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#no matter who or what it was of or made for
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feral omega reader x task force 141
I've read a lot of Task Force 141 being assigned a group omega to force them to chill tf out as an all-alpha pack, BUT!-- imagine instead of taking one from a roster, Price just one day comes back from a mission with an omega he picked up from God knows where, cradling her like she's an injured cat.
The man's got tousled hair and a few scratches on his cheek from trying to wrench poor you out of a dangerous situation. Stuck under a fallen building or in an enemy prison cell, maybe--but that doesn't matter. You're coming home with him cause you've got nowhere else to go. And now you're essentially the feral wet cat adopted by these massive, powerful alphas. Cause omegas are supposed to be sweet and soft and tiny, and they just wanna protect you, but you're only tiny. And you've got a whole lot of teeth. It's both equally endearing and concerning.
Of course, the boys can handle you, though. And by handle, I mean, "Here, kitty, kitty. Please don't bite me this time. See, we're friends now!" At least that was how Soap put it, whereas Price and Ghost just sat in the same space with you until you learned that they were chill. Gaz made peace offerings with food. Soap was the last to enter your good graces.
Meanwhile Kate just tolerates you, since she doesn't know what the hell Price was thinking.
"You could've had anyone from the list, you know. A proper omega who knows how to cook and clean."
"Ah, but where's the fun in that? 'sides, she needed a home like the rest of us."
_
Bonus Thoughts:
Once you've calmed, you're still feisty--just feisty with everyone else but 141. Kate is somewhat of an extension. Not quite pack but trusted by your packmates. You eventually settle for glaring at her from across the room.
Heats? Yes. Sexual heats? Not quite. I imagine feral reader only ever being cuddly during her heats, at least at the start. But do with that what you will--it's one of the few times she initiates touch first. That, and when she's the possessive one--not the boys.
She's also definitely a bit of a kleptomaniac. She's already got one of Ghost's extra masks, Price's bandana, etc. from when they all gave her random stuff to get her used to their scents, but once she's gotten over fighting back, she wants more, more, more. Shirts and jackets start going missing. Even pillowcases. They catch on, of course, but nobody finds anything until Price opens his closet one day, and BAM--one messy hoard of a nest.
"You could've just asked."
Mildly disgruntled hissing.
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salemlunaa · 2 days
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"OH WELL, IM NOT GONNA BE HERE FOR LONG, IM GONNA SHIFT ANYWAY" girl...
let's break down why this mindset, although very common, isn't super healthy...
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I saw a post earlier where op talks about how they are un phased about all the bad things happening to them because they "won't be here for much longer”, which is so real and it honestly made me laugh so hard but, i must admit, this way of thinking can also have an unhealthy side.
I, personally, have also been victim to this mindset, and honestly i can tell you nothing good comes from thinking like this. You experience something bad, hurtful, embarrassing, slightly traumatic (which, bear in mind, you wouldn't have experienced if you hadn't procrastinated and tapped in to the void) and you tell yourself "it's okay, i'm not here for long anyway", you abandon responsibilities (that, again, wouldn't be your responsibility if you would ve stayed disciplined and tapped in) and you tell yourself "it's fine, i'm gonna shift anyway" "i'm probably gonna get into the void tonight so it doesn't matter"
NO NO and NO
of course it's good to have the mindset of knowing, knowing that it's your last day here and knowing that the void is the only outcome for you, because that type of thinking is what allows you to shift consciousness and tap in to the void, but a lot of you say that shit without even properly applying your knowledge, a lot of you are gonna remain sounding like broken records, repeating this shit for years, i swear it will be 2028 and yall will still be saying "it's okay i won't be here for long", "im gonna shift anyway"
don't wait for shit to hit the fan for you to get serious about your desires, don't wait for your circumstances to get horrible for you to finally fix up and actually do something. If you really knew you were a god, you wouldn't be here reading this, you would be as pretty as you wanna be, and as rich and happy as you wanna be enjoying your dream life. Don't fall into a comfortable routine with your current reality, (which is really just your old story) because it's not worth it. I even see you guys making and scripting for a "better current reality" (another excuse to remain comfortable with procrastination), when you could have your DREAM life, you guys get swept up in your old story, just because it can be "alright" sometimes. And then when something bad happens, you repeat the same phrase "oh well, i'm gonna shift anyway", and then when things go back to being "alright", you get comfortable again, further procrastinating, when you could have ANYTHING. Who cares about your "alright", "mediocre" reality when you could have the best and more!!
like girl, don't stay comfortable until you're forced to get uncomfortable with a negative change in circumstances. You should be determined to shift consciousness ALL THE TIME, not just when things get tough or responsibilities pile up. Because again, if you had that consistent mindset you wouldn't be here.
get uncomfortable with what you have to achieve what you want, so that all you want becomes all you have
GET UNCOMFORTABLE NOW SO YOU CAN LIVE COMFORTABLY FOR ETERNITY, DONT WAIT FOR SHIT TO HIT THE FAN ᥫ᭡💋
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ellecdc · 1 day
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oh my god. I love your slytherin reader x marauders!!!! your writing is amazing!!!! could you do like a part three I guess? but like of later in their relationship and the reader has this little first year friend (who she is forced to tutor but she actually likes him but won't admit it) and he reminds her of the boys and the boy just like brings her flowers and chocolates and stuff and the boys see it and James gets all jealous and Sirius is just like "nah just watch mate" and expect the reader to get all annoyed but she doesn't she just doesn't say anything (because she secretly finds the boy sweet and doesn't wanna be mean to the tiny marauder like man) so then they are all in disbelief and pouty
sorry that was very long
hehe...hehehe.....this request is from March 14th 🫢 thank youuuuu for the prompt and sorry for the huge wait..... [also, let this perhaps let people know that I do have old requests saved!]
poly!marauders x fiesty!reader who has an admirer [1.2k words]
p1 // p2 // p3
CW: fem!reader, reader is feisty, Sirius is upset she's not feistier
“I’m not sure if you boys were aware,” Marlene drawled as she plopped herself onto an empty wingback chair in the Gryffindor common room, “but there’s some ickle little first year making moves on your girl.”
