the shit out of me,” mingyu called from the kitchen, taking his apron off as he rounded the corner of his kitchen island, “quiet girl.”

he snapped you out of your shock, ease consuming your now cold-sweating body, looking at him with a smile as you slipped off your boots by the elevator door, sock-covered feet padding along the cold tiled floor all the way to where he stood. he wrapped you in a hug, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before he said, “i’m happy you came.”

“me too, whatever you’re cooking smells amazing,” you say as you look up to him, arms still hooked around his waist, it was concerning how quickly his embrace could snap you out of a spiral. “this place is fucking incredible.”

“thank you,” his smile is infectious, so wide you couldn’t possibly wipe your own off your face. “hope you like steak– cooked with dairy free butter.”

“you remembered!” you exclaim, following him around the corner of the island, eyes looking from dish to dish laid out across the island. he really went all out, vegetables and sides and even a small charcuterie plate full of cheese and fruits. you looked up to him again, “all these, too?”

“come on,” he shook his head as if you were silly for even asking that question, “wouldn’t want to upset the tiny tummy.” 

your face flushed, you couldn’t believe your eyes, ears or nose– you told him once in quick conversation on sunday that you were lactose intolerant and he remembered, he made an entire dinner based around your restriction. you looked up at him with stars in your eyes, and he knew it, too. 

“i can’t believe this,” you shook your head as you stared the charcuterie board down, you were starving and the plate was calling your name. 

“sit and eat, we still have some time before dinner’s ready,” he slipped the apron back on over his head and you stifled a giggle at the sight before planting yourself down on a barstool on the opposite side of the island, picking at the plate of fruits and cheese. you took it easy on the cheese, just in case —you couldn’t help it— the fruit was more than enough for an appetizer. 

your head nodded along to the jazz music as he stood at the stove, cooking the steak, bouncing over to you every few minutes to steal a grape or plant a kiss on your forehead. it was oddly domestic, as if you’d been here before, meant to be in this exact situation. he asked you about class, you asked about his meetings, you went back and forth until he was plating everything, ignoring you every time you asked if he needed help— he answered the first time, he was done with the question after that.

“where do you wanna eat?” he looked to you across the island after everything was plated like you were at a michelin grade restaurant, maybe he was a chef in a past life. “we can eat at the table, on the couch, i can come sit next to you and we can eat here.”

you shrugged, “wherever you want to eat, chef, your house your rules.”

the corner of his mouth lifted, “i’ll come over there, don’t want the princess to have to move her seat.”

you looked up at the nickname, in your twenty two years of life only one other person had nicknamed you princess. you hadn’t heard the nickname since you were twelve, it was more comforting than you expected it to be. 

mingyu noticed your look, tilting his head to ask, “what?” as he moved your plates to your side of the island. 

“i just like that nickname,” you smiled before taking a sip of your drink, the surfside mingyu so graciously stopped at the liquor store to get– you make one joke about enjoying seltzers… 

“thank you for cooking,” you said as he clicked his glass of whiskey with your can, and he nodded in appreciation. 

“let’s eat!” he said with a wide smile, excitement exuding from his skin, you could see he loved cooking, especially for someone else. it made you curious about his other hobbies, what else he enjoyed besides cooking and seventeen, what made him as enamored as you were just by him. you wanted to know everything– every detail he wanted to share you’d embrace with open arms. 

the food didn’t just smell amazing, it tasted incredible— super awesome and amazing cooking skills, indeed. he seemed like the type to be talented at everything, the jack of all trades, you could just tell. he was perfect boyfriend material, he checked off everything on your more shallow list– with time, you were sure he’d check off everything. you could feel it.

you spoke as you ate, from how he learned to cook to how he expanded his skill, the other things he had interest in– he loves dogs, he likes to clean, fix anything that’s broken (he likes to figure it out himself), interior design, he likes to drive and insists he doesn’t have a driver, he likes fashion, you learned he speaks fast when he really enjoys something. you were precise with your questions, asking him specific details about things he enjoys just so he’d speak more, you loved every minute of it. you learned so much in such a short time, you became so engrossed in the conversation he ended up getting a lot out of you, too. 

it’d been at least forty five minutes since you finished your meal and you were still talking — you bickered about doing the dishes and you finally won, insisting that he at least let you load the dishwasher while he washed them. he agreed with a sour look on his face and your smile was nothing short of victorious, and then your conversation picked up right where it left off. you talked about yourself, how you like to clean, keep a tidy space, your family, your friends, your plans for the future, the upcoming holidays– he almost got it out of you, but you kept your composure, not repeating what happened with chan. 

by the time you made it to the couch, you were going back and forth about how you grew up, talking about your families. you were facing one another, you were sitting the same way– one leg on the couch, the other touching the floor, leaning your side against the back cushion. his couch was as comfortable as it was beautiful, navy velvet so soft to your skin you sunk right in. 

“okay, what’s something you’ve done since you were young, and you still do to this day?” he kept his eyes on you, soft and focused, making sure you knew he was listening. 

you squinted as you thought about it, racking your brain for any traditions you’ve kept with your family. “we have a holiday tradition,” you smile, cheeks flushing, not one hundred percent sure if you really wanted to talk about it– but it was the only thing you could think of, and at this point you trust mingyu enough to speak on it. “we’ve done this since i was twelve— our entire family comes over to my house, my mom and stepdad host, we have over seventy people in the house for thanksgiving and christmas. it’s my mom’s family, my dad’s family, my step dad's family, plus yeosang, san and yunho’s families, too.”

“how the hell do you cook for that many people?” mingyu stares at you in shock, eyes wide and eyebrows high. 

“cook? please, we cater,” you shake your head, “we all stand in the kitchen before we eat and we talk to my dad. whoever wants to, we just talk out in the open as if he was in the room, or telling stories about him. sometimes my dads’ friends stop by too, they did that more often when we were younger, but they’ll stop by and talk to him or even about him, too. my mom will always tell the same stories of how they met, how me and my siblings came to be, the days we were born, how they named us. it’s important to us around the holidays.”

you watched mingyu’s expression soften, but he also looked as if he was thinking, processing. he finally spoke, a hush to his words, a delicacy you were expecting, “i had no idea, i’m so sorry.” his hand felt warm as he laid it on your knee, “i love that tradition, i don’t doubt he’s there with you every time you talk to him.”

you gave him a smile, “thank you, it’s my favorite part about the holidays. after that i usually get berated for the rest of the day, if that counts as a tradition, too.”

he gives you a confused look through a laugh, “i don’t think that counts. we have a somewhat similar tradition– every year at christmas we make a toast to the ancestors who have owned seventeen, paying respect to the men who have made our lives what they are. we just added my grandpa to the list a few years ago, it’s special.”

“i love that so much,” you smile, “showing gratitude to the men who have supported your family all these years. that’s incredible.”

“it’s nothing like paying tribute to a lost parent,” his smile is a sad one, “but the holidays are such an emotional time, it’s important to keep their spirit alive. can i ask about your dad?”

“absolutely,” you nod your head, smiling at him, you were surprising yourself now. you didn’t talk about your dad with anyone other than your family and your boys. 

“when did he pass? how?” he asked, leaning his arm against the top of the couch, elbow bending to hold up his head. 

“my twin and i were twelve, my sister was six. ten years ago,” you nodded, thinking about the dinner you had with your family earlier this year, marking the decade of his passing. “fatal car accident, drunk driver hit him on his way home from work– he was a lawyer.”

he groaned, “i’m so fucking sorry, that must’ve been awful for your family to go through.”

“thank you, still is sometimes,” you shot him a tight lipped smile, “he was an incredible man, i’ve forced myself to burn every moment spent with him to memory, i think about him everyday.”

“what’s your step dad like?” he changed the subject and your body went rigid– you hated talking about matt. “when did your mom remarry?”

“eight years ago, i was fourteen. too soon, if you ask me,” you shift your legs, fighting your discomfort, “matt is… something. my siblings love him, vivi was too young to remember much about our dad, so matt was quick to fill the spot. same with ace, he gets along with matt, ace needed a father figure after he passed and matt fit right in with them. happy family,” your smile doesn't reach your eyes. 

mingyu points his eyes at you, “but you…?”

“i don’t like him, point blank period,” you release a nervous chuckle, “i despised him when i was thirteen, when they started dating, i didn’t go to their wedding. i hung out with my grandma, my dad’s mom, all day instead. me and matt have never seen eye to eye on anything.”

“why? is it just because he’s… not your dad?” mingyu crosses his arms, not in a judgemental way, but showing he truly just wanted to understand. “you don’t have to answer that.”

“you’re fine, it’s fine,” you shook your head, “he just isn’t the same to me as he is to ace and vivi, and that’s probably partially on me because i never let him in. i hated him when i was younger because he isn’t my dad and he never will be, i thought my siblings looked at him like a replacement and it made me sick.” 

“i know he has good qualities but we never formed a bond, i never gave him the opportunity to. he tries to parent me even now and it’s almost funny at this point, i can’t bring myself to accept him. he will never be a parent to me, he’s just a guy who lives in my house.”

mingyu’s nod is slow as he processes, arms uncrossing to put one up on the back of the couch again, “what do your siblings think about him?”

“vivi fully thinks i have issues, ace sees my side a lot, he understands me. tries to be a buffer between matt and i, defends me to matt but defends matt to me,” you couldn’t believe that you were letting all of this information out so easily, but it made you feel better knowing mingyu was the one receiving it. 

“of course he does, you got the twin thing going on,” mingyu nods, “i’m happy ace is at least on your side. i’d like to meet him, eventually.”

“meet ace?!” you ask, eyebrows raised, then you thought about it for a second — ace would probably like mingyu, and mingyu would probably like ace. “actually, he’d probably like you.”

“probably?” mingyu puts a hand over his heart, eyebrows furrowed and jaw agape like that hurt his feelings, “everybody likes me.”

you giggle, “ace wouldn’t be the hard one to crack, matt would probably like you, too. my friends would be the ones giving you a hard time.”

“ah, yeosang, san and yunho, right? the three musketeers?” he smiles, “most guys would be terrified if they had a beautiful girl over and her three best friends were guys.” 

you laugh, “not for nothing, you and yunho are probably matched in height– he’s the scary one. the other two are just stupid, but they’re my people.”

“he might be as tall as me, but is he as big as me?” mingyu wiggles his eyebrows, making you laugh again. “i want to know your people.”

“yunho is just as tall, but san might be as big as you,” you lift your brows with a tilt of your head, “but you guys could go to the gym together, bunch of doritos.”

that made mingyu’s head fall back in laughter, you joining him before he reaches over to grab your hand, his face falling serious. “thank you for sharing all of that with me, i know it took a lot to be able to say all of that.”

you nod, “for some reason, i trust you. i know we just met,” you shrugged, cheeks flushing, “i don’t know, there’s something about you, i guess. i really like you.” 

a smile spreads across mingyu’s face and you feel him tug at your wrist, pulling you forward. you were already inches apart before, but now you’re nearly in his lap, faces mere centimeters apart. your ears burn as he looks into your eyes, searching for something you couldn’t place, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. 

“i really like you, too,” he smiles for a split second before he leans forward, attaching his lips to yours, and in that moment you feel every puzzle piece in your brain fit into place. every single feeling of nostalgia, feeling so comfortable with him so fast, sharing so much about yourself when you barely knew the guy– this was why. 

everything about kissing kim mingyu felt right, as if you were searching for this your entire life, as if all of those years spent alone and uninterested in dating were actually spent waiting for him. every decision you’ve made, every person you’ve met, the dates you went on before this– it was all to lead you to him. sparks, fireworks, whatever people say about meeting the one, you could add to the conversation now because you understood. 

he deepens the kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth and you moan. you couldn’t help it, couldn’t fight it, every single nerve ending in your body was on fire. his hand slides to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, your hands flying up to his shoulders, wanting to feel every inch of him. 

“been waiting to do this,” he whispered between kisses, his breath hot on your mouth, eyes closed. 

you smile into the kiss, his words amplifying your hunger, your hands trailing from his shoulders to his chest, laying your palms flat against his muscled chest. you broke the kiss again, “you’re so fucking sexy.”

“i should be saying that to you,” his hands move from your neck down your back until they scoop under your ass, pulling you onto his lap with ease as he shifts to sit forward, your bodies fully changing position. you gasp at the movement, wrapping your thighs around him, hands clinging to his shoulders again. the thought that he could flip you around with as much ease as he just showed you had your brain doing cartwheels, you could tell just by looking at mingyu that he was strong, but him proving it was a completely different story. 

he caught your lips with his own again, hands still under your ass until they moved to your hips, digging his thumbs into your skin. you moaned into his mouth at the feeling and he let out a deep groan, rocking your hips forward. when you felt him beneath you, you couldn’t help but gasp, another sound of pleasure escaping your lips and he smiled into you, whispering, “want you so bad, princess.”

your head falls forward, eyes screwed shut, the stimulation too good to be over layers of clothes. you blamed his actions on sunday, you’ve been thinking about him like this every night before bed with a hand between your thighs, now it’s actually happening. you supposed this is what it was like to be with someone you connected with on a deeper level, your body was responding quicker than your head was, getting lost in a fog, hands trailing to his neck, his jaw– you needed to feel all of him. 

he let out a grunt, “take it easy,” he stilled your hips with massive palms, you hadn’t even realized you began moving on your own. “tonight’s about you.”

“want you so bad, gyu,” you were breathless, you sounded like an animal– voice shaky, nearly whining because he stopped you. 

he chuckled, voice octaves deeper than it had been, “you’ll have me, but not yet.”

you sat back on his thighs, baffled, eyebrows knitted in clear irritation, “what do you mean, not yet?” 

his smile only grew, “i’ll take care of you, i promise,” he spread his thighs which in turn spread yours, his hands trailing up your legs from your knee to your hips. “so spoiled already, what am i gonna do with you?”

you watched his hands travel across your body, back involuntarily arching at his touch, mewls slipping from your lips. you were losing it– fuck waiting, you needed him, you reached for his zipper. 

he grabs your wrist before you reach it, making you whine. “did you not hear me when i said tonight’s about you? is your pretty head already too fuzzy for you to think correctly?” 

you pouted, looking up to him, trying to mimic chan’s doe eyes as best you could. “please,” you begged, “want to touch you so bad.” 