Her comment was met by a snort from James, a bark of laughter from Sirius, and an eye roll from Remus. 
“Thoughts and prayers to the first year, then.” James commented, never looking up from the rubik’s cube he was fiddling with as his back rested against Sirius’ folded legs. 
“I don’t know.” Marlene sing-songed. “He seems pretty sweet on her.” 
“Please.” Sirius scoffed. “Our darling girl is the least approachable person in Hogwarts, I hardly believe there’s a wix bold enough to solicit her, let alone a puny little first year.”
“He didn’t have to solicit her, she’s tutoring him.” 
“Honestly, Marls, I’ve never been less concerned about anything in my entire life.” James admitted.
“Could be interesting to watch, yeah?” Sirius offered with a mischievous wink, nudging James with his knee. 
Remus rolled his eyes at his boyfriend, though he did close his book with a mischievous smirk. “Someone should be there to save him from our little viper.” 
“Don’t say I didn’t warn ya!” Marlene laughed as she waved them off, not bothering to hide her devious grin. 
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It didn’t take long for the boys to find you, seeing as you were haunting what you had early on in your schooling dubbed the ‘most superior table’ in the library. You’d told them what made it so, but James had been paying more attention to the way your lips were moving and less on the actual words that were leaving them. 
“Oh Merlin, the poor sod has no clue.” Sirius all but giggled as they crouched behind one of the aisles of books surrounding your table. 
“Not terrible.” They heard you say as you looked over his work, and based on the boy's beaming smile one would assume you’d given him high praise.  “But you’re getting ahead of yourself and not showing your work.”
“Does showing my work matter if the answers are right?” The kid asked, and James couldn’t blame the kid - he’d had many-a-conversations along the same lines over the years. 
You simply lifted his parchment and walloped him over the head for it. “Yes, showing your work matters; you will lose marks if you don’t.”
“Well, I wouldn’t want to let you down.” The kid said solemnly, and James’ heart momentarily melted before he realised that was his darling angel that he was putting the moves on. 
He waited for you to groan and call him a rotten toerag, but you simply shook your head and instructed him to do the next question, making sure to show his work this time. 
“Get a load of this kid; she’s gotta be just about ready to hex him.” Sirius murmured. 
“I’m surprised she hasn’t, honestly.” James replied, causing Remus to snicker.
“The two of you have been hexed for less.”
The three were interrupted when the kid let out a theatrical gasp and dropped his quill. “I can’t believe I almost forgot!” He screeched before ripping open his book bag.
After far too long spent searching the inside of his bookbag, the kid withdrew a slightly crumpled rose, letting out a disappointed groan when he saw the state of it. “My astronomy textbook must’ve crushed it.”
“Why do you have a rose in your bag?” You deadpanned, and the kid was right back to beaming again.
“I brought it for you, of course. I picked the prettiest one for the prettiest girl.”
This was it, this was the moment they were here for; Sirius watched eagerly as Remus grimaced, each equally anxious for your no doubt cantankerous response. 
But it never came.
You simply let out a sound bordering a breath, a sigh, and a laugh as you gingerly took the wilted rose between two fingers. 
“Very thoughtful. Please get back to your homework.” Was all you offered him, but the kid seemed no less pleased as he picked up his quill and dutifully returned to his work. 
“What in the buggering fuck?” Sirius hissed, earning him an elbow in the ribs from Remus, but it was too late.
“Can I help you boys?” You drawled, though you never actually looked behind you where your three boyfriends were still hiding. 
“Yes, you can help me.” Sirius barked, storming out from behind the stacks followed closely by James and less closely by Remus who had the grace to look a little shamefaced for his spying. “You can help me understand what the hells all this is!”
“This is called tutoring and studying, Sirius, if you spent any time in a library, it might be more familiar to you.” You offered simply, turning a glare in Remus’ direction when he snorted. 
“Okay, swot, what I mean is why are you hear letting this little dugbog-”
“Sirius!” You chided quickly.
“Oh my gods! And you’re defending him!” Sirius continued shrilly, earning him various shushings from surrounding students. 
James couldn’t help but notice you roll your eyes in exasperation, but he also noticed the faintest hints of a smile dancing on your lips. 
“You’ve done well, Cameron; keep practising, and for the love of Merlin make sure you show your work next time or so help me gods…”
“Yes ma’am!” Cameron replied as he packed up his bag. “See you next week?”
“Just as we always have.” You drawled in a bored tone, though you offered him a smirk as he hustled out of the library. 
“I can’t believe you!” Sirius huffed as he took Cameron’s now vacated seat. 
“Angel…what is the meaning of all this?” James asked earnestly, causing Remus to snort as he had the decency to press a kiss to your hair in greeting. 
“If we’d have known you were meeting with new suitors, dove, we would have insisted on accompanying you to your tutoring sessions.”
“Oh please.” You dismissed. “He’s just a kid.”
“Uhm, and?” Sirius pouted.
“Sweetheart, we’ve seen you jinx a kid for sneezing too closely to you.” Remus reminded you, and your face darkened.
“Germ infested little freaks.”
“There’s our girl.” Sirius exclaimed. “I can’t believe you let him get away with any of that!” 
“He’s harmless.”
“He’s a flirt.” Sirius corrected.
“He’s you.” You shot back, and the three boys all looked at you with various levels of bemusement. 
“I beg your pardon?” James finally asked, and you shook your head as you began packing up your own bag. 
“He’s like a miniature version of the three of you; following me around and being abhorrently affectionate.”
“Well, hey, I think we’re, like, an appropriate amount of affectionate.” James tried. 
“No, it's sort of abhorrent sometimes.” Remus quickly agreed. 
“Babe…” Sirius cooed, causing Remus and James to grimace. “Are you going soft on us!?” 
Your eyes immediately darkened as you glowered at him, and if Sirius’ sudden flinch and the following yelp proved anything, you aimed a tame stinging jinx at him. 
“On the kid? Maybe.” You responded primly. “On the three of you? Jury’s still out.”