“begging will get you nowhere,” he leaned back on the couch, a sense of authority filling the space between you, curbing your behavior entirely. “you’ll take what i give you, right?” 

you nod, falling into submission with ease, and the smile that grows on his face is despicable. he praises, “good girl, thought so,” before he tugs your wrists forward, and your lips are on his again. 

they’re nastier this time, all tongue and teeth, and his hands are everywhere. on your back, on your hips, on your chest, the noises you let out would be embarrassing if you could think about it for longer than half a second. when his thumbs travel up your inner thighs you stiffen, your back arching, moaning into his mouth and he laughs, his chest rising into yours. 

“relax for me, princess,” he says into your mouth and you obey without even thinking about it, body sinking into his. he slips his right palm between your legs to cup your center over your pants and you grind yourself into him involuntarily, releasing a gasp as you finally get stimulation where you needed it most. 

your head falls forward again, breaths growing heavy at the contact. he switches to two fingers instead, adding pressure along your clothed slit, pausing at your clit to rub small circles. you moans are pathetic, grinding into his hand, begging for more but you didn’t dare say it. 

“yeah, there you go,” he encourages, voice low and directly in your ear as you grind against his fingers, he doesn’t stop talking, “gonna cum on my fingers when i haven’t even taken your pants off? my girl is so desperate.” 

your moans raise in pitch at his words, the slight degradation only getting you there faster, you could taste your orgasm. you didn’t know you were into that kind of thing— you never had any experience in it, you and mingyu certainly didn’t talk about it beforehand. 

“go ahead, princess, cum for me,” he encourages and you lose it, unraveling on his hand, his words tipping you over the edge. your moans are strangled in your throat as you finally release, breath stilling as your head sinks entirely onto his shoulder, his hand still riding you through it. when you back off his touch he halts his movement, bringing a hand up to your hair, fingers lightly scratching your scalp as he praises you. “so good for me, baby, did so good.”

you whimper in response, body completely spent on his lap, limp hands resting on his chest as his thumbs sneak down to hook in your waistband. you could hear his grin in his words, “i hope you don’t think i’m done with you yet, wanna see your pretty face cum on my fingers.” 

you lifted your hips off of him and he slips the fabric down your legs one after the other, your brain completely fogged over, too fucked to do anything else but comply. you’d do whatever he said in this state, as long as he kept talking to you. 

when you sat back down on his lap his thighs were spread again, your legs sat wide over his own, pussy on display for eyes that couldn’t see it. he bared his teeth in a smile, head laying atop the back of the couch, looking at you through lowered eyes. it should’ve been mortifying, being so exposed to him when he hadn't even taken his shirt off, but the feeling didn’t come to mind when he looked at you as if he'd eat you alive. 

“so good,” he praised, the smile not once leaving his face, “you wanna cum again, don’t you baby?”

you nod, whimpering, hips bucking into nothing beneath them. mingyu was so hard, you could see the ridiculous tent in his pants, you were nearly drooling at the sight. you want to see him, touch him, taste the full length of him— it was cruel how he was keeping himself from you, but you still didn’t tell him, maybe he’d praise you more if you didn’t. 

“say it,” his hands were on your bare hips, the skin on skin contact had you heaving. you couldn’t form any words other than make me cum, begging three times before his hands moved.  

his fingers moved to your core and his lips were on yours again as his fingers slipped inside, index and middle, immediately curling inside of you. you plunged forward, your entire abdomen folding, the slight overstimulation combined with how thick his fingers felt inside of you was devastating. you were louder now, moans turning to cries, hips driving forward to match the thrusts of his fingers. 

“fuck, mingyu,” words returned to you, a moment of clarity in the midst of the fog, “feels so fucking good, please don’t stop.” 

“there she is,” his lips attached to your jaw, kissing down your neck as his fingers created a rhythm, “came back to me, hmm?” 

“yes,” you moaned out, words breathy and light, “want you to watch me when i cum.” 

he groaned, head falling back onto the couch again, his other hand reaching forward to rub your clit again. you cried out curses, watching mingyu as he watched you. you whimpered, “wanna feel you so bad, want you to fuck me gyu.” 

his eyebrows furrowed, jaw going slack, quickening his pace on your clit. you could feel another orgasm forming in the pit of your stomach, eyes falling shut, head lolling forward before you snapped it back upright. he wanted to see you, you’d let him have whatever he wanted. 

“so close,” you cried, he was so fucking good at this— not once did the rhythm he created falter as you thrashed against him, following your hips with experienced fingers. “gonna cum, gyu.” 

“cum all over my fingers baby, give it to me,” he leaned forward, catching your lips with his own in a kiss before he growled, “cum for me.” 

the order had you seeing stars behind your eyelids, your body obeying without you even processing it, shaking in his arms as you got lost in your orgasm like a fucking riptide. this one was far more powerful than the last, it took you longer to ride out the full length of it, the aftershocks hitting you in tremors. 

“good girl, that was so hot,” his voice was strained as he praised you, clearly trying to hold himself back, but you couldn’t place why he wouldn’t do anything about it. 

“want you inside,” you said into his neck, head fallen onto his shoulder by now, small aftershocks of your orgasm still coursing through you. his hands rubbed your back, soothing touches to bring you back, a huff of amusement leaving his lips. 

“you’re insatiable,” he teased, hand dropping to leave a small tap on your bare ass. “you’ll have me another night.��� 

“why?” you whined, body curling into his further, arms laying limp at your sides, “you don’t wanna fuck me?” 

“don’t do that,” he planted a kiss to the side of your head as his hands continued, leaving calming strokes on your back, “be patient.” 

you sit up slowly, “i don’t want to be patient.” 

“then call up the blondie,” he shot you an amused smile, “i’m sure he’ll be glad to fix your issue.” 

“mingyu,” you huffed, “that’s not funny. i’ll be patient.” 

“never heard a woman complain after coming twice,” he shook his head, watching with careful eyes as you stood off his lap, reaching for your pants. 

“i am so sorry that i want your cock so bad i’m begging for it,” you teased back as you slipped them up your legs, a playful smile on your lips. 

he lifted a brow, “touché.”

you stayed at mingyu’s place for hours after, half listening to whatever movie he put on his tv while you fought to not get lost in conversation. it was too hard when he put on a romcom, the first time he nitpicked a detail the fight was over, entering a debate about how stupid it was for the main girl to be interested in the man who was clearly an asshole. mingyu thought it was stupid, you stood up for the girl– you’ve been there too many times to not stick up for her. at least half the movie was spent talking about the movie.

you spent the other half of it lazily kissing, hands traveling across each other’s skin, he let you maneuver your hands under his shirt, feeling his chiseled abdomen, his chest, his back— you were right, every part of him was strong. his fingers had slipped under your pants again, the movie was over for far too long before the two of you had come up for air. 

but he still didn’t take it further— didn’t let you touch him below his belt. you couldn’t understand why, until he finally gave you a reason, “i just want to wait, i know it’s old fashioned. don’t make fun of me.” 

your body went hot, you were now convinced that anything he did could turn you on. “until when?! marriage?!” you joked, and he only responded by pressing his lips to yours again, effectively shutting you up.

you didn’t want to leave– you knew mingyu had meetings early the next morning, you had classes, but his couch was so comfortable, the blanket he threw over you was so cozy, you couldn’t fathom going outside in the cold air or sitting in your car that would take way too long to warm up. you felt like you were in your own bubble, just you and mingyu, no one knew where you were or what you were doing. you didn’t want it to end. 

you checked your phone after hours, your phone screen flooded with notifications. you scrolled through as mingyu traced patterns along your stomach over the blanket, his head lying just below it, both of you sideways on his massive sectional. 

8:28 pm

yeo: tiny are u alive

8:51 pm

yeo: tiny i am getting nervous yeo: pls answer

it being past ten now, you were scared to continue scrolling. 

9:23 pm

sannie: yeo is tweaking sannie: he is telling ace lol

you sighed, eyes closing, your bubble was burst. 

9:31 pm

yeo: ace did not gaf yeo: bro said ur prolly on another date yeo: good luck have fun get some

you swiped out of your groupchat, seeing an unopened text in your thread with yunho. 

10:01 pm

yunho: worried about u yunho: hope this one’s treating you better

you smiled, fingers typing away– yunho was the only one who knew who mingyu was. 

10:23 pm

you: dont be worried im fine you: hes perfect he's the one you: thanksgiving secured

the bubble appeared in seconds, then it went away.

— yunho liked your messages. 

8fd masterlist | main masterlist

tags :p @chimivx @emmxxsworld @alisonyus @livixcore @skzswife @dawn-iscozy

[love-belle]

looked for stars and i found a supernova !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which it takes a random song drop and a feature from a university student for their relationship to come to light.

or

for when it became true, opposites do attract. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // charles leclerc x fem!sargeant!reader

warnings - language

author's note - i am SO sorry i have no explanation for not posting except for the fact that i am now unemployed (i finished hs and don't start college till like august) and i just do Nothing the entire day. i love u all thank u for sticking around <3

≡.;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, lilymhe and 729,816 others

yourusername boys are SO stupid and it's so endearing and frustrating like u r such a DUMBASS pls let me kiss u on the lips (i did ❤️)

8,628 comments

username hahahah!!! funny joke babe!!! kids and i and our goat miss u ❤️

username and like just that my bisexual ass cried tears (i never had a chance)

-> username she's for the girlies every man back OFFFFFF

username going insane over this

username i know logan is in shambles rn like that brother is distraught

-> yourusername he hasn't stopped calling me i had to block his number

-> logansargeant UNBLOCK my number i am your BLOOD

-> yourusername fuck off i will call mom

-> logansargeant have you ever known sanity in your life

-> yourusername have you ever felt loved

-> yourusername sorry can u please tell mom to stop yelling at me it's scary ok

-> username she did NOT need to do him like that

-> username oh that was FOUL

username she's so pretty i simply cannot believe a man can rizz her up

username do we ignore y/n violating her brother like that orrrrr

-> username u are an only child it seems

-> logansargeant it's just that she's mean

-> yourusername go and drown in a pond since u wanna act like a silly goose

username why is charles in the likes he don't even follow her

-> username i have the most funniest and silliest theory and im afraid saying it out loud will send logan into early retirement

alex_albon evil laugh

-> yourusername i pay u ENOUGH. any more and i will have to involve my lawyer WHAT DO U WANT

-> alex_albon ferrari has exceptional pasta

-> yourusername ahahahhajaha what's that got to do with me u little clusterfuck of a twink

-> alex_albon oh! absolutely nothing!

-> username i am screaming what the fuck

-> username "little clusterfuck of a twink" OH MY GOD

username crazy how everything she says is so real idk if that's the fan in me or i am just way too fucking down bad for her

*liked by charles_leclerc*

username love love LOVE see this rep bc my man is such an idiot but it's ok cus he's my princess

-> yourusername YOU GET IT !!!!! he's my princess <3

logansargeant what are you doing

-> yourusername tryna slut him out n then build a lego set w him

-> logansargeant i always knew you would be the one to bring generational shame to our family what is this behaviour

logansargeant what happened to "if i ever talk to a man again i want you to be disappointed in me" ?

-> yourusername u were disappointed in me nonetheless fym

-> logansargeant i

-> maxverstappen1 i can tell we would be great friends yourusername

-> logansargeant no way

logansargeant what happened to BIOLOGY you were supposed to be STUDYING

-> yourusername i did study

-> yourusername his anatomy

-> alex_albon logan just deleted this app i hope you're happy

-> username Y/N PLEASE HESITATE

-> username CRYINF SHE'S SO UNHINGED

username the way i can feel logan's mortification through the screen 😭😭

username when will it be me

username love to see women in stem (seducing the enigmatic men) idk im proud of her i know she was crying abt not finding the love she read bout

-> yourusername this might be my favourite comment ever i adore u

username prophecy be looking a bit too permanent 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 who's gonna change it 🤣🤣🤣 i am on my KNEES 🤣🤣🤣🤣

username everyday i learn something new about y/n and everyday i praise the lord that i can exist at the same time as her

*liked by charles_leclerc*

≡.;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by yourusername, lewishamilton, maxverstappen1 and 2,629,916 others

charles_leclerc you're in her dms, i wrote a song for her in under a day when we weren't even dating. we are not the same.

12,628 comments

username CRYING WHAT THE FUCK

username oh my god is this real

username CRYING THE SONG IS TOO GOOD

username HIS VLOCE JIS VOICE HIS VLICE HIS VOICE

username going crazy rn what the fuck

username HELLO?????? WHAT IS THIS

username need me a man like this thank u

username too much unpack he has a GIRLFRIEND and it's Y/N

-> username HE PULLS??? HE PULLED HER???

username this is life altering

username shaking from excitement i cannot WAIT for logan to download instagram again and be Surprised

landonorris disgusting

-> charles_leclerc forgive me for not wanting to hide my love ☹️

-> username NAH WHO GOT HIM LIKE THIS

username "thinking bout her eyes every hour she's my wildflower" OH HE'S IN LOVEEEE LOVE

username his voice oh my god

-> username tears dripping down my thighs

-> username OHMYGOD

maxverstappen1 "we are not the same" thank god

-> charles_leclerc bubonic plague 🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠

-> username nurse he's out 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

-> username nah who got him being funny

-> username DID PEOPLE SERIOUSLY NOT LISTEN TO THE SONG

-> username NO WAY THAT'S Y/N AT THE END

-> username "okaaaaaaay" CRYINF I LOVE THEM

username my life has been divided into before this song and after this song and im so grateful for that

username i think the most important thing here is who out of all his friends owns a toyota in which the heat don't work

username crying bc wdym charles wrote a song for his gf when they weren't even dating

username in love with y/n's voice at the end WHY IS THAT SO CUTE

-> username screaming i need this song injected in my veins

yourusername craaaaaaaazy how u never told me that ⁉️

-> charles_leclerc details details

yourusername cool song

-> charles_leclerc thank you i wrote it for my girlfriend

yourusername AHSHDHDJJSJSJAJS IN LOVE THIS WAS SO GOOD UR VOICE IS INSANE I LOVE IT SO MUCH

-> charles_leclerc THANK YOU !! ❤️

-> username they make me SICK

-> username calm bf 🤝 hyperactive gf

username the most important question is did logan re download this app

-> yourusername he did but then he saw this post, heard the song and deleted it again

-> yourusername he's just bitter i am bsfs with max before him

-> logansargeant disowned

-> yourusername my grad pic on the mantle BEGS to differ !!!!!! u are on the piano u have no room to talk

-> logansargeant i'm pushing you out of this year's christmas card

≡.;- ꒰ °twitter ꒱

≡.;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton, maxverstappen1 and 899,527 others

yourusername got him to say he would still love me if i was a worm n now we go on walks and i point at every worm and say sorry i can't be her

tagged charles_leclerc

12,628 comments

username NO WAY THIS JS REAL

username i just want a detailed description of how they met and who asked the other out ☝️😞

username my roman empire the fuck

username the way their personalities crash when will it be me

username THE CAPTION IM SCREAMING

username the way she will never let that man know peace and i am so EXCITED

username she's so unhinged i love her

username LET IT ONCE BE ME PLEASEEE

username blocked (im laying on the highway tonight)

username the way i know logan had to be sedated

-> username my man did nothing wrong why are they torturing him 😭

alex_albon we're down one driver at williams

-> yourusername is it a good time to tell u that i recently got my license

-> logansargeant YOU FAILED YOUR TEST 5 TIMES FUCK OFFFFFFF

-> yourusername big emotions

-> username im cryinf what do you mean shw faield the test 5 TIMES ????

username LMAOO THE LAST SLIDE 😭😭😭 I LOVE HER

username parents dare i say

username max is not happy i can tell

-> yourusername i received a very strongly worded message from him yesterday and the only thing i could make out was that he's a bitch for charles like. a BITCH.