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adispit · 2 days
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Hiyaaa can I ask for Ayato from Genshin with a kitsune reader who steals pieces of his clothing as a secret crush on him but one day Ayato catches them and punishes them.
A Punishment ?
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Ayato x kitsune! bttm male reader
Content warnings: spanking, anal tongue fucking (receiving), overstimulation, rough sex, creampie , slight predator prey dynamic (if you squint), slight dubcon because reader wasn’t really into the spanking at the start
Note: This fic has been marinating in my inbox for 2 weeks so I hope you enjoy! Also I haven’t played Genshin in a year so this might be a tad bit ooc 😭. Enjoy!
You had always been someone in the background, shadowed and sheltered under the protection of your sister, Guuji Yaemiko. Few to none knew of your actual existence as centuries passed, except for the Raiden Shogun and the clans themselves. Her influence stretched far, wrapping around you like a protective veil.
The Shrine was your haven, but also your cage. Every decision, every move you made, was watched, controlled. It was always for your safety, she would say. The sister who would tease and always play you like a fiddle to her silly whims became firm and unmovable when it came to exploring beyond the Inazuman city. You had been sheltered from the harsh realities of the world, never given the freedom to truly explore it. Yet, that defiant streak within you had only grown stronger. You didn’t want protection. You wanted to live.
However, what your sister could not shield you from was unforeseen. A little crush you had harboured for the Yashiro Commissioner himself, Kamisato Ayato. A man who carried himself with grace and power — a man who like your sister, commanded respect wherever he went. The very man that made the Kamisato name arise from its ashes and make it the prestigious clan today. As much as you hated to admit it, you were nothing better than those maidens who chased after him relentlessly for marriage offers. It stung to think of yourself in that way, to admit that you were drawn to him with the same intensity that they were.
It wasn’t just his power or his elegance. It was the way he moved with a grace that seemed almost otherworldly, the sharpness in his gaze that made you feel seen even when you wished to remain hidden. You were drawn to him with a fascination that bordered on obsession, an allure that you couldn’t shake off no matter how hard you tried. Due of your crush, you found yourself resorting to a silly yet strangely satisfying ritual—stealing Ayato’s clothes. It was an odd way to cope with the intense feelings you harbored for him, but it was the only outlet you could manage. Each stolen item, whether a glove, a ribbon, or a sash, became a cherished possession, a physical connection to him that you could hold onto.
Each piece of clothing was a wishful reminder of him—a way to keep a part of him close, even if you could never have him completely. You would fold his garments carefully, press them to your face, and imagine the moments he had worn them, his scent of sandalwood and rain with the lingering warmth, It was your own secret fantasy. It was harmless really. A secret way of indulging in the hopeless crush you’d harbored for the head of the Kamisato clan.
However, tonight, the air felt different—charged with something you couldn’t quite place. Strangely, there weren’t any guards present that were on patrol. The estate was quiet. A little too quiet.
Still, you pressed on.
The thought of what you were about to do made your fox ears twitch in excitement. Ayato’s chambers were silent as you nudged the door open, the dim light of a single candle casting long shadows over the room.
You crept inside, eyes scanning for something to take. His haori lay draped neatly over a chair, and without hesitation, you reached for it. The silk fabric slipped through your fingers, smooth and cool to the touch. Your breath caught in your throat as you brought it close, imagining, just for a moment, what it would feel like to be wrapped in it—surrounded by him. The thought made your cheeks warm, but you pushed it away, carefully folding the haori over your arm.
It was a ridiculous thought, you knew that.
You allowed yourself a small smile. Another successful heist, another piece of him to add to your collection. You moved toward the door, your escape clear and easy.
But as you turned, something stopped you.
A faint rustle. Barely a sound, but enough to make your ears twitch with alert. You froze, eyes darting toward the corner of the room. Nothing.
You waited, heart racing in your chest, every instinct telling you to bolt but curiosity kept you rooted in place. Slowly, you scanned the room again, your gaze lingering on the bed. Your breath caught in your throat as your eyes landed on a figure sitting in the shadows.
Ayato.
He was leaning casually against the headboard of his bed, his body bathed in the soft glow of moonlight. His lavender eyes, sharp and calculating, met yours with a calm intensity. Those eyes were striking—like shards of amethyst, reflecting the light in a way that made them almost glow. They watched you with a calm amusement, though the glint in them suggested he was far more aware of the situation than you were.
Your heart raced as you took in his appearance. His long, pale blue hair was neatly tied back, save for a few loose strands that framed his angular face. The moonlight accentuated his porcelain skin, making him look almost ethereal, like something out of a dream. Yet there was nothing soft about the way he held himself—he stood with a quiet strength, the grace of a nobleman who knew his power.
“You’ve been busy, haven’t you?” His voice was smooth, almost melodic, but there was an edge to it. It sent a shiver down your spine.
You swallowed hard, clutching the haori tightly. Ayato’s tall, lean frame was still relaxed, but every movement he made was deliberate. His long fingers tapped rhythmically on the edge of the bed as he spoke, drawing attention to his hands—hands that could command armies or, in this case, one mischievous kitsune.
“I… I didn’t mean—”
Ayato’s lips curled into a faint smirk, revealing a glimpse of his sharp wit. “Didn’t mean to what?” He interrupted, stepping forward, the soft rustle of his clothing barely audible. “You seem to have a habit of taking things that don’t belong to you,” he murmured, his voice low, smooth, and far too calm.
“Lord Ayato,” You squeaked softly, ears flattening as you clutched the fabric in your hands. He approached, slowly, the air between you charged with something you couldn’t name. “What were you planning to do with this, hm?” He gestured toward the ribbon in your hand, his voice soft but laced with authority. “Stealing from me, Yae Miko’s brother no less… What would she say?”
You bristled at the mention of your sister, but there was no escape now. “I just wanted—”
“To see if I’d notice?” Ayato finished for you, his amusement deepening as he tilted his head slightly. His eyes never left yours as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your cheek. Up close, you could see the slight tension in his jaw, the quiet authority he carried in every word.