-> maxverstappen1 blasphemy

-> logansargeant NO WAY you're buddies with MAX VERSTAPPEN before ME back OFFFFFF

-> yourusername nurse he is out again 🗣️🗣️🗣️

-> username what are they doing to my boy 😭

logansargeant y/n please. THINK.

-> yourusername i did

-> logansargeant AND ?

-> yourusername he's nice i will keep him

-> logansargeant NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

-> yourusername god forbid a girl wants to date a questionable man

-> charles_leclerc ?

username crazy how this is the most random couple ever and we're instantly like PARENTS !!!!

-> username i for once love them like the cultural clashes we're gonna get heh

charles_leclerc my love please

-> yourusername my pronouns are she not her because i'll never be her 🪱

-> charles_leclerc stop

charles_leclerc and can you please tell your brother to hesitate before speaking? he just offered me candy and a dollar to break up with you

-> yourusername FUCK U I AM WORTH WAY MORE THAN CANDY AND A DOLLAR

-> charles_leclerc that is not the issue here

charles_leclerc pretty girl

-> logansargeant keep your thoughts to yourself you hormonal vulgarian

-> yourusername TIME OUT FOR U let my bf live

-> charles_leclerc this is how my life is going to be from now on?

-> yourusername are u complaining (threatening)

-> username i KNOW logan is shaking behind the screen he just called charles leclerc a hormonal vulgarian

-> username sibling rage takes people places they wouldn't go with a gun

username this is hilarious

username logan's likes on twt are mind blowing like what do u MEAN u wish the plague on ur sister 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

-> yourusername u should see what his texts look like

-> yourusername "you need an excoeciscism for the demon in u it might an issue idk" followed by quora links

-> username siblings ❤️

≡.;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by yourusername, logansargeant, carlossainz55 and 2,729,915 others

charles_leclerc silently working on our own little crafts in the same room tonight, queen? ❤️

tagged yourusername

11,628 comments

username CRYINGGGGG I HATE HIS GUTS

username LET IT ONCE BE ME HOLY SHITTTTTT

username they're so parents it's insane

username he's so relatable bc i too would be obsessed with y/n

username he definitely has one of those t-shirts that say "i ❤️ my gf"

-> yourusername he has one in every colour with diff fonts :((((

-> username GOODBYE

username need me a man who will sit in my general vicinity while we work on our own silly little crafts together

-> username charles might've just set a standard idk NEVER SETTLE FOR LESS

username that text.............im violently ill

username the matching rings wow god really does have favourites

yourusername wait a sec i got 12000% error on my scale

-> landonorris how do you even manage to do that

-> yourusername if u think women don't belong in stem just say that

-> landonorris STOP IT MY PR TEAM IS HUNTING ME DOEN FOR SPROT TAKE JT BACK

-> charles_leclerc shame on you

-> landonorris WJAT DID I DO

-> username crying they're terrorizing people for fun 😭

-> username we deserve this

yourusername fighting demons (a degree that i chose to study) to be on my phone bc my BOYFRIEND posted

-> charles_leclerc don't give logan more reasons to send me vaguely veiled threats

-> yourusername he does WHAT

-> logansargeant sending him links on how people got away with murder is HARDLY a threat idk why you're like this

-> username no way they got him UNHINGED

-> username 😭😭😭😭😭 he's so

yourusername MY BABY LEO 💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞

-> charles_leclerc i am right there

-> yourusername so is leo 💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞

yourusername are u mitosis bc i never metaphase as cute as urs

-> charles_leclerc i am too dumb to understand this but you are the prettiest

-> yourusername king i am so in love with u

-> logansargeant i judt tfeew up

-> yourusername leave me ALONE

username i hope all the happy couples break up (why couldn't it be me in a relationship)

username SCREAMING HE'S SO DOWN BAD

[grandline-fics]

hiiii! I really love your account and I'm so glad you're still taking requests, I was thinking of like Law, zoro and ace having a nightmare of reader getting married to another guy and how would they feel after waking up in the morning seeing reader next to them sleeping <3 take your time and I hope you have a great day or night!

DESCRIPTION: They have a nightmare that you marry someone else

WARNINGS: little bit of brief angst/insecurity but it's kept light for the most part

CHARACTERS: Law, Zoro, | Ace, Shanks, Mihawk, Kid, Katakuri | Luffy, Usopp

WORDS: 1,156

A/N: I absolutely loved this request and I hope you like what I came up with for it. Sadly I could only think of scenarios for just Law and Zoro.

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST | PROMPT LIST

———————

LAW 

Law finds himself having this dream often, of finally marrying you. Every blissful, happy detail is unchanging and one he never tires of seeing. After years of torturous, painful nightmares plagued by his past trauma to dream of a future he wishes to make a reality is a welcome one. Tonight however his subconscious felt something was off. It wasn’t his usual dream he was so accustomed to. Normally at the beginning of the dream he’d be standing at the front of the aisle, watching your beautiful form coming into view and approach him with an excited, loving smile gracing your face. 

This time however he was standing at the back of the room. He heard your laugh and he turned, his eyes widening in shock to see you already in place and holding hands with who you were marrying, Eustass Kid. Suddenly all sound fell away and he felt like as much as he tried to run towards you, he stayed firmly in place and forced to watch your lips shape the wedding vows. Over and over he tried to activate his powers, to shambles you away and out of the touch of his rival but even that failed him. His distress grow as he watch you and Kid lean in, lips parting to seal the wedding with a kiss. 

With a shout, Law lurched forward, breathing heavily and mind swimming with the disturbing images still fresh in his mind as he woke and took his time in getting his bearings. With slow breaths, he pushed the heel of his hand against his already tightly shut eyes, desperate to force the images away. Beside him he felt a movement and with a sigh he looked to see you waking. Blearily you forced your eyes open enough to see Law was sitting up in the bed. Still half asleep, you couldn’t find the energy to pull yourself up so you reached out, taking his hand into yours and tugged him to lie down with you. 

Relief flooded Law as the realisation that it really was a nightmare and you’d always reach out for him was the reality. Eagerly he lay down against, you settling his head on your chest, a satisfied smile curling his lips when you threaded your fingers into his hair, making sleepy movements against his scalp to comfort him. “Bad dream again?” You asked, voice thick with sleep but you refused to let yourself fall back over until you were sure he was okay. 

“Different one, but still bad.” Law admitted, curling his arms around your body to hold you close. “Dreamt you married Kid of all people.” There was a moment of silence and your fingers stilled in his hair making him think you’d fallen asleep. Finally you let out a sigh and tapped his head, making him turn his head just enough to look at your disapproving stare breaking through the tiredness.

“Law I have better taste than that.” You scowled before resuming your comforting motions in his hair. “Now go back to sleep and dream it right this time.” Law let out a sleepy chuckle and did as he was told. Although now he as he began to drift to sleep, he began to put a plan in motion to give you the real wedding you deserved.

ZORO

This couldn’t be happening. This was his worst thing he’d ever have to witness in his life. No matter how many times he shook his head and rubbed his eyes, the sight was the same. He was standing amongst the rest of the crew who were cheering happily as they all watched you exchange rings and a sealing kiss with Sanji. The horror of what he had to witness didn’t end there. He was rooted in place having to watch your first dance with him, lovingly pressed up against him as you both swayed together, staring at each other with an expression he once got to share with you. 

The image melted away to the familiarity of the dining room and he watched you lean up to kiss Sanji as he placed an extravagant meal in front of you, your hand cupping his face in sickening adoration, the gleaming band of gold on your finger all but blinding him from the repulsive display. His mind was racing as he tried to think how this happened. Weren’t you two happy? Hadn’t you both sworn that you’d always love one another? Didn’t you love him anymore? When did he lose you? What had he done that made you pick the stupid cook? Had he died and gone to Hell? That must have been it. 

“Zoro!” He jolted awake to see you standing by his bed, hand on his chest as you shook him awake. Concern etched your face. You’d just finished your watch and came back to your shared room to see Zoro tossing and turning in his sleep, clearly trapped in a nightmare he couldn’t wake from. Slowly Zoro sat up in the bed as his good eye sharpened. When he realised it was you and thinking on what he’d just seen, he acted instantly. His hand took yours desperately and he lifted it, inspecting your fingers with as much attention as he would when he cared for his swords. “No ring.” He finally said with a relieved sigh, pulling you onto the bed to settle against him. 

Keeping your hand in his grip, he used the other to hold you close against him. You blinked in confusion and sat up to tilt your head at him with a growing frown. While you never wanted to force your relationship with Zoro to go to the next step, you would have been lying to say you hadn’t hoped that a proposal would some day come up. Worry began to gnaw at you. Were you more invested in this than he was? “You’re…relieved I don’t have a ring on my finger? The thought of marrying me is so bad to make you toss and turn in a nightmare?”

“What? No! I’d love that.” Zoro protested, cursing himself for his clumsy words. “It’s only a nightmare when you’re married to that shithead cook!” 

“Oh…” Your eyes widened and you bit your lip, fighting a smile to hide your excitement that Zoro wanted to marry you. Quickly to ease the tension of a very real conversation that you both were probably too tired to have you decided to clear your throat and joke with him. “So how nice was the ring?” You let out a squeal when Zoro suddenly tossed you onto the bed beside him and rolled onto his side with a long yawn breaking from his lips. You pouted playfully to see his eyes were closed again, already falling asleep with his freakish talent. 

“It looked like shit, the one I give you will be one hundred times better. Now get to sleep.”

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TAG LIST (If I've missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa

[squidwriting]

#1: Welcome To The Team

✁ — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

⇥ Synopsis After a terrible accident, you had lost your memory. After years of struggling with your identity, a lucky coincidence brought everything back - only to find your life in shambles, and your husband missing.

⇥ Pairing Hwang In-ho x fem!reader

⇥ Warnings Spoilers for Season 1 & 2, angst, violence, graphic descriptions of injuries & death

⇥ A/N: Changed In-ho's backstory (obviously lul) so no spoilers there. :3 Hope you enjoy! 💕

⇥ Masterlist | [#2]

✁ — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

"Come again..?"

Your voice was barely above a whisper. Jun-ho's story was as grotesque as it was unbelievable. There was no proof, no way to know if he was actually telling the truth. On the other hand, Jun-ho has never lied to you. He had been there ever since you woke up from your coma.

"What is it your not telling me?" you asked quietly, searching his face with your eyes. You had known him ever since he was a little boy. You knew when he was lying - or hiding something.

"Hyung didn't just participate in the games. He...," Jun-ho swallowed thickly, averting his gaze, "...became a part of it. He's the leader now."

The conversation replayed in your mind as you watched Player 456 talk with the man in question: Player 001, Hwang In-ho - your husband of almost 20 years.

Jun-ho had obviously opposed your idea of joining the games. But you were too stubborn to listen to him, too stubborn for your own good. That's what In-ho always said anyway. Maybe he was right. Still, you lost almost ten years of your life to amnesia. If there was even the slightest chance for a way back to how things were... you would take it.

Ryu Soo-Yeon. That was the name you chose for the registration. The name you had chosen after you left the hospital to start over, away from everything and everyone you knew - well, except for Jun-ho. You attempted to cut ties with him several times, too ashamed to let him in, when you absolutely refused to see your husband. But Jun-ho was persistent - even more so than you were.

You pushed the rice around in the tin lazily, thinking about your current situation. Thanks to Player 456, you survived the first game without a scratch. It would probably be wise to stick close to him going forward. Then again, that meant you had to face In-ho sooner or later.

A loud commotion ripped you out of your train of thoughts. Looking up, you found In-ho confronting two players who were ganging up on a third one. In a matter of seconds, the two bullies were silenced and groaning in pain, rolling on the floor dramatically. You bit your lip, trying not to chuckle. In-ho had always been a savage when dealing with bullies. The room erupted in applause, with him being the center of attention. You looked up slowly and found him staring directly at you. His face was like a mask, showing no emotion, betraying no thought of his. Swallowing thickly, you forced yourself to smile at him quickly, before immediately turning your attention back to your lunch.

Sleep did not come easy to you that night. In-ho had not approached you after the incident - and you thought about what to do when you two would eventually come face to face.

Funnily enough, you never thought about that possibility when you chased down the recruiter to enter this hell. Judging by Jun-ho's report, In-ho was working behind the scenes, observing these so-called "games". Why was he a participant? Did he recognize your name after all? Or was it because of Player 456 who claimed to be there for the second time?

In-ho... You sighed quietly and turned onto your side. It was strange to suddenly remember your life with him before you lost your memory. That day you regained it was like a fever dream, all the emotions and images from years ago flooding your mind - as if they were never gone in the first place. It was scary, knowing that you lost nearly 10 years of your life. How would your life be now, had not been run over by a truck? Certainly, you would not find yourself in a room with 400 other people literally gambling for your life. "Shit," you whispered angrily, rolling onto your back again, your eyes glued to the ceiling. What had you gotten yourself into? 

The light was almost blinding when the beginning of a new day was announced. Music sounded from the speakers, a melody far too happy and cheerful for a grim place like this. You climbed down from the bed carefully, stretching your limbs a bit. 

"You are... a strange one," a voice behind you said. "Pardon me?" You turned around, tilting your head slightly. The woman grinned, her eyes widening slightly. "Your aura is different from everybody else's. You're not here for the money, are you?" 

Before you could answer, another voice sounded through the speakers, telling all players that the second game was about to begin. As quickly as the woman appeared, she was gone again, leaving you behind confused and slightly startled. 

Your eyes scanned your surroundings, making out a few already familiar faces - including Gi-hun and In-ho. You bit your lip, contemplating your next move. It would be unwise to approach him directly. If Jun-ho's report was accurate, In-ho was nothing like the man you used to know anymore. What if he felt threatened by your presence? What if he snapped? 

Using a fake name was only a small part of your act. You had to be the woman whose name you were carrying. It was easy when you were still without memories. Now, it was more than complicated. What if you messed up? In-ho was smart, a former high ranking member of the Police. It would be easy for him to debunk your charade if he wanted to. Damn it, why did he have to pose as one of the players anyway? It complicated things to an impossible extent. 

"Hey 371! Come on, let's get going," you heard as you were pushed down the stairs gently. Looking behind you, you saw Player 388 smiling brightly at you. "Right," you nodded, letting him lead you down and outside to follow the guards to the next room. 

"A playground?" you whispered as you took in the scenery around you. "It's as nostalgic as it is morbid." 

Your mumbles remained unheard between the voices of the other ones - and Player 100 who apparently only possessed the ability to scream. The recipient of his ranting was Player 456 again. "That poor guy," you chuckled dryly, shaking your head a bit. 

"Players, welcome to the second game. We will begin shortly." Everytime you heard that voice through the speakers, your insides clenched painfully, for it never brought any joy or good news. "This game will be played in teams. Please take the next ten minutes to divide into groups of five."

You cursed quietly. Teams? There was no such thing in this place. Nobody really knew each other, nobody could be trusted; even more so since you still did not know which game you would play this time. How would you ever find good, reliable team mates? What if your team mates let you down and you would all die? What if-

"Hello again," the familiar voice from before spoke to you once more. 388. 

"Hi," you answered with a small smile. "Looking for a team to join?" 

"Uh, no, actually," he stuttered, rubbing his hands nervously, "we have a team, but we need one more member. If you're interested," he lowered his voice slightly, "we have two Marines and the guy who already won the games," he grinned. 

"And...? Who else?" 

"Oh," he answered quickly, "the guy who beat up those other two yesterday."

In-ho. 

Two marines, a former winner, and a former Policeman. That was probably the best team you could find in this place. Without hesitation, you took 388's outstretched hand and followed him to your new team.

The three men looked at you as 388 approached with you in tow. "This is... 371," 388 said proudly, "a... uhm..." "Taekwondo Instructor," you continued the introduction for him.

"Remind me not to mess with you then," the voice that was still terribly familiar to you said. You would recognize his voice anytime. Chuckling lightly, you bit your lip and willed yourself to look up at him again. He outstretched his hand to you slowly as he spoke up once more.

"Welcome to the team, 371." 

[domm1etae]

Overwhelmed by Instinct

san x f!reader

oneshot | mdni

1.1k

Have you ever imagined a needy, desperate alpha in rut, so overwhelmed by pleasure that they pass out while their omega rides them? Their omega, still eagerly bouncing on their cock, only realizes their adorable, pathetic alpha has blacked out from the sheer intensity of it all

nsfw tags under

f/m, a/b/o univ., subby dom san in heat, omega reader, vaginal sex, teasting, dirty talk, pet names, begging, cowgirl, riding, rut, praise, orgasm, and moooore

author's note: my pretty breedable looking baby boy sannie

The air in the shared bedroom was thick with the unmistakable scent of rut, a deep musk that made your knees weak and your body hyper-aware of San sprawled on the bed beneath you. His hands twitched at his sides, fingers clenching and unclenching the sheets like he was holding on for dear life. The poor alpha was in shambles—his skin glistened with sweat, hair sticking to his forehead in damp, messy strands. His usual confident smirk was nowhere to be seen, replaced by glassy, half-lidded eyes and swollen lips parted in desperate pants.

San was in a full rut, and it was absolutely wrecking him.

You, on the other hand, were thriving. As an omega, you knew your heat would hit soon, but right now, you weren’t the one shaking like a leaf. No, that was all San. You felt a little bad for him—his rut always hit like a freight train. And this time, he’d stubbornly tried to resist it until he couldn’t anymore, probably because he didn’t want to admit just how much he needed you. Now, his body was paying the price, teetering on the edge of complete meltdown.

“Y/N,” he groaned, voice hoarse and barely audible. His hips jerked up weakly, chasing your warmth even though you weren’t touching him yet. “Please, I can’t… I need…”

You tilted your head, pretending to be oblivious, even as the ache between your thighs pulsed in response to his desperation. “What is it, Sannie? Use your words, baby.”

He growled, low and shaky, baring his teeth at you like a cornered animal. His chest heaved as he tried to find the strength to argue, but the second your hand trailed over his bare stomach, the fight drained out of him. His head thudded back against the pillows, and he let out a broken whine that made you clench around nothing.

“Need you,” he finally whispered. “Need you so bad, ‘mega. Please.”

That’s all it took for you to climb onto the bed, straddling his lap and grinding down just enough to tease him. His cock, already hard and leaking, twitched against your soaked panties, and the pathetic sound he let out was music to your ears. He looked like he was going to cry from the teasing alone, his rut-fogged brain unable to handle the smallest bit of denial.

“Poor thing,” you cooed, running your fingers through his damp hair. “You’ve been so good for me, holding back like this. But you don’t have to do that anymore, okay? Just let me take care of you.”

You kissed him as you lined him up with your entrance, swallowing his moan as you slowly sank down onto him. The stretch burned in the best way, and you couldn’t help the shuddering gasp that escaped you when he bottomed out. San’s hands shot up to grip your hips, his claws lightly digging into your skin as his body tried to move on its own. He was already trembling again, and you knew it wouldn’t take much to send him over the edge.

“Fuck, you feel… so good,” he slurred, his head lolling to the side like he could barely keep it upright. “‘Mega, can’t last… I…”

“It’s okay,” you murmured, leaning down to kiss his jaw. “Just let it happen. You can cum as much as you need to.”

His eyes widened briefly at your words, and then he was gone. His whole body jerked as he came hard, burying himself as deep as he could while a guttural groan ripped from his chest. You stayed still, letting him ride it out, but the second his grip on your hips loosened, you started moving again.

San’s eyes snapped open, panic flashing across his face. “Wait, wait—”

You cut him off with a kiss, slow and deliberate, as you rocked your hips against him. His words turned into desperate whines, his overstimulated cock twitching inside you as he tried to keep up. The haze of his rut made it impossible for him to think straight, and you could tell he was teetering on the edge of another orgasm already.

“You’re doing so well,” you praised, running your nails lightly down his chest. “So good for me, Sannie. My perfect alpha.”

He let out a choked sob, his hands weakly tugging at your hips to slow you down, but you weren’t having it. You planted your hands on his chest and started bouncing in earnest, chasing your own release while he fell apart beneath you. His eyes rolled back, and his breathing turned shallow, but you were too focused on the way his cock filled you so perfectly to notice at first.

It wasn’t until his hands slipped from your hips and flopped onto the bed that you realized something was wrong. You paused mid-thrust, staring down at him.

“San?”

Nothing. His head was tilted to the side, mouth slightly open as soft snores escaped him. His whole body was slack, completely and utterly passed out. You blinked, your heart pounding in both panic and… something else. The sight of your alpha—so desperate and needy that he’d literally blacked out from the pleasure—was doing things to you that you didn’t want to examine too closely.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” you muttered, shaking your head. But then you looked down at where you were still connected, and the wave of arousal that hit you was too strong to ignore.

You started moving again, slower this time, savoring every inch of him as you rode him to your own release. The way his cock twitched inside you, even in his unconscious state, sent you spiraling faster than you’d expected. You bit down on your lip, trying to stay quiet as your walls fluttered around him, the pleasure rolling through you in waves.

As your climax ebbed, you let yourself collapse onto his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat beneath your cheek. He stirred slightly at the movement, a soft groan escaping him, but he didn’t wake. His hands twitched, and you couldn’t help but smirk at how utterly wrecked he looked. His lips were still parted, face relaxed in a way you rarely saw outside of his ruts.

You shifted carefully, sliding off of him and wincing at the mess you’d both made. San murmured something incoherent in his sleep, his brows furrowing for a moment before smoothing out again. You leaned down to press a gentle kiss to his forehead, brushing his damp hair back with tender fingers.

“Good boy,” you whispered, your voice soft. “Sleep tight, Sannie.”

After cleaning yourself up, you returned to the bed, curling up beside him. His scent enveloped you, warm and comforting despite the lingering haze of rut. You traced idle patterns on his chest, your mind already wandering to the days ahead. If this was how his rut started, you couldn’t wait to see how it ended.

[lovelettersfromluna]

Under Your Spell

summary: what’s that old saying? Best way to get over someone is to get under…..yeah yeah, we all know where this going, don’t we?

an: Hi! Long time no see, huh? I hope you’ve all been doing well! I’ve missed it here a lot, more than you could ever know. The semester is over, and I’m finally free! (For a little bit). College is very hard, and it took a lot of me this year, but let’s not get into that right now. This chapter has been VERY long awaited, and I am so sorry that it’s taken this long to get to you all. This one is pretty short, but not only did I want to get it out to you all in time, but I also have lots planned for the next chapter! (Luna you’re putting four parts into one of your fics???) I know I know, shocker right? Anyways, I hope you all enjoy this past despite it being short! Love you 🤍🤍🤍

warnings: MDNI!, 18+ fic only, slight smut, lots of angst, mean!Ellie, idiot!Ellie??, Abby’s in this one hehe, making out, drinking, let me know if I missed anything!

Part 1, Part 2

Sleeping in your bed had become extremely difficult.

It was like every time you laid your head against the soft pillows, your skin sliding against the soft material of your sheets, your brain would be filled with images of Ellie. The feeling of her lips on your throat, her hands on your hips, everything she’d given to you was permanently burned into your memory.

You couldn’t get away from her, no matter what you did.

You let out a soft sigh as you sat at your old desk, your cheek resting against your palm as your fingers traced along the smooth material of the wood. Things had gotten a lot trickier after your last night with Ellie, your mind clouded with confusion regarding the entire ordeal.

Ellie had….sought out for you. She definitely did the first time but there was something about her coming home from a night out, and slipping into your sheets that had your mind in shambles. It didn’t make any sense, you were sure that whatever happened between you and Ellie was a one off, something that was influenced mainly by alcohol and forced proximity. The played out story of the brother’s best friend ending up in a sticky situation with the younger sister. It was cliche, but it happened.

That didn’t change that it left your stomach in knots every time you heard the floorboards creak near Ellie’s room.

You’d done a pretty good job at avoiding her and the entire situation. It meant that you were in complete and total lockdown, even worse than before, however it saved any awkward tension, which you’d much rather trade for a few months of complete isolation.

But as all good things did, it was coming to an end.

Because you were given a choice, one that dangled your pride, and your social life in your face, forcing you to choose which you valued more.

Every summer, a huge party was thrown down at the beach. You and your brother joined as soon as you were old enough to drink, your parents went when they were younger, their parents went, and nearly everyone in your town experienced it at least once. It was like a tradition, one that every young person would look forward to.

It was one of your favorite parts about being home for the summer.

However, there wasn’t a party thrown in town that your brother and Ellie wouldn’t join.

And that’s where your choice came in.

You’d been going back and forth with yourself all week, weighing out the pros and the cons of it all. You knew that there were ways to get around her, to make sure that you wouldn’t see here while you were out there. To top it all off, you hated the idea of letting Ellie rip away one of your favorite things to do while you were home, giving her that much power didn’t make any sense to you.

But you still couldn’t push yourself to do it.

You swiveled your chair back and forth, staring up at your ceiling as you struggled to make a decision. However the clock was ticking, and the party was officially happening tonight. You didn’t have much time to go back and forth with yourself anymore.

It was either you swallow your pride, go out and enjoy yourself for the first time since everything happened with Ellie, ultimately standing up for yourself and sending her a big fuck you while doing so…

Or

You let her win. You sacrifice your time there and you let Ellie steal your time. You let her make a fool out of you by being too hung up on the very weird attention she’d been giving you, and you stay in your room for yet another night while everyone else is having the time of their lives.

Thinking of it that way didn’t leave you much of an option, did it?

You practically rip your room apart looking for the perfect outfit to wear, which ends up being a pink halter top that flows down a bit at the ends, a pair of your favorite denim shorts and your sneakers. By the time you’re finishing up your hair and your makeup, you hear the faint sound of your brothers minions showing up, pairing that with the music that starts playing leaves you to figuring they’re probably pregaming before they leave.

That’s when it starts feeling real.

You let out a deep sigh as you stare in the mirror, fixing your top over your chest before fluffing out your hair and fixing your lip gloss, giving yourself a gentle affirming nod before you push your phone into your back pocket and head downstairs.

A blanket of silence falls between Derek and his friends when they notice you, multiple sets of eyes zeroing in on you as you slip between your brother and one of his friends silently to pour a shot before throwing it back with ease. Hazels the first to comment on it.

“Awe man, I didn’t think the first grader could hang….you joining us tonight sweetie?” She taunts, her perfect teeth pressing down into her plush bottom lip as she stares at you, a challenging look in her eye.