His hand reached out, brushing lightly against the fabric of the haori. “I noticed,” he whispered, his voice sending a thrill down your spine. His fingers grazed yours, cool to the touch yet searing with the unspoken threat of control.
Ayato’s smile was small but devastatingly confident. “But there’s a price to pay for stealing from the Yashiro Commissioner.”
Your heart raced as he stepped even closer, the close proximity making your tail swish back and forth with nervousness and anticipation. “And I think you know what that means.”
“Get on your knees,” he commanded, his voice low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine. You hesitated for just a moment, but the look in his eyes—dark, intense, and utterly unyielding—was enough to make you comply. Your legs gave way almost instinctively as you dropped to your knees, your heart pounding in your chest. The rush of adrenaline coursing through you drowned out everything except the sound of your own breathing, loud and uneven in your ears.
He took another step, his movements so fluid that his bare feet made no sound on the hardwood floor, as though he was one with the shadows. You could feel the heat radiating from him even before he stood directly in front of you, the faint scent of sandalwood and rain lingering in the air—intoxicating and impossible to ignore.
A slow, deliberate smirk tugged at the corners of his lips—a smirk that sent a thrill of both fear and excitement rushing through your body. The expression was playful, yet there was something undeniably dangerous in it, like he was silently toying with you, fully aware of the power he held over you. Up close, you could see the cool, detached amusement in his eyes—like a predator toying with prey, knowing full well you were already caught in his web.
"Take off your clothes," he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument. You hesitated again, but the silent disapproving look in his eyes was enough to make you move. You stood up slowly, your hands trembling as you began to undress. Reluctantly, your robes slipped off, leaving you stark naked and cold, shivering in the cold night air. Truth to be told, you were a virgin, never having the chance to even have a sexual outlet besides from fingering yourself and masturbating on rare occasions when your sister wasn’t at the shrine. Even with your crush on Ayato, you were rather reluctant and admittedly, a tad bit fearful.
He watched you, his expression unreadable, but the fire in his piercing eyes made your skin tingle with anticipation. That calm, calculating gaze burned with something primal even though his face remained impassive. When you were done, he simply gestured for you to turn around. You hesitated briefly, but his silent command left no room for question.
Your heart pounded as you moved, his authoritative presence looming behind you. “Hands on the bed,” he demanded, his voice brushing dangerously close to your ear. The soft, commanding tone sent an involuntary shiver down your spine, making you feel small beneath him.
You obeyed, placing your palms flat against the cool surface of the futon. The fabric felt grounding under your trembling fingers. You could hear him moving, the quiet rustle of his robes as he adjusted himself, his body heat brushing ever closer. The air between you felt electric, charged with tension, until—
Without warning, the first blow landed hard across your ass. The sharp, stinging pain rippled through you like a wave. You gasped, your body jerking forward from the sudden impact, your tail instinctively going taut. The burning sensation lingered, intensifying with every passing second, until all you could do was grip the sheets, struggling to steady yourself against the onslaught.
“Ayato, I don’t think I want to — Ah!”
He wasn’t done.
The second blow came even harder, the sharp impact sending a jolt of pain through your body. This time, you couldn’t suppress the cry that escaped your lips, the force of it stealing the breath from your lungs. You bit down hard on your lip, the metallic taste of blood faint on your tongue as you fought back the tears threatening to spill over.
“Count,” he ordered, his voice dangerously calm. “And call me Sir. Stay still,” he added, the warning in his tone unmistakable, “Or this will be even worse.”
You could feel the power in his command, the unspoken promise that he wouldn’t tolerate disobedience.
“Two, Sir,” you whispered, your voice trembling, doing your best to remain still despite the lingering sting.
The next few blows came in quick succession, each one more painful than the last. Your ass was on fire, the pain mingling with the arousal that was building inside you. You could feel yourself getting hard, your body betraying you as it responded to the punishment. The next few blows came in quick succession, each one landing harder than the last. Your skin burned, a searing pain spreading across your ass with every strike, and it felt like your entire body was on fire.
Tears slipped down your cheeks, and no matter how hard you fought them back, they kept coming, blurring your vision. You mutely counted the blows between occasional cries of pain and ragged gasps for air. The room spun around you, the sensation too much, too fast.
Each smack to the ass only intensified your horror at your arousal and your arousal. You could feel your dick twitching and getting stiffer as the pain resonated throughout your body. Precum was beginning to pool beneath your cock as the electric sting that the pain brought felt even more pleasurable than the last.
“T-ten,” you whispered shakily, your hands gripping the sheets as you struggled to keep from collapsing under the pressure. Finally, he paused, giving you a moment of respite to catch your breath. Your chest heaved as you struggled to catch your breath, the tension in your body slowly unwinding as the sting of the blows lingered. Your skin was still ablaze with the aftermath.
You could feel his hand resting lightly on your back, his fingers brushing against your skin in stark contrast to the harshness of his earlier actions. The touch was almost tender, a strange gentleness that sent a confusing wave of emotions through you.
Suddenly, with a swift motion, you found yourself turned around, now facing him. Despite the harsh punishment you had endured, you felt your heart race and then falter as the close proximity of Ayato became overwhelming. Your traitorous tail, betraying your true feelings, swished involuntarily with a mix of excitement and nervousness.
However that did not distract him from the hard on you sported, much to your embarrassment. His slender hand crept down your body and dwarfed your cock. He rhythmically rubbed your length, making you shudder and feel the sparks and the familiar hum of pleasure beginning to ignite.
“Yes,” you gasped as Ayato purposefully tightened his grip around your sensitive tip, never stopping his pace, “Oh—fuck—” as that mischievous hand closed around you, there was a playful air about Ayato as he let out a soft melodic laugh while mumbling something under his breath and then shifting his grip.
The next slide up was a tight, demanding fist. You threw your head back.
“Does that feel good, (Name)?” There was an amused lilt in his voice that made you flush head to toe.
The rush of blood and desire to a point low in your stomach was overwhelming. The movement was growing slicker, better , so tempting to lean fully into. You had never been this turned on.
“I don’t know, ” you cried through a strangled whine, you felt Ayato’s laughter directly through your skin, and somehow that made him suddenly very close.
There was something so exciting and arousing about it the way the man you had dreamt about, the very Yashiro Commissioner, himself was helping pleasure you. The very thought had you moaning, once, and falling slack like a puppet with cut strings. 
You were gently pushed back onto your back against the soft surface of the futon with both your legs are hoisted up, hanging against Ayato’s shoulders. Your body folded in half as you saw his head buried in your thighs, goosebumps rising on your skin as your tail hairs brushed against his chin.
“Ayato?!” You struggled for the commissioner to release his grasp on your legs, but to no avail, as he tightened his grip to hold you still. You flushed red in embarrassment, the thought of Ayato seeing everything too much to bear. 
And then you felt something warm and slimy breach past the ring of muscles, causing you to yelp in surprise.
Holy fuck. Was Ayato actually doing what you thought he was? 
You shuddered as waves of pleasure traveled up to your core. Gritting your teeth to try and contain the shameful moans from escaping you, afraid to realise that this was all a dream, afraid that Ayato would be turned off by you.
“Hnnn…Ayato….” You groaned, eyes clenching shut and face wrinkled as you bit back on a pathetic whine. All of a sudden, you jolted.
Ayato’s tongue had prodded at something deep inside you that made you melt into a puddle of arousal and shame. You unconsciously gripped his head tight with your thighs, messing up his perfect tidied hair. He had found your prostrate. And then he stopped, a gossamer thread of saliva connecting his lips to your hole as he retreated.
You couldn’t help but notice the shy mole that hid beneath his spit shiny lips — he was absolutely ethereal even with his messy and tousled hair. An unnatural pink flush decorated his fair and porcelain face and you realised that he was aroused.
By you.
The thick tension hung in the air as he silently gazed at you, the hunger in his amethyst eyes almost engulfing you on the spot like he was a man gone wild.
Shadows danced on his face as he meticulously removed his robes, still carrying himself with the same grace and dignity as if the air wasn’t imbued with the electric undercurrent of arousal and the fact that he had just tongue fucked you. He stood above you, full mast and you felt your breath get stolen away from you.
Ayato had a picture perfect physique, lean, almost like a statue carved out and had come to life. Your eyes immediately dove down to his abdomen, to be greeted with his cock, hard, already pressing against your rim, twitching invitingly. Both hands gripping your waist as he positioned himself.
“We will not stop now, (Name). Your pleas and cries will be unheard. This is a punishment.” He stared at you with an unyielding gaze, one that you were ready to challenge. “This is the lesson you must learn, the price of your rebellion,” he concluded. “One I accept.” You let out a hoarse giggle. His eyes darkened almost simultaneously as what seemed like another amused smile tugged at his lips before he let his actions speak for himself.
He did not give any mercy. Ruthlessly driving into your hips with a force like he wanted to merge into you, you felt his girth stretch and force your walls to mould into its shape. “Huh...?” Your mind went blank with pleasure, and for a while you couldn’t comprehend what happened. Your insides clenched down hard on his cock as slaps of skin punctuated the silent night air.
“Ah! Ggh- Aah! W-wait! Ungh —!” You slurred inaudibly as you felt your body rock to his merciless pace, your cock dribbling endless pre-cum uncontrollably. He promised your pleas and cries would be unheard and he served his promise, not even a single word could leave your raw throat. Only guttural whines and moans would escape your bitten lips as you fell into the throes of pleasure.
Alas, decisions were made and you could not regret what you said. Here you were, getting your deserved punishment in the form of a ruthless fucking.
Everything was too hot, too sticky and hummed with the sound of distant sobs, you groggily thought. Oh. Those were from you. Your skin was sticky with the sheen of sweat and cum and the futon beneath you was drenched. You felt unusually full, like something sloshing in your tummy. Your hole felt sore. And he wasn’t done. But you would never admit defeat….was the last thought that echoed in your muddled mind as you gave into the embrace of sleep.
“(Name)? Learnt your lesson now? Oh. The silly thief has admitted defeat.” He pushed back his sweat soaked hair as he glanced upon your slumbering form. Letting out a grunt, he pulled out of your red, swollen hole as semen immediately began dripping out your gaping rim. Humming an exasperated sigh, a fond expression appeared on his face as his lavender eyes crinkled into crescents as he gently ruffled your hair.
The little kitsune had fallen into his trap.
Sometime ago, Ayato had noticed his belongings going missing. If he hadn’t, he wouldn’t deserve the title of Yashiro Commissioner. The thief clearly had no ill intent, but it became particularly vexing when he realized that the pair of gloves Ayaka had gifted him had mysteriously disappeared as well.
Then one day, by sheer coincidence, he noticed the little kitsune who had caught his eye more than once, wearing a familiar ribbon in their hair— his ribbon. And on their hands, the very gloves he had been missing. Amusement flickered in his usually composed gaze as everything clicked into place.
It seemed someone had developed quite the habit. But Ayato wasn’t the type to let such things go unaddressed. Oh no, if this little fox thought they could slip away unnoticed, they were sorely mistaken. Someone was in need of a lesson, and he would be more than happy to provide it.
So he plotted.
note: ajskskskk, I’m finally done 🙏 my first ask so I hope this was done well!
Reblogs are appreciated 🧑‍🍳
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sxcretricciardo · 2 days
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not the same
The sun is shining brightly over the go-karting track, a perfect day for racing. The smell of burning rubber, the distant hum of engines revving, and the lively chatter of parents fill the air. You stand beside Max, watching your little boy, Leo, zip around the track with a focused expression that’s eerily similar to Max’s when he's behind the wheel. Leo's been karting since he could walk, and every time he hits the track, it’s like watching a younger version of Max, pure talent and determination radiating from him.
Max is beaming, pride visible in his eyes as he watches Leo expertly navigate the course. His hand rests on the small of your back, and you lean into him, feeling the excitement of the race. But today isn’t just any day. Jos, Max’s father, has come to watch his grandson for the first time. It’s a big moment, both for Leo and for Max, who has a complicated history with his dad.