Derek is the next one to speak up, a surprised look on his face as he stares down at you. “Wait…really? You’re coming with us?” He quips hopefully. Had Hazel kept her fucking mouth shut, you probably would’ve found the sentiment sweet from him.

You inhale deeply to calm yourself, staring down into the empty shot glass before you finally raise your eyes to look at Hazel, only to find her standing across the island, her back pressed into Ellie’s chest as her tattooed hands toy with the exposed skin of Hazel’s waist.

You completely ignore Ellie’s eyes burning holes into you.

“Shut the fuck up Hazel” you bite back before pouring another shot.

Your words earns reactions from the group instantly, even your brother chuckling softly as he gives you a proud smile. Hazel however, is not amused in the slightest.

Her poker face drops for a moment, nostrils flaring as she stares you down like she wants to jump over the table and have you for herself, but she quickly picks it up, giving you an impressed smirk before she nods slowly.

“Ahh so she speaks…my apologies sweetheart” she practically grits out before she lets out an annoyed sigh.

“Let’s go then. I don’t wanna be late” she quickly seethes out, pushing herself out of Ellie’s arms so she can grab her purse that was sitting on the couch.

You trail behind the others after your brother reassures you things will be okay, giving him a soft smile as you all pile into his car, ultimately missing the way Ellie’s eyes trail you the entire times

The car ride there feels nostalgic. The summer breeze turns cooler the closer you get to the familiar beach, your brother blasting his music in the front as you rest your head against the edge of the window, letting the wind blow through your hair.

It makes you wish things were different. The warmth in your chest would’ve paired so well with a better crowd, one that didn’t see you as the annoying little sister that tagged along when she really shouldn’t be.

Your mind takes you to an alternate reality where things are different, one where you get along with your brother’s friends. You wonder if they’d like you if they gave you the chance, if they weren’t predisposed to not liking you simply because you’re younger than them…

You wonder if things had been different, if you and Ellie could’ve been something.

Because clearly there’s attraction there, there had to be. Were you so wrong for even letting your brain wander there? Wondering what life would be like if you and Ellie were cordial, let alone experimenting with a relationship in a normal way, and not the way you’d been going on for this past summer.

What would it be like if she treated you the way she treated Hazel while others were around? What would it be like if you were in Hazel’s position? Propped up in Ellie’s lap while the others sang songs and joked around with each other?

You’d never know, because you were in this reality, not a perfect one.

You don’t even realize when your brother pulls up to the beach. The gentle shake of the car as his friends practically run out is what rips you away from your thoughts. You clear your throat as you make your way out once everyone is gone, brushing down your outfit as you make your way down the familiar path to the beach. The beach is blossoming with the sound of life. Loud music quickly surrounds you, people dancing, swimming, drinking, it’s almost so perfect it feels cliche, and that alone reminds you that you’d made the right decision by deciding to come out.

You’re the moth, and the ocean is your flame.

It draws you in closer as you sip the drink from your solo cup, appreciating the pattern of the tide rolling in, wetting the sand beneath it, only to then pull back out shortly after. It’s what you’d missed most about the beach in your home town, its ability to calm you no matter what was almost remarkable, even with the crowd of people around you.

You have to stop yourself from walking too far down the beach, knowing deep down that Derek’s friends would take any chance to ditch you while we’re oblivious to what was going on. It’s how you end up out on one of the piers, your legs dangling over the edge as you stare up at the moon, watching as the waves roll in while you sip on your drink.

There’s heavy footsteps along the wooden pier, ones that you don’t quite catch between the heavy sound of the waves, and the music nearby. It isn’t until a familiar voice rings in your ear that you realize you’re not alone.

“You know I heard you were back in town….but I thought there’s no way you’d come back without texting me first” the words come from behind you, and your eyes widen once you catch the tall frame standing over you.

Abby Anderson

She was one of your closest friends back in elementary school. It wasn’t nice to admit, but you’d drifted apart once you both got to high school. It was in the most natural way possible, but she always managed to stick around in your mind from time to time.

Before all of that, you two were stuck at the hip. It was a similar friendship to Ellie and your brother, the two of you always running through your house, causing many headaches for both your parents and her parents whenever you were both together.

You hadn’t seen Abby in years since you left for college, it’d been so long that you didn’t even realize how long it had been.

Her physique was quite the sign that time had passed though.

You gasp softly when you realize it’s her, quickly pushing yourself up off the pier to push yourself into her already opened arms.

“I didn’t know you came back for the summer…god it’s been so long” you sigh out against her broad shoulders, the sweet smell of her perfume filling your nose as you let your eyes flutter shut, relishing in the feeling of her strong arms wrapping around your waist.

“You’d know if you thought to hit me up once in a while” she teases. You can hear the smirk in her voice as she keeps you close. It makes you giggle softly as you finally pull away from her, wanting to get a good look at the girl.

She’s just as pretty as you remember. Abby always had the prettiest blonde hair, and the most charming smile. Those were never things that you failed to notice about your friend, however she’s different now. She’s taller, her build a hell of a lot more stronger than when you were in elementary school, her hair longer and tucked into a thick braid…

You have to stop yourself from staring.

She peers down into your cup, noticing that you were getting empty. She nods her head towards the bonfire before speaking.

“Let’s top you up while you tell me alllll about your life in the big city, yeah?” She offers, to which you dumbly nod to as you follow next to her almost obediently.

After that, the two of you were glued to the hip the entire night. Between catching up on what life had brought the two of you within your adult years, and reminiscing over your time as kids, the world could be burning around the both of you and you two wouldn’t have noticed a thing. For the first time since you’d came home, you had finally found someone to spend time with.

And Ellie notices the entire thing.

Her eyes were on you the entire night. From the moment you came downstairs at the house, it was like she was under some fucked up spell that made it so she couldn’t function unless you were in her line of view. She couldn’t count on her hands how many annoyed sighs she received when her friends realized she wasn’t listening to what they were saying, instead busying herself with figuring out where the hell you were.

She tracked you like she was the predator, and you were her prey. She made sure you didn’t stray too far away from the group, made sure you didn’t do something stupid like strip naked to take a quick dip into the cold ocean. She was just being helpful! It wasn’t like she felt her mouth go dry every time it looked like someone was going to approach you….

And its like fate was on your side that night, because the moment Abby approached you at the dock, Hazel was settling herself into Ellie’s lap, toying with the hair at the nape of her neck and ultimately blocking you from her view completely.

The next time she does get a chance to see you again, you’re wrapped up in none other than Abby Anderson’s arms.

It’s just her luck, isn’t it? That out of every girl in your small beachside town, you choose that fucking idiot. You choose the girl that everyone knows to be Ellie’s sworn fucking enemy since forever. The only explanation is that you’re doing this on purpose. You know exactly what to do to get under Ellie’s skin. You did it when you were flirting with Jesse right in front of her, you did it when you kicked her out of your bedroom the last time you two were together, and you were doing it right fucking now by getting all cozy with Abby fucking Anderson.

So of course, she has to try and stop this.

But Ellie soon realizes that she spends way too much time mentally dwelling over this, and accusing you of something she knew deep down was very much out of character for you, because the second her eyes search for the two of you, she’s met with something she can only assume was pulled out of her worst nightmare.

You and Abby hand in hand as she helps you into her car.

Ellie is quick to push Hazel off her lap, her eyes now frantically searching for your brother. Once she spots him, she’s interrupting his conversation the moment she opens her mouth.

“Hey man…have you um….do know where your sisters going right now?” She asks almost out of breath, her eyes shifting quickly between Derek and Abby’s truck as she pulls out of her spot in the parking lot.

Your brother raises his eyebrows as he looks back to where you are in the girls car, nodding as he takes a sip of his drink. “Yeah, she just came and told me her friend is gonna take her home” he explains casually with a shrug before he tries to turn back to his conversation.

Ellie scoffs in disbelief at his casual tone, her hand reaching forward to grab his shoulder and turn him around to face her again.

“Friend? Did you even see who she was leaving with?” Her voice is laced with worry and distress as she complains to your brother, the man oblivious to Ellie’s frantic demeanor.

“Wasn’t it just Abby? They’ve been friends forever…I honestly don’t trust anyone other than that girl. Have you seen her fucking arms? I think my sister is in good hands with her” he chuckles softly as he gives Ellie’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

Between his words and his reaction to the entire thing, Ellie feels like she’s going to lose her fucking mind.

Her green eyes go wide as she stares at your brother before she gives a laugh of disbelief. “Are you fucking kidding me? It’s just Abby? As in Abby fucking Anderson? Are we talking about the same girl here? Or are you suffering from fucking brain damage?” She snaps back.

Her wild eyes and mean words take your brother back, his playful laughter dying down once he realizes that he friend is quite literally tweaking over the fact that you’ve left with the girl that he knew she had some beef with.

“Woah…calm down man. It’s just my sister, your beef with Anderson doesn’t really have anything to do with her…she’ll be fine” he tries to assure her once more, his tone softening to calm his friend.

This does nothing though. It makes Ellie pinch the bridge of her nose in annoyance as she shakes her head. “Give me your keys” she demands with her palm out, pushed towards him.

Derek furrows his brows in confusion. “What? Are you seriously going to-“ he’s quickly cut off by Ellie, stopping him from finishing his question.

“Give me your fucking keys Derek. I’m not letting that asshole get it in with your sister” she finally admits, her words making your brothers eyes go wide with realization, finally seeing the situation for what it really was.

He inhales deeply before he reaches into his pocket and finally places his keys into his friends hand without another word, biting back the smirk that threatened to grace his lips.

He always thought Ellie’s animosity towards you was weird, but he never thought it would mean this all along.

She doesn’t even notice, the girl quickly taking the keys and mumbling a small ‘thanks’ as she jogs up the path to the parking lot to jump into your brothers car, and race home.

Meanwhile at your house, Abby was showing you quite the time.

It didn’t take long for you two to give into the tension that had settled the moment she picked you up from the dock. One moment you were toying with the little loose hairs falling from her braid and framing her face, and the next you were tugging her up to your bedroom and locking the door behind you.

Her hands were all over you, caressing your body as her knee began grinding into your core, her lips swallowing up your moans as you clung to her desperately, chasing your high as if your life depended on it.

The feeling of Abby against you cleared Ellie out of your head almost immediately. You weren’t worried about her or the mean things she’d said to you, or the nasty way she’d treated you after getting what she wanted from you. What once was a bed that you could barely sleep in without thinking of her was now filled with the feeling of Abby, and you couldn’t be more grateful.

Ellie realizes she’s too late when she pulls into your driveway to see Abby’s truck is still there, and she has to stop herself from ripping your brothers car door off when she gets out and slams it closed. There’s still something in her that hopes this is all innocent, that you didn’t really do the unthinkable and take Abby Anderson home to spite her. She hopes that the sweet side of you has taken the moral high ground, that you’ve gone to bed like the good girl she knows you are and Abby just happened to walk home and leave her car in your driveway.

So when she’s jogging on the stairs after frantically searching for you downstairs, hoping that she’ll find you sound asleep in your bed, her blood practically runs cold when her hand wraps around your doorknob…

And she can make out the familiar sounds of your moans through your door, paired with Abby’s words of encouragement to go with it.

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Hypothermia.

Pairing: Yandere!Winter Spirit x Reader (OC).

Word Count: 2.6k.

TW: Kidnapping, Hypothermia, Obsessive Behavior, Implied/Mentioned Death, Manipulation, Implied Stalking, and Implied Cannibalism.

You’d heard, once, that in its final stages, freezing to death could actually be quite warm.

It was called paradoxical undressing, or something similar enough to warrant the connection. First, you’d be shivering and lost, then rigid and confused, and in the final moments of your life, hypothermia would compel you to spend your last drops of energy stripping yourself of all things good and warming, ridding yourself of any barriers that might’ve saved you from its fatal touch. In the end, you’d die paralyzed, breathless, and worst of all, convinced that you were the warmest you’d ever been. It was a cruel thing to do to anyone, let alone a innocent victim of bad luck. That, or it was supposed to be a kindness, meant to make you feel just a little more at-home as you laid down and accepted what you couldn’t stave off. How you’d take it was something you couldn’t speak for just yet, but you had a feeling that would change soon enough.

So, to reiterate, you’d know you were freezing to death when you started to feel warm. Whether or not it was true, the superstition proved to be a small mercy, because you still felt pretty fucking cold.

You couldn’t feel anything below your knees. Your arms were at least somewhat protected where they were tucked against your chest, half-buried underneath the heavy flannel you’d been able to steal on your way out, but there wasn’t anything you could do about how the snow and ice sunk into the leather of your boots, how the wind seemed to cut through the paper-thin denim of your jeans. A scarf saved your nose and mouth from the worst of the chill, but in the middle of the night, miles and miles and miles away from the nearest streetlamp or flashlight, you couldn’t afford to cover your eyes. It was a miracle that you weren’t crying. You weren’t sure, but you didn’t want to find out if your tears would freeze against your cheeks.

You took another shuffling step forward, and your foot caught on a half-buried tree root, sending you crumbling to the ground. Cold bit into your hands and knees, and you choked out a miserable whine, your dignity abandoned around the time you lost the ability to move your fingers. Not for the first time, you thought about turning back. You could still taste blood on your lips, sure, could still attempt to ignore the ache in your gut where hunger should’ve been, but nothing could’ve been worse than this. At least, next time you tried to run, you could do it during the day, when the cold would be just a little more forgiving. At least, next time, you could save yourself a few hours of trouble and drown yourself in the sink, right next to the other co—

Something flashed across your peripheral – movement, light. You shambled to your feet, snapping in the direction of a dull glow just barely bright enough to cut through the dark of the forest, to prove that there were other people wandering these godforsaken woods at this unholy time of night. You were exhausted beyond sleep, hopeless beyond aid, but still, you forced yourself to stumble around trees and over snowdrifts, to blink away the haziness in your vision and believe that the silhouette of a cabin you could see through the darkness was just that – a cabin. It was a small structure, no more than a couple of rooms, and you couldn’t see any roads or cars, but the windows were lit, and smoke was rising from the chimney, and the snow had been cleared away from the porch, proving that someone was actively taking care of the property. For the first time in hours, you dragged yourself onto something other than endless sleet and for the first time in your life, found yourself thankful to be walking on perfectly solid, perfectly dry earth.