The final lap is underway, and Leo is in second place. You can see how hard he’s pushing, how badly he wants that win. His little hands are gripping the steering wheel tightly, his helmet bobbing as he leans into each curve. But the kid in first place has just a little more speed, and as they cross the finish line, Leo’s kart comes in second.
You’re about to cheer for Leo anyway—second place is still amazing for a four-year-old—but before you can, you notice the tension stiffening Max beside you. His jaw clenches, and his eyes narrow. Jos is walking over to Leo’s kart, and you can feel the unease rolling off Max in waves.
Leo pulls off his helmet, his brown curls damp with sweat, and looks up at his grandfather, expecting praise or at least a smile. But Jos doesn’t offer either. Instead, his face is hard, disappointed.
“What happened out there?” Jos says, his voice low and sharp, just loud enough for Leo to hear.
Leo’s small face falls, his bright eyes clouding with confusion. He’s only four, too young to understand the weight behind the words, but he knows enough to feel the sting.
“I—I tried, Grandpa…” Leo stammers, looking down at his feet, his tiny hands fiddling nervously with his gloves. “I tried really hard…”
“You tried? That’s not good enough,” Jos snaps. “Your father wouldn’t settle for second place at your age. You need to push harder, be better.”
You feel your heart twist as Leo’s shoulders slump, his little body sinking under the weight of his grandfather’s disappointment. Before you can step in, Max is already there, his tall frame looming over his father protectively.
“Dad,” Max’s voice is low and dangerous, “back off.”
Jos straightens, his eyes narrowing as he looks at Max. “He needs to learn. You didn’t get to where you are by accepting second place, Max.”
“This isn’t about me, and it sure as hell isn’t about you,” Max says, stepping closer to his father, his hand on Leo’s shoulder now. “He’s *four*. He’s doing amazing, and I’m proud of him. You don’t get to tear him down the way you did with me.”
Leo looks up at Max, his big blue eyes—so much like his father’s—filled with uncertainty. “Daddy, I—”
Max kneels down in front of Leo, cutting off his words gently. “You did great today, Leo. You were fast, you were smart, and I’m so proud of you. It doesn’t matter if you came in second. What matters is that you gave it everything.”
Leo’s face brightens slightly, reassured by Max’s words. But Jos isn’t done.
“You’re too soft on him, Max. He needs to learn how to win, not just be content with second place. If you keep coddling him—”
“I’m not coddling him,” Max snaps, standing up again to face his father. His voice is colder now, angrier. “I’m teaching him that it’s okay to enjoy racing, that he doesn’t have to be perfect every time. He’s not me, Dad. And I won’t let you do to him what you did to me.”
Jos glares at Max, his expression hardening. “I made you a champion.”
“No,” Max says quietly, but with steel in his voice. “You made me scared of failing. I won’t let Leo feel that. He’s going to race because he loves it, not because he’s afraid of disappointing you.”
The tension between father and son crackles in the air, the years of unresolved resentment bubbling up to the surface. You step forward, placing a hand on Max’s arm, grounding him. You know how much it took for him to confront Jos like this, how deep those scars run.
Jos opens his mouth to argue, but then he looks at Leo, who’s clinging to Max’s leg, wide-eyed and unsure. Something shifts in Jos’s expression, a flicker of regret maybe, but it’s quickly masked by his usual stern demeanor.
“This is a mistake,” Jos mutters, shaking his head before turning away and walking off without another word.
Max lets out a long breath, running a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. But when he looks down at Leo, his expression softens immediately. He crouches down again, pulling Leo into a hug.
“You did awesome today, buddy. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, okay?”
Leo nods against his father’s chest, his small arms wrapping tightly around Max. “Okay, Daddy. I just want to be fast like you.”
Max chuckles softly, pressing a kiss to the top of Leo’s head. “You already are, kiddo.”
You kneel beside them, wrapping your arms around both of them, feeling the warmth and love in the moment, despite the lingering tension from Jos’s words.
Max meets your eyes over Leo’s head, and you can see the mixture of emotions there—anger, protectiveness, but most of all, a deep love for the family he’s built with you.
“He’s not going to grow up the way I did,” Max says softly, more to himself than to you, but you nod in agreement, squeezing his hand. “He’s going to grow up knowing he’s enough, no matter what.”
And in that moment, surrounded by the sound of engines still roaring on the track, you know that Max is right. Your little boy is loved, and that’s what matters most.
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alien-magnolia · 2 days
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Smell
Tw: lots of SMUT little plot, dom!coded Logan and sub-coded/fem!reader, SIZEknk, primal!, ovulation and Logan’s sense of smell, possessive Logan, breeding!knk, Logan is rough!!
18+ MDNI
A/n: I want him so bad. Pls reblog if you like <3 xoxo, Liz
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It’s been a long day for the both of you. Charles had wanted the two of you to tag along on a mission to Eastern Europe, bringing a supposedly dangerous mutant who planned to wreak havoc back to the mansion. It was a large effort bringing him back, yet you all did it.
It was your favorite moment of the day, as if right now. You and Logan got to retire to your shared quarters, and relax for a good day or more. You loved spending time with him, especially after a long day — when both of your frustrations needed to be let out.
He unlocks the door, lighting a cigar as he steps through the threshold. Your smaller arms snake around his broad back, pressing gentle kissed into his flannel. “What’s the matter, huh, sweetheart?,” he turns to you, flicking the cigar to the side of his mouth with his tongue. “Missed you, is all. Been a hard day, Lo. Let’s unwind,” you softly whisper, your hands coming up to touch his beard, the one you loved so much: (especially when the scruff of it brushed your soaking cunt <3..)
He smiles, large hands cup your smaller face, as he brings you closer for a forehead kiss. He pauses momentarily to smell the nape of your neck. “Missed me after spending the day with me, huh, kid?,” a knowing smirk creeps across his face. You nod your head vigorously. “Or are you jus’ ovulating?,” the question makes itself very known in the room.