You made it onto the porch before stopping. It was a stupid thing to worry about, really – whether or not some recluse living all alone in the middle of the woods would like you. The roads were closed, iced-over, and you weren’t going to get another chance to find help, but that also meant you weren’t going to find other help. If the cabin’s owner didn’t take kindly to uninvited guests, then you might’ve been better off wandering back into the forest. There were worse things in the world than the cold.

…

Actually, on second thought, there really weren’t. Before you could hesitate again, you brought a fist to the door and knocked stiffly. It swung open in an instant.

You blinked once, then twice, before acknowledging the man standing in the now-open doorway. Saying he looked out of place would’ve been an understatement. Rather than the old, grisly, lumberjack-type you’d been expecting, he almost seemed princely – a little too tall and a little too angular, willowy in a way that made you feel smaller by comparison. His skin was bone-white, like the blood running underneath it was blue rather than red, and his shoulder-length hair was so pale, calling it any shade of blonde wouldn’t have done justice to its absolute lack of color. He was dressed for another season – his white tunic long-sleeved, but thin and open to the navel, and his pants made out of a similarly unsubstantial type of linen. His eyes were the worst part, the same pale blue as open sky or clear water. The color wasn’t damning on its own, but something about the lighting made his pupils seem nonexistent – shades of blue spiraling into themselves indefinitely. You might’ve thought he was blind if his gaze hadn’t been so tangibly fixed on you.

“My love,” he sighed, each word slightly distorted by an accent you couldn’t name. Then, with a slight gasp, “Come in, come in. Ah, poor thing, you’re already half-frozen.”

More than half, but you weren’t in a place to correct him. “…I’m sorry to bother you,” you muttered, letting yourself be swept into the cabin and all-but dropped into an armchair so close to the fireplace, it felt like the flames were licking at your knees. You shuffled that much closer and peeled off your scarf, embarrassed not to have thought to do so before knocking.

While your host fluttered around you, mumbling about hot drinks and meals, you took another stab at explaining yourself. Even if he wasn’t listening, it couldn’t hurt to make yourself seem that much more unfortunate. “I—I’m staying in another cabin a few miles up the mountain. It was me and a few friends, but the snowstorm caught us off-guard, and after losing power—”

“They always seem to,” he cut in, pausing behind you. A quilted blanket was draped over your shoulders, and you pulled it over your chest with no hesitation. “I can’t fathom why. The seasons change at the same time every year.”

You bit back a scowl, not sure whether to feel patronized or offended. “We were waiting for the roads to re-open, but there was an accident, and—”

“And you ran out of food.” Another log was thrown on the fire, sending tendrils of heat crawling up your arms and rooting into your chest. “I should make you some tea, shouldn’t I? Oh, or would you prefer something to eat?”

You should’ve been starving, but the idea of eating alone had you gagging on bile. You dropped your eyes into your lap. “…I’m alright, thank you. Just a little cold.”

There was another sigh, this one more dismissive than the first. You heard light footsteps against old wood, the sound delicate shifting, and then, he was perched on the lip of the fireplace, his chin propped on his fist and his expression wistful in a distant sort of way. Well, as much as you could see of it, anyway. You refused to let your gaze rise above his collarbones. “You’re going to be stubborn about this, aren’t you?”

The question was playful, accompanied by an airy laugh. This time, you couldn’t swallow your frown. “I’m sorry, but if we’ve met before, I don’t—”

“I suppose you wouldn’t.” He seemed to have a problem with that – coming too quickly, before you were fully prepared to move on. “I think people are still calling me Boreas, but it has been some time since I last checked. I wouldn’t mind if you chose another name.”

“Bor,” you said, more to yourself than to him. “I’m—”

“(Y/n).” You physically recoiled – crowding yourself against the back of your seat. Bor only laughed. “That’s my fault. It’s just—I’ve been so excited to meet you. There aren’t a lot of people who understand each other like we do.”

Huh.

Well, he was crazy, clearly. That was fine. It was still better than freezing to death. Probably.

“You’re scared, aren’t you?” he asked, practically grinning. “That’s alright. Winter’s a scary time, and we ought to seek refuge in one another.”

It was a sweet sentiment posed at the worst possible time. Memories of dark rooms and torn blankets flickered across your mind, but you did your best to keep them at bay. “I think I’ve had enough huddling, for a while.”

“Of course, nor would I expect otherwise. You’ll be comfortable here, I promise. We’ll knit, and embroider, and cook – there’s quite a lot of things you can cook over an open fire. It’s a shame most people never get a chance to try it.” He paused, shook his head, as if cutting himself off. “Are you sure I can’t get you something to eat? You must’ve walked an awfully long way.”

The idea of eating was still repulsive, but when you tried to reaffirm your rejection, you couldn’t quite seem to. You were starting to regain feeling in your chest again, and with it, your stomach. With the cold momentarily put aside, emptiness took precedent – exhaustion and thirst and would-be hunger forming a shell of hollowness at your core. You’d have to get out of this cabin at some point, but it wouldn’t be a bad idea to give yourself something to burn when you did.

“A cup of tea would be nice.”

Bor beamed. “I’ve already got the kettle on.”

And, just like that, he was gone, swept into another room before you could so much as mention that you preferred cream to sugar. With a deep exhale, you collapsed against the back of your chair, glancing around the cabin’s interior. It was larger than you guessed – the living room alone bigger than the entirety of its exterior would’ve suggested. Your tired eyes glanced over shelves of clutter and knickknacks, tables crowded with well-worn books and half-emptied mugs, chairs and sofas all piled high with pillows and blankets in every shape and color and form you could imagine. It would’ve been homey, under better circumstances. Even now, under circumstances that were very much not better, you found yourself slackening, shifting, closing your eyes for just a touch longer than you should’ve. By the time Bor blustered back in, a teacup in either hand, you were tracing the delicate conch shells carved into either armrest of your seat just to keep yourself awake. He waited patiently for you to pick yourself up, accept the cup, and bring it eagerly to your lips.

The taste was familiar and light – peppermint, or something similarly seasonal. Rather than returning to his post by the hearth, Bor perched himself on the arm of your chair. “Isn’t that better?” And then, before your addled mind could thing to answer, “It must’ve been difficult – being all alone for so long. I’d say I can’t imagine how you must’ve felt, but I had plenty of time to imagine.”

You drained half the cup before managing to drag it far enough away from your mouth to respond. “It was only a few days.”

“Far more than you should’ve had to endure. I was tempted to send you company, but—” His smile took on a bashful lilt. “You wouldn’t have liked it. Maybe later on, if I’m ever forced to leave you on your own again.”

“You make it sound like I’m not going home.”

He was almost too quick to clarify, laughing as he strung an arm over your shoulders, pulling you close to his side. He was cold as ice, but you let him – too tired to resist. “And we’d never want you to think something like that, would we? I already feel terrible about how long you had to stay away.”

His words were sympathetic, but that was all. You could still make out the crescent moon of his smile, the glee in his voice, the satisfaction in how tightly he held you against him. Bristling, you tried to pull away, but you must’ve spent more of your strength than you realized. As soon as you drew back, a spear of pure cold bit into your arm where his hand was curled around it, then your chest, sending you shrinking and shivering into his side. Bor only hummed, raking his fingers through your hair. “Tired, darling?” You wanted to refuse, to pull yourself together, to leave, but even as you started to shake your head, you knew it just wasn’t possible. Slowly, shakily, you managed to nod, and Bor rewarded you with a ginger kiss to the top of your head. His lips were as cold as his skin. “Let’s get you to bed.”

Walking was a fantasy – as implausible as flying pigs or Christmas in July. You made no effort to protest as Bor gathered you in his arms and, with a surprising amount of strength for his lean form, carried you deeper into the cabin. The passing scenery blurred together, your mind too exhausted and your vision too fogged to hold focus. You only fully processed where he was taking you when you felt your back press into something soft – a bed, one softer and warmer than anything you’d ever felt, before.

It was nice. As if by instinct, your hands found the buttons of your borrowed flannel, fumbling for a moment before a more capable pair took over. Your shoes were done away with next, then your jeans, leaving you in just your oversized undershirt. You wouldn’t have minded if he took that, too. Anything to make you feel a little less overheated.

Eventually, his weight settled next to yours, and with your eyes shut, you curled into him – resting your head in his lap as he rubbed freezing shapes into your back. By some miracle, you found the will to speak, if only in a whisper. “I didn’t hurt anyone. It was an accident.”

“I know. No one would say that you did.”

“It’s what they would’ve wanted. Not all of us had to die.”

“My thoughts exactly. We should take care of each other, shouldn’t we?”

“I don’t want to go home.” You could still taste the iron on your tongue – raw meat tinged with ice-cold ash. “I don’t think I can.”

A chirping laugh filled the bedroom – bright and piercing and as cutting as a cold wind through tender flesh. You forced yourself to open your eyes, and by anything but your own volition, met his. “But, love,” he murmured, leaning down to press a lingering kiss into your cheek, then the corner of your mouth, then finally, your lips.

In the brief moment before he pulled away, you genuinely believed you would never feel cold again.

“You’re already here.”

[r0-boat]

Whb Kings Do NNN Challenge

With a magic cock ring the Kings are (totally not forced) to do a 30-day challenge where they are forbidden from orgasming for the entire month of November let's see how they're faring!

If they win the challenge they get to have you for a week straight doing whatever they want to you.

Satan

Satan was extremely confident that he could do this challenge no problem. Human struggle to do this challenge and he's a king so obviously he would have a better chance.

After the first week he was whining and growling threatening you that as soon as this thing comes off He's going to fuck you and pump all his seed inside you. And you're not going to cum not even once as payback with the suffering you put him through.

Everything irritation because all he could feel is the throbbing between his legs tearing and ripping apart every stress ball in his hand as he tries so hard to stop him from knocking out anyone that mildly inconveniences him.

Mammon

He kind of likes the feeling of being pent up and needy for you. Mammon becomes more and more touchy as time goes on. He'll kiss you and touch you and before you know it he'll be spreading your legs to have more.

Just because he can't cum doesn't mean he can't fuck you, Don't let him do this! Because then he'll go on for hours and hours seemingly without end. Fucking you harder and harder, The sensation in his full balls burns so good.

He cannot wait for when this ring is off him and he gets to give you all of his cum.

Leviathan

Levi's lasts longer than you think, He has a high tolerance for pain like this so it looks like it's hardly affecting him.

In reality, He is in shambles. He can't think and it's driving him crazy He's even resorted to pumping his cock underneath his desk or anywhere where no one can see him. Moaning and gasping your name as tears and drool fall from his face.

He wants to cum, He needs to cum, but he doesn't want to lose this silly little challenge His pride depends on it.

Beelzebub

It's like he's being starved. Please please he's begging you he'll do anything! Let him cum.

He's made the grave mistake of fucking you and hopes he could perhaps try to convince you. But the pain just keeps getting worse and all he wants to do is finish inside you over and over.

He doesn't care about the challenge anymore He just wants to cum. When he pins you down he growls and moans like a feral animal rutting and bucking his hips to no avail. Muttering that he's starving and he needs to cum. The only thing to quench his hunger is feeling your core on his tongue.

Belphegor

How annoying... How very annoying... He thought he could just do this challenge get it over with and have you all to himself for a week as part of the deal. But it turns out he bit off more than he could chew. He thought he could just sleep through it and be done but no.

Wet dreams constantly wake him up and He wakes up with in all too familiar ache and stiffness. He wants to touch himself but he knows from experience it will just get worse.

He doesn't want to lose the challenge now because then it will make him seem weak. But he can't let this go unpunish. He might just give you to Beleth he'll know what to do to punish you.

Lucifer

Child's Play. He's done this his whole life it'll be easy for a month. In fact he's so confident that instead of a cock ring he goes a step further. A chastity belt.

That is what he initially thought, turns out since becomtemptations, it's a lot harder to resist such temptations. Now that he's accepted his pride is on the line and he will not lose.

Lucifer looks like he's unaffected; but believe me he wants you so bad And he will absolutely tell you how he's feeling if you ask. Perhaps he'll even try to convince you with his silver tongue to take off the belt so he could fuck you.

He kind of regrets the chastity belt now because all he wants to do is make you sit on his lap and grinding against you.

The demon of lust was never one to hold back. So when you put up a challenge he was vaguely familiar with he laughed and automatically refused but then you put up an offer he simply too tempting for him not to at least try... Having you for an entire week... Even if it's just for a week The fact that you'll be doing whatever he desires was what sealed the deal.

Asmodeus

He never thought being so pent up would feel so good. He hates it but at the same time the burn of not getting something he usually has a luxury too is addicting.

Only you turn him into a feral beast. And it gets worse This is mind betrays him showing him delicious images of flooding your insides with all that cum his balls is making. He can't help but taunt you and see the uneasiness and fear in your eyes as he's lasting longer than you expected.

[samkerrworshipper]

the lawn is dead. pt.2

hi! i wrote a part 2! i’m on a unofficial hiatus but had some inspiration the last few days and had to finish this. hope it provides a little bit more comfort then the last chapter .. sorry xo

warnings: suicidal themes, self harm themes, themes of depression, anxiety, dark thoughts. viewer discretion advised.

You can describe the carpet of this office better then most people can describe themselves.

It’s a rug, for the most part, except for the where it’s clear a person has chosen laziness in favour of lifting up the heavier furniture to place the rug down underneath it. Where the rug doesn’t cover, there is bleak grey carpet that feels more boring then the time you spend in this room.

Where the carpet lacks in literally everything, the rug makes up for it blindingly.

It’s a messy mixture of far too many colours, pinks, purples, blues, greens and neutrals. It doesn’t make any sense in your mind, why somebody would chose for the focal point of their room to be a rug that doesn’t match with any of the furniture. It’s another sign that the furniture came before the rug, all of the furniture is dark mahogany, beautiful pieces that look as if they’ve come from and English period piece, whereas the rug looks so modern it’s almost painful.

The rest of the furniture has been picked with similar taste.

The painting on the wall looks like what a child would vomit after going to a birthday party. Every time you’ve come here you’ve had a new analogy, but this week that is the one, it looks like stomach contents and you can’t get past it, to the point it’s made you physically nauseated.

From the painting moves onto the bookshelf, where there is a odd mix of medical textbooks, classics and selfawareness books, all stacked in such disarray that you have to keep your eyes away because it makes you uncomfortable.

Beyond the furniture is your psychologist, with her stupid fucking note pad, stupid glasses perched on the very tip of her nose and stupidly calm face that never really changed.

She was supposed to be a specialist, the best of the best, supposed to be the greatest and getting to the bottom of the most famous athletes problems and yet you found pride in alluding her.

One hour, every four days was what you were down to now, a couple of weeks ago it had been every other day and that had been fucking torture.

Sometimes all you wanted to do was rip her eyeballs out, or her brains, or something else. You swore she made your ears bleed and your will to live deteriorate with every second and it was already pretty low.

“You can’t avoid my question forever.”

It was also that annoying tone that sent you, the sort of tone that meant she knew that technically for the whole of the hour she could ask you whatever she pleased and you were technically supposed to answer her. Defiance on your end just ended up in you being suspended from something else that made your life just a tiny bit more liveable.

“No, I haven’t talked to Mapi yet.”

You’ve been avoiding it, there have bits and pieces of homework from your therapist, but this one is by far the hardest.

“How about Alexia, how does she feel about that.”

You don’t want to tell her that you and Alexia are in shambles as it is, add on the pressure of her best friend being psychologically destroyed because of you and just talking about any of it at all and it’s like dynamite.

“Supportive.”

Your therapist nods, but in the way that you know she doesn’t quite believe you.

“Have you started to reintegrate with the team? I know last time we talked you mentioned that before the incident you’d been feeling quite isolated because of your ankle injury. It’s important that you start to normalise your life again before you start to self isolate.”

You don’t call it self-isolation, you like to call it self protection. You protect yourself by pushing against the grain, by keeping to yourself. It’s a lot easier that way.

“I’ve been busy.”

It’s a lie and a blatant one, your days are filled with complete nothingness. You can’t play football, not until she clears you, and you know that it’s not going to happen anytime soon based on the trend of your current sessions. There has been the same amount of progress as there was two weeks ago when you started with her. You shut down at every attempt she makes to try and open you up, you talk when you have to. It’ll probably get you sent back to a ward. You don’t remember much from your transition from the hospital to home, but you do remember signing something that referred to you making significant process or else you would be sent back.

Progress for your therapist is getting more then two word responses from you. You’re aware she’s in kahoots with Alexia, that Alexia is probably providing her more information then you are.

“You’re giving me the look that means that you’re writing something down along the lines of ‘unncooperative’.”

She is also in kahoots with the staff at Barcelona, another thing you signed was that she would work in conjunction with the clubs doctors to get you back to where you were, or somewhere in the vicinity.

They know every time you have a bad session, you’re guaranteed a consolation call from one of the coaches or even sometimes a teammate check-in telling you how brave you are and how strong you are for doing this.

You don’t agree, you nearly took the cowards way out and you’re proud of it. You wish it had fucking worked, every single second, of every single day, you wish you’d succeeded, wished that this hadn’t all ended up how it did.

“That’s not what I wrote, I wrote a observation. Uncooperative would be you refusing to speak to me like you did for our first two sessions, even if you lie it’s still trying.”

You don’t want to be curious of her, you’ve tried to give her as little attention as possible.

You’ve adapted the act that you call, therapised you.

You do your best job of smiling here and there, or at least when you know that you’re supposed to. Therapised you extends to a few people, Alexia, coaches, physios, people on the street.

You believe you’ve become a seasoned liar.

The funniest part is that sometimes you start to believe your act, you start to believe that all the ash and embers in your chest is really alight with flames, like you’re truly alive.

But then, you would pause, sit down, lie down, dissasociate and you would be reminded that that wasn’t your body. Your body wasn’t a place of life and prosper, it was as dead as anywhere else.

“What was the observation?”

You try not to be curious over her, or curious in general, you keep everything to yourself.

“You’ve told me time and time again that you attempted because you believed that not a single person would care if you were gone. Yet you wrote a letter, you knew that somebody would care, somebody would miss you. Guilt is what kept you from doing it earlier and guilt was what kept you from vanishing without a trace. Your conscience was clean in your own words, but that’s not true, your conscience was anything but clean. So what pushed you over?”

You hate that therapists have a way of worming out weird bits of information that they can use against you to worm out more bits of information, like they know your brain inside to out.

“My conscience was clean.”

Your therapist pulls her glasses up from her nose and scribbles on her pad again.

“Why’d you write a note then, specifically why did you write a note to your ex girlfriend?”

There are so many things you could say to that, but you can’t quite find the words.

“Let me rephrase to make it easier. When you were in the hospital, and Alexia reacted so viscerally, you weren’t surprised. You expected her to feel something about what happened, you didn’t seem surprised at all by her words or actions. You knew that she was going to be hurt by what you did. So, how was your conscience truly clean?”

Thinking about Alexia in the hospital makes you feel as nauseous as the furniture does.

Your still mad at her, still mad at yourself for never changing her as your medical contact and medical proxy. It had all been a clusterfuck.

“I didn’t know Alexia was going to be there, I though that she’d washed her hands of me. I left her a note because I thought there had been things left unsaid between us and I didn’t want to leave that way.”

Your therapist nods, she doesn’t scribble this time and that makes the itchy feeling all over you die down a little bit.

“Alright, let’s move on. Your ankle injury, how’s that going?”

You look to the window, it’s a horrible day outside, just your luck when you’d chosen to walk to your therapists office on what was supposed to be a 20 degree day with sunny skies. It was the epitome of your life, high expectations, low realities.

“Well three weeks between a hospital and psychiatric facility are probably the best thing anybody can do for a injury.”

You let out a self-deprecating chuckle and your therapist does nothing but scribble.

“So you’ve been doing your rehab as advised then?”

Rehab, both kinds, is mind-bogglingly boring. You go to your therapist and she tells you all the ways you have to work to rehab your brain, she gives you medication after medication and exercise after exercise. The same happens every time you see your physio, test after test, exercise after exercise.

Your stuck in the same cycle of boredom, it makes you wonder how people ever expect you to get better when all you are doing is living in a constant state of suffering.

“The physios are happy with me, say that if I continue on the track that I am I should be back on the pitch in a few weeks, with psychological clearance.”

At the current therapeutic rate your going at, you don’t think you’ll see a psychological clearance until your 50th birthday, if you’re lucky.

“How does it feel coming back from that injury, especially considering how the decline in your physical health simulatenously resulted in the decrease in your mental health?”

You keep silent, because you know that if you talk then it’s doing to be something emotional. When you don’t know how to answer questions without exposing yourself you opt to keep quiet, it’s a obvious tell that you feel uncomfortable with the question. But giving away a tell is a whole lot better then starting an emotional downpour.

“Y/n?”

You look at your shoes. You only were allowed to start wearing one on your bad foot a week ago, and you’d forgotten how hard it was to coordinate shoes with your clothes. This morning you’d thought that they matched with your pants but now they look much darker then they truly are against the grey carpet. The mix of your navy adidas that you might have stolen from Mapi’s wardrobe a couple of months ago when she was complaining about the amount of shoes she’d been sent with your grey wide leg pants was a interesting choice but therapy wasn’t a fashion parade. The shoes don’t quite fit your feet, that’sc how you remembered they weren’t yours. When you’d taken them, it had been during some kind of team bonding night at Mapi and Ingrid’s apartment. Life had been so good, Alexia and you had been so good and for once you’d kind of felt like you were beginning to fit in.You’d never felt that way before that era of your life.

But like most things, it was now a far distant memory.

“The injury wasn’t what made me depressed.”

It’s a half truth, you suppose. Yes, the injury definitely contributed to the factors that trigger your depression, but it wasn’t a sole cause.

“I disagree.”

More scribbling on her note pad, in your opinion it must be some psychological form of torture. You’ll google it when you get home, check to make sure that this isn’t a form of manipulation to somehow convince you to say the things that she wants you to.

“If you disagree then tell me why you think that.”

It’s daring of you to say, there is nearly a 99.99 percent chance that whatever she says you are going to deny vehemently. Even if she hits it right on the nail.

“I think that you don’t give yourself enough grace for the challenges that you’ve gone through. You came to Barcelona because you were running from things, from your past. You’ve never stopped running, truly. Everytime somebody gets close enough to begin to try and worm their feet into your shoes to try and relive some of it with you, you shut them down and stop it. For most people, shoes are a means of getting to where they want, for you, you keep running because if you stop you feel like you’ll suffocate, like your feet will be wrapped up in barb wire and you’ll be stuck. For whatever reason, you don’t think anybody will ever be able to empathise with that. You think that if you ever let anybody in for long enough that they learn what you’ve been running from that they’ll try and stop you, that you’ll be faced with everything that you’ve ever struggled with. So, you keep running, and running, you’ve always been in a state of escape. With your relationship, you finally stopped running, you slowed to a jog. Then, you got injured. All of a sudden you felt like you were stuck and instead of letting yourself finally come to a stop and accepting help and complete love for once in your life, and being vulnerable. You chose to start running again, running from your friends, running from your team, running from every single good thing that you’d gotten in your life until you were so consumed with all the running that you just wanted it all to stop. But you didn’t know how to stop parts of your life without stopping other parts, so you chose to stop it all.”

You don’t know what to say for a few seconds. You’ve never had the feeling that you’ve been experiencing your whole life summed up, you don’t know how to feel about it.

You look at your psychologist, and somehow she looks back at you in a way that you somehow feel like she understands, you’ve never really felt that way about her.

It’s always felt like she’s judging you, like it’s her job to judge every single thing you say. Or at least that’s the way you’ve always seen it. It’s her job to make sure you don’t fall of the rails again, to make decisions about what you can and can’t do. It’s never been a possibility for you that maybe she’s here for a little bit more then just the business side of it all.

“Is that it? Did you come to a point where it felt like you had no other option but to just make it all stop?”

You bite your lip so hard you think it might just bleed, it’s a mission to try and stop the tears that have begun to cling to the back of your eyes at bay. You’ve never cried during a therapy session, and there is no reason why today should be different. The amount of people you’ve cried in front of is limited to a very, very short list of people and you don’t intend for your psychologist to be added.

“It would be okay if that was it. It’s okay to admit that for you at that time it felt like there was no other option but to make it all stop.”

You feel muzzled, like you can’t speak without admitting to something that you don’t want to.

“I thought it would make it all better.”

Your therapist puts down her notepad, and you feel a whole load of anxiety rush out of you.

“You thought it would make what better?”

You keep your tooth pinned to your lip, if it draws blood, it draws blood. The pain helps to take your focus off of the word vomit you can feel coming up.

“Everyone else’s lives.”

Your response is croaky, and when your therapist points to the glass of water you don’t shake your head like normal, you find yourself reaching for it and taking a few tentative sips.

“What about your life, what about making your own life better?”

You take a few more sips, because it stalls the conversation for long enough that you can think up an answer that doesn’t make it sound like you are completely insane.

“I was never really thinking about it like that.”

You look at her, eye to eye again, and there is this weird understanding between the two of you. You can feel it, whether or not it’s real, for the first time you feel like you aren’t crazy for thinking the way that you do. It’s a weird kind of safety that you’ve never had.

“For a minute, I want you to close your eyes and think about exactly what you want, whether it’s the future, it’s right now. Not football, not other people, nobody else. Just you.”

You humour her, and close your eyes.

For a few seconds, you can’t think of much. You’ve never been a future thinker, not beyond emergency plans and second options.

You think about death for a few seconds, a couple of weeks ago it was all you could think of. Permanent, irreversible disappearance. Even then though, it wasn’t what you were actually yearning for, not truly, it was just an easy solution to complex problems, problems that still haven’t been solved.

You think long and hard, and eventually you find a pleasantness.

You want to resolve things with Alexia, you know that for sure. It’s been impossible trying to navigate your relationship in your new reality. You want to get to a place where it’s less impossible. You want happiness with her, pure happiness. You also want some kind of return to football, you don’t know how. You’ve never really played football because it’s what you love, you’ve never loved your sport, it’s more been about having something that could take you places when inevitable wherever you had been was no longer an option because you’d somehow fucked it up.

You want a better relationship with yourself, you want to understand why you think the way you do and why you can’t think the same way and be the same way as everyone. You want to get past the fear you have that you will never be the same.

When you have nothing else to think about, you open your eyes, to your psychologist smiling at you.

“That’s our hour, I’m really happy to leave this here and circle back to some of it in a couple of days. The progress you’re making is definitely getting bigger and I’m happy to sign off on you getting some hours in the gym if your physios are happy with it. I’ll call the team tonight and we can work out a plan that works best.”

You’re in slight disbelief as she speaks.

“You’re sure?”

You stay seated for the sake of making sure that you haven’t somehow dreamt up what she’s just said.

“If you try and make some progress with your homework. I want you to try and talk to Mapi, a text message, coffee, something. I want you to talk to Alexia beyond her being a caregiver for you and I want you to make progress with your teammates, don’t avoid the gym if you know they are going to be there, don’t avoid team events, dip a toe in the water with them and I can guarantee you will have a very different outcome then what you think.”

Contingencies. One thing you’ve learnt about therapy is that there are always contingencies, it’s always a give and take, never one or the other.

You nod your head anyways, somehow, with her weird manipulation games you’ve managed to agree to something that the version of you from and hour ago never would have.

“I’ll try.”

Your therapist smiles and stands up, for whatever reason there is always a part of you that loves the end of your sessions but also never wants to leave.

Whether it seems like it or not, you actually do want to get better, you just don’t know what better looks like for you and that’s scary. You’ve never met the version of yourself that is ‘better’ or ‘normal’. You can’t say that you want to be your old self because there hasn’t ever been a version of yourself that feels better. You’ve always been in the slums, always been dragging yourself through the thickest mud to try and make it to the end of a day or month or year. You don’t actually want to survive like that, you want to live your life properly, or whatever non-sluggish life looks like for you.

Your still desperately trying to work that out.