Your cheeks heat up as you start to blush. He cocks his head, chuckling. “I know you well, sweetheart,” he tells you, looking over the pleading gaze you had on him as of now. “Can smell you, you know. You always smell so fuckin’ good when you’re ovulating,” he adds, eyes darker than they were before. You blush under his hard gaze.
“Doesn’t mean I’m not gonna give you what ya’ need, though,” his gruff voice adds, sending shivers down your spine.
“What do I need, Lo?,” you ask, your small arms wrapping themselves around his broad, thick, muscular shoulders, your pretty and perky tits pressing up against his chest. He looks down at your face, then, at your tits, his hands move themselves from your face to your waist, his grip ironclad.
“You need my cock. S’alright, you just do what I say now, yeah?,” he asks, and you nod, oh so vigorously. His lips attack yours, as the two of them dance together, your lipgloss on his rough, slightly chapped — but soft lips. His beard tickled your soft cheeks, and you pressed yourself into him as tight as imaginable.
He pauses for a moment to inhale your scent again. “Fuck. You smell so sweet when you’re ovulating, you know that, yeah? Like it’s poison. That’s what you fuckin’ do to me,” he adds, almost snarling. “Wanna rile you up, Lo. Wanna be good for you, want you to hurt me,” you tell him, not even recognizing where all this was coming from. What was wrong with you? You were completely pliant for a man.
You wanted to be used by him. To feel ALL of his strength in each and EVERY possible way. You knew his abilities, you knew how animalistic he was when riled up. You wanted that Logan tonight. You’d let him scar you with his claws if he would: he would never, of course. He was insistently protective of you. That and your hormones: is what drove you to this state tonight.
You feel his hard on through his jeans , it's almost as if it was made of metal: (in a way it was.) His lips meet yours, pushing against you in a way that made your cunt throb, your soft lips and his rough ones danced together, as if glued. You loved how rough his beard felt on your face, and his neck smelled faintly of cigars. You hear a few grunts from him, his meaty hands coming up to grope and knead at your soft body.
His teeth clash against yours, the both of you were gravitating towards each other by some kind of invisible string or magnet. Your hands feel his heart, fast, through his wide chest. You loved that you never had to take off his shirt in moments like these. He never wore one. Around you, anyway.
You brush your pastel painted nails through his chest hair; coming up to smell it a little, rub your face against it. You wanted ALL of him; not only his cock.
He chuckles as you rub against his chest. “Aww. Goin’ all pathetic f’me, kid? Didn’t even start with you. Fuck.,” he growls, and pins you down onto the bed, your wrists above your head. A hard knee between your legs is used to spread them apart. Your arms — are still pinned to the bed, and his grip on your wrists is ironclad.
He’s on top of you, his hairy chest bearing a weight down on you, his soft lips nipping at your neck, at your tits, your soft belly. His beard tickles when he kisses down your stomach, lower, lower… he gets to your thighs, pressing a sweet and slobbery kiss to them, and starts attacking your nub, like it’s a hard candy, and he can’t get enough.
“Lo!! Lo!! You scream out, trying to get away from him. It was too much, you couldn’t!! You feel some of his claws come out, starting to pierce your thighs just a bit. You pull back, looking at him. He stares back, his gaze intense. “You want me to stop, baby?,” he asks, claws resting on your thighs. “No, no. I like it.,” you shamefully admit, your stomach dropping as he gazed at you, taking in your body as if it were a work of art.
He continues working you over, his tongue gentle yet powerful, your thighs getting red because of his abrasive beard. You feel your orgasm coming on, as a storm, and you try to pull away from him to lessen the intensity. His claws graze your soft skin as his iron grip pulls you right back. “Where ya think you going honey? Daddy’s not done here,” with that, his calloused hand slaps your roughed up cunt. You yelp, and he emits a burly, growled sort of chuckle. He goes back to slurping up your fluids like there is nothing left. You gush into his mouth, his beard now wet with your fluids.
He flips you over, his face pressing into your neck. “Fuck, so sweet…,” his heavily hooded eyes glaze over your face and neck, before taking a small bite into your jugular. He was your predator. You were under him, his prey, his for the taking, his to use.
Without another word, his mouth breathing hot and heavy near your panting face, your soft skin against his rough beard, his hands gripped you in place as he slid in. Bred you. Not a word. His hands began to hold you up by your neck, as if you were some kind of animal. His large heaving chest pressed into yours, his thick, pulsing cock stretched you so deliciously that it made your vision start to go.
“There you go, sweetheart. Take it. Fuck,” he growled, hands pinching and holding your soft skin. All his prey did was mutter and moan, and Logan, a man of few words, was satisfied. He had his girl under him, pliant, ready to be bred. And he did breed her. Hours and hours on end.
By the time Logan was done with you, you were both soaked in each other: literally and figureatively. He gently laid you on your back. “Lo,” you mutter, weakly, all your energy drained by your feral man. You’d let him kill you, even. You wanted to be used, to be his.
“Did so good f’me, little one. Let me get you all cleaned up. Don’t move, don’t want my girl tiring herself.
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calisturniolo · 2 days
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☆ IF THE WORLD WAS ENDING I’D WANNA BE NEXT TO YOU
summary. . . cute things matt does in a relationship
warnings. . . mentions of slight insecurity
a/n. . . i was on the plane and thought of this so wrote it down in my notes app and im now writing it while waiting on my second plane and this song has been stuck in my head for weeks now. also i didn’t proof read this because i was rushing to get on my flight but i wanted to post it now
𝜗𝜚 ALWAYS HAS TO BE CUDDLING YOU WHILE SLEEPING, NO MATTER WHAT.
you finish your small skincare routine and put on your pyjamas before climbing into matt’s cozy bed, snuggling into the covers as you get tucked up under them.
matt follows right behind you, climbing into the warm bed. he immediately pulls you flush against him, wrapping his strong arms around your waist with his chest to your back.
you let out a content sigh as you feel his body relax into yours, you place your hands over his hand that is draped over your exposed stomach.
he nuzzles his head into your neck and lets out an equally content sound, his breath warm against your skin. his arms wrap even tighter around you, pulling you impossibly closer to him.