Alexia is waiting in the carpark as usual, it’s always the same carpark, always the same consolation hot chocolate in her hands afterwards.

Once you’ve sat down in her passenger seat, put on your seatbelt and the takeaway cup is settled in your hands she broaches the topic of your session.

“How was it?”

There is always an awkwardness around your sessions, Alexia picks your up from every one, on the odd occasion she’ll join in if your therapist thinks it would be good. Otherwise, she spends the time sitting in her car and picking up hot drinks.

It’s infinitely awkward between the two of you, but Alexia in your opinion is mostly to blame for that.

She’d been the first person to put her hand up to be your carer, your glorified babysitter.

You know it’s a guilt thing, she feels guilty that part of your pain could have been because of her, even though you’ve insisted time and time again that it wasn’t.

“Fine.”

Therapy is a tough topic for you, mostly because you’ve never wanted to be there in the first place. You’d been tricked into going from the beginning, Alexia insisting that she was taking you to a appointment to check up on your scars when really it had been to your psychologists office. You’d yelled and screamed and insisted that she take you home, but at the end of the day if you ever wanted to play football again it was obvious you were going to have to suck it up.

You hadn’t talked to Alexia for days after that, which is funny because that was less then three weeks ago and now you’re here.

“Fine?”

You nod your head, it’s hard to find words after a normal session, but after this one it’s ever harder.

“I made some progress.”

Alexia nods, you know there are probably a hundred questions going through her head right now, but she won’t ask them. She’s too scared that if she asks them, she’ll get an answer that will terrify her. One that will restart all of the problems, even if that isn’t really how it works. Alexia doesn’t understand mental health, that’s become frighteningly obvious over the past few weeks. She doesn’t understand your struggles because she’s never experienced them. She’s never had self hatred or depression or overwhelming anxiety. It’s what makes you feel so alienated and so out of place amongst your peers. You feel like a shark amongst a sea of dolphins, like you look the same but when it comes down to it you are completely different.

“That’s good, no?”

You nod your head, disguising the grimace on your face by the mouth of the lid on your hot chocolate.

“She says I can start doing some hours in the gym.”

Alexia smiles, big and wide, like it’s her whose been given the good news.

“That’s good bebita, you’ll be on the pitch in no time.”

The pitch. It’s all Alexia cares about.

When you can be back, how she can get you to the point you can be back. Because when Alexia is injured, it’s all she cares about. What she can do to get herself back on the pitch, how she can make the rehab process faster, she thinks of every single logistic and possibility.

You want to make it back to the pitch, or you think you do. But it’s not your priority. It’s become abundantly clear that your main priority has to be yourself, figuring yourself out.

“Mhm.”

You focus your energy on counting how many bike riders pass Alexia’s car as she navigates through peak city traffic. You get to 38 before she interrupts your intense search for every person on two wheels.

“Vicky’s supposed to be coming over later, I promised I’d help her with a school project. I can go to her house instead if you’d prefer?”

Every time Alexia’s broached the topic of teammates you’ve immediately refused any contact, and your immediate reaction is to say no. but you think about what your therapist said.

“I might text Mapi and see if she wants to talk to me.”

You hear the sound of Alexia’s shock in the form of a choken sort of cough, she tries to cover it up by slapping her hand against the wheel of her car, but it doesn’t do much.

“I think that would be a really good idea, bebita, I think she would be really happy to see you.”

You don’t look at Alexia, you don’t want to see the look of perplexion or shock or whatever emotion she’s going through. You haven’t seen Mapi since the hospital, and as little as you remember from then, you remember Mapi very clearly.

She had been just as out of it as you’d been, refusing to leave your bedside but Ingrid having to do everything for her to keep her alive. Every time she visited you, she looked like she’d seen a ghost, or something worse. You weren’t sure what was worse, seeing somebody dead or seeing somebody who was hanging on the cliff of life and death and having to save their life, knowing that if action hadn’t of been taken they would be dead.

Definitely the latter.

“I’ll text her, see if she can come and pick you up before Vicky comes over?”

You nod your head, allowing yourself to focus back on counting your tally, except moving over to motorcycles this time.

You shower with the bathroom door halfway open. There are no sharps anywhere in your apartment, knives, razors, scissors, nail clippers, vegetable peelers, glasses, anything that could cause any kind of bodily harm. For now, you aren’t allowed to be left alone for longer then an hour. You sleep with your bedroom door open and Alexia sleeping in the guest room next door. You eat a set meal plan, you do two hours of rehab every single day, you live on a schedule that is so carefully planned that you have no time to yourself and yet every single moment feels lonely.

It’s a process, you’ve been told. It’s crucial to your recovery that there are measurements in place to assure your ‘success’.

Alexia knocks on your door every five minutes whilst you shower, you yell back every time.

It had become a rule after the first time you’d showered with the door open you’d made a joke about using the shower curtain to harm yourself, because what did they really expect you to be doing?

It hadn’t gone well, Alexia going silent for a few days and a very heated conversation with your psychologist about the inappropriateness of making jokes about suicide.

It was your trauma, it was your fucking story, and everyone was acting like it was their most sensitive issue.

Bathrooms are a bit of a touchy subject, you don’t shower in your ensuite bathroom anymore, you can’t. The room has permanently been blocked off, completely forgotten about.

The first thing you want to do once you’ve ‘recovered’ is leave this apartment, there are to many bad memories, it feels like you’ll never be able to recover if your stuck in the same place that you were in when it all went bad.

It’s a problem for when you can deal with the stress of packing up your whole life and moving it to somewhere.

When you shut the water off and step out of the warm stream you let yourself breathe, showers are the only real alone time you get. Everywhere else you are supervised, watched like a hawk to make sure that you don’t try anything else that could jeopardise your return to football. The reality is that Barca can’t afford to have you sit on the sideline for a whole season, they need you back, they can’t risk another slip up.

Alexia at least gives you the privacy of getting dressed in your own wardrobe, all of your wired bras have been removed, but for the most part it’s all normal.

You get dressed in another sweat suit, it’s become your new uniform over the last few weeks, no draw strings of course.

Your hair gets swept into a messy bun, it’s too much effort to deal with the brushing and braiding and tying that you would have normally gone through with a couple of weeks ago. You aren’t allowed to wear jewellery anymore so your accessories consist of pretty much nothing. You’re bare from the bones to your clothes, your soul feels as bare as the rest of your body.

You’re allowed to wear laced shoes, but you often opt not to, slip on birkenstocks or uggs are just easier. The Barcelona January chill has been getting to you recently, so you upt for your ugg boots.

Your outfit choice is the most choice you get in your day, so you try and put as little thinking into it as possible, it’s easier for you to just succumb to the reality that everything in your life is controlled by other people.

By the time you’ve finished, you’re towing very close to the time Mapi had told Alexia she’d come and meet you. You collect the things that you might need from your vanity and shove them in your pocket, before making your way out to your living room.

It’s unofficially become Alexia’s office, her laptop and books cover your dining table now. She lives out of your apartment, leaves only for training and barcelona commitments, so it’s fair to say that she’s made herself at home.

When you were living together before, it had bothered you more, having her things everywhere. Alexia is a organiser, of everything and everybody but herself. You’d spend hours telling her to pick up her shoes from random spots around the apartment floor or getting her to pick up random clothing items laying on top of pieces of furniture. This mess is different, it reflects how the situation is different. There is nothing comfortable about your predicament, it’s not the same kind of comfortable coexistence you had when you were dating Alexia.

There is a boundary between the two of you now and it makes it all so much more confusing.

Alexia isn’t just your friend or your teammate, she’s you caregiver, the person who holds you accountable, unofficially the person who is supposed to keep you from doing anything to yourself. It adds a whole layer of stress to the situation, you can’t relax around her the same way you used to.

Your relationship is never going to be the same, but parts of you wished that Alexia hadn’t taken over the burden of caring for you, because maybe the two of you could work on rebuilding yourselves as a couple instead of Alexia trying to rebuild you as a person, as if you are a broken lego set that needed to be put back together.

She spends most of her time in your living room, doesn’t push the boundary of your bedroom unless it’s needed.

She’s sat at the kitchen table, preparing herself to help with whatever project it is that Vicky needs help with.

“Shouldn’t Vicky have maybe asked one of the younger girls? You’re practically ancient now, they probably teach the kids these days history from when you were growing up.”

Whatever Alexia looks like she’s going to be helping with looks like something she’s definitely not qualified in, although Alexia’s never the person to say no.

“You’re acting like I’m a dinosaur, I’m only four years older then you.”

She rolls her eyes at you and it feels so normal, for a second you feel so much more normal. Life would be so much easier if everybody stopped treating you like a fine fucking piece of china. An eye roll here or there, a yell here or there, some kind of emotion beyond sympathy would be nice.

“I mean, in comparison to Vicky you’re pretty much from the stone ages.”

Alexia rolls her eyes again, she looks like she’s about to fight back against you but a knock at the door silences you both.

All of a sudden the little smile is gone and the air goes thick again, thick with the reminder that you can’t just exist in a bubble of nothingness were nobody else exists and you can just be free from everything.

Alexia gets up to open the door, and you let her, allowing yourself to loiter around the table and enjoy the moment for just a little bit longer. It’s that moment that might just get you through what is about to happen.

Alexia calls for you and you know it’s Mapi, you know it’s Mapi because Mapi won’t step foot in your apartment.

Ingrid had come to visit when you’d come home, along with a handful of other people, but Mapi hadn’t been one of them. Ingrid had explained that it had been to hard for her, that she’d made it to the door but couldn’t come in, and you couldn’t find it in you to blame her.

Mapi smiles at you when she sees you, it’s the first time you’ve seen her since the hospital and the both of you look very different since then.

She looks less dead, that’s the first thing you take notice of. She doesn’t look like she would blow away into a puff of smoke if a gust of wind came past. She looks good, she looks healed.

Mapi and you don’t talk, for whatever reason, you take the normal walk you would every sunday morning before it happened.

Down from your apartment, onto the main street, up to the mouth of the road, across the street and then onto the boardwalk.

It’s the main reason you chose your apartment, it’s right next to the beach. Perfect for post matchday swims and a morning walk on the beach. It used to be yours and Mapi’s pregame routine and it’s easy to fall into the rhythm of your feet moving down the sidewalk.

No words are spoken until the two of you are seated on the sand, a wordless agreement that you both come to when your toes hit the beach.

You’re both seated, your eyes looking over the horizon. Your too scared to break the silence, so you wait for Mapi.

“You look good, chica.”

You nod your head, you feel better, you must look better then how you did.

“I feel better.”

Mapi nods, when her hand reaches out to sit on top of your own on the sand, you don’t flinch away, it feels good to have a physical connection with a person who isn’t Alexia.

The silence falls over the two of you again, except this time it feels less uncomfortable. You let it linger for a little bit, before you feel in a place to speak.

“I need to say thank you. I know I said some things in the hospital, I meant it in the moment but I want to take it back now. You saved me, you did something so brave and amazing and the version of me now is so grateful that you did.”

Mapi stops your rant, before you can say something else.

“I would have done it for anybody else.”

The problem is you think, that you aren’t anybody else. It would be so much easier to give cpr to a random person on the street and never see them again, never have to be worried that you would see them again and there would be some kind of problem.

“But you did it for me. You saved me from myself, and I want you to know that I genuinely am so thankful for you. You didn’t choose the easy option and I put you in a extremely hard position. If anything had of happened to me, you would have blamed yourself and it wouldn’t have been your fault but you would have felt like it was.”

Mapi nods, and then you hear a sniffle and it makes you feel horrible.

Mapi’s crying, she’s crying and you don’t know what to do.

“You begged me to reverse it, in the hospital, you didn’t say some things. You begged me to stab you or do something. You told me it was my fault you were alive and that it was my responsibility to undo what I’d done.”

You take a deep breath, you didn’t remember it being that bad, but you remember Alexia telling you that some of the things you’d said had been unrepeatable.

“I can’t reverse what I said, in that moment I was in so much pain Maps. I actually can’t tell you how much pain i was in, all I wanted was to disappear. I’m working through not feeling that way and that starts by apologising. You did not deserve to experience what you did. You did not deserve to see what you did. You did not deserve to hear what I said to you. I am sorry. There is nothing I can say that will make any of it okay, I am sorry that for whatever reason god chose you to be the person burdened with this. I am so sorry.”

Mapi sniffles again. You knew that the possibility of no reconciliation was possible, that Mapi would reject any offer of apologies you had, you’d just really hoped it wouldn’t be like that.

“You’ve been like a little sister to me. I know you didn’t feel like we were that close, but I saw so much of me in you from when I was younger, and that was part of the reason I ended up at your apartment that night. Because I was worried, more then anybody else. I had this weird feeling, and I hated that I was right about it. You were like my little sister, and I watched as they strapped you onto a gurney and wheeled you off whilst telling me that they would try their hardest. I don’t blame you, there is no blame for something like this. But I need you to understand that I can’t just get over what I www, I’m working through it, I’m trying. My therapist has really been helping me, but it’s not going to disappear.”

You nod, Mapi and you have been through two mirroring experiences, and oddly you feel the same way about your own therapy. You’re working through it, you’re trying, but nothing that has happened is ever going to disappear, with yourself or with your peers.

“Maps, you’re allowed to experience however you want. If you never want to see me again I won’t hate you.”

Mapi shakes her head.

“I don’t know how I feel yet, I just need you to know that I understand that the you right now is different to the you from weeks ago, and you are entitled to separate yourself from that person. You don’t have to be that person if you don’t want to be. Let yourself live in the new version of you, the old version died back then.”

You bite your lip, there is beginning to become a permanent divet from your front teeth, you like it in a weird way.

“I’m trying, I’m really trying.”

Mapi nods, raising her arm from your hand, to your shoulders, bringing you into her side.

“We’ll try together then, huh? You try for me and I’ll try for you?”

You nod your head, and for the first time it doesn’t feel like you’re totally alone in the battle that you’re fighting. It’s still very much your battle, but it feels like you have somebody in your corner letting you know that you are going to be okay.

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well aware it’s not edited… if u have an issue with that such my dick xoxo

hope you enjoyed !!!! 🫶🫶🫶🫶