“you just gotta be cuddling me, don’t ya?” you giggle out as you close your eyes, trying to fall into a deep sleep.
matt chuckles lightly against your shoulder, his breath sending a shiver down your spine. he pulls you even closer to him, his warm chest pressing firmly against your back.
“mhm you know it” he whispers out, leaving a kiss on your neck.
𝜗𝜚 HE ALWAYS WANTS TO LISTEN TO YOU, EVEN WHEN YOU THINK YOURE TALKING TOO MUCH
you had been talking matt’s ear off for the past hour about someone in your college — you didn’t even think about how bored matt must be, listening to you talking about the same topic for over an hour.
“then she said to me-“ you stop yourself as you check the time and realise how much you had spoke, you looked up at matt and saw he still had the same smile of adoration sitting on his face as he did an hour ago, “did i ramble on again…sorry” you awkwardly say, scratching the back of your neck.
matt chuckled softly at your comment, his eyes sparkling with love as he looked at you. he took your hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze, his thumb rubbing circles against the back of your hand.
“don’t be sorry” he said with a warm smile, “i could listen to you talk for hours.”
a huge smile came onto your face at matt’s sweet compliment but insecurity quickly taking over you, “you sure… you sure i’m not talking your ears off? i know i yap on and on all the time… but you’re sure?” you ask with a hint of insecurity in your voice.
matt’s heart softened at the hint of insecurity in your voice. he gently pulled you closer, wrapping his arm around your waist as you laid on his shoulder in a comforting embrace.
“i’m absolutely sure.” he reassured you, his voice firm yet tender. “i love hearing about your day, about things you love, about anything and everything. it’s a part of who you are, and i love every bit of it.” he gave you a gentle squeeze before leaning forward to look into your eyes with complete sincerity.
𝜗𝜚 ALWAYS SURPRISES YOU WITH FLOWERS
he knows they’re your favourite and always makes sure to pick out the prettiest bunch. he gives you them before dates too, just so he can admire the way your face lights up when he gives you them.
at the moment, matt was out with nick and chris at a meeting. you were bored so you texted him just to see what he was up too.
| hey baby! where are youuuu? also see if you pass gas station on your way home could you pleaseee get me a blue slurpee????
you pressed send and waited for a reply. you weren’t expecting a reply straight away since he was at a meeting.
matt sees his phone light up with a text notification — once he saw it was from you, a smile lit up his face. the meeting he was just in was boring, your simple check-up made him feel better.
| heyyy we’re just leaving, don’t worry i’ll get you aslurpee. see you soon, i love you
matt sets his phone down in the cup holder after hitting send on his text. his attention goes back to the road as he turns in at 7-eleven to get you a slurpee and flowers.
he walks into the gas station and picks up a bunch of baby breaths and tulips for you, he then gets your blue slurpee, before he leaves he grabs a few bags of your favourite candies and paying, walking out the store and back to his car.
he hands the flowers over to chris and the bags of candies, sitting the slushie in the cup holder before driving off back home. he’s excited to get home and see the look on your face when he gives you the flowers.
he walks inside his bedroom, shutting the door with his foot as he has flowers and candy in one hand and the slurpee in the other, “hey baby, i’m back” he says walking to the desk and putting all the things he bought at the store down.
“oh my god… hey, you’re back” you say, putting down your phone and getting off his bed as you walk into his open arms.
he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. he can’t help but bury his face against your neck, leaving light kisses there.
you felt shivers down your spine as he left kisses on your skin, “how was your meeting?” you asked.
“boring” he mumbled against your neck, still peppering light kisses there, “i missed you” he added quietly, nuzzling closer.
you let out a small giggle but your heart swelled at his comment, “matt, baby, you saw me before you left this morning” you said pulling back from him.
“i know… also i got you a present.” he said walking back over to the desk and picking up the flowers and your slurpee.
your eyes light up as you see the bunch of flowers in his hand and the blue slushy, “matt..they’re beautiful. thank you so much, i love you” you say as he holds the flowers out for you with a smile.
you take hold of the flowers, you admire them with the cheesiest smile on your face.
matt loved buying you flowers, it was his favourite thing to do.
𝜗𝜚 ALWAYS TAKING PHOTOS OF YOU WHEN YOURE NOT LOOKING BECAUSE HE THINKS YOU LOOK SO CUTE
you and matt are sat on the sofa, a little space between you two. you were sitting with your knees up as your phone leaned against your thigh, your hoodie pulled up to your chin. you were scrolling on pinterest and adding photos to your boards, you were in your own little world until you heard matt let out a giggle.
you looked over at him as he looked over at you before talking, “look at this cute picture i took of you when you weren’t looking! it’s so cute, you’re adorable” matt gushed with a smile over his face as he turns his phone towards you to show you the photo.
you squint your eyes slightly to get a better look at the photo but when you get a full view of it, your face turns to a deadpan expression. you don’t see the cuteness matt was talking about, all you saw were flaws.
your messy hair, the unflattering angle, your glasses sitting lob sided on your nose, your bare face with no makeup, and the big pimple on your forehead.
“dude. be so for real, that photo is fucking horrible” you say leaning back to your original position but still looking at matt as he turns his phone back round and admiring the photo.
he playfully kicks your leg with his foot as he giggles, “hey! i thought you looked really cute in this picture, why’re you so negative?” he tilted his head, a curious look in his eyes.
you squinted your eyes and quirked an eyebrow at his reply but you felt butterflies in your stomach as he still complimented you, “no matt! look at my hair, it’s a mess, you can see my double chin, my glasses are lop sided, and look at that fat pimple on my forehead! and i have no makeup on. i actually feel disgusted looking at that right now”
he rolls his eyes, “okay fine, your hair isn’t perfect. your glasses are slightly lop sided, i didn’t even notice the pimple and you look amazing without makeup! why would you be so disgusted at the picture you? you look so cute in it.” he glances between the picture and your face, genuinely not understanding what’s so bad about it.
you jokingly roll your eyes at his obliviousness, “it’s ugly as shit, i just look bad. that’s why im disgusted.” you giggled out.
matt sighs. he doesn’t believe you for a second, “i’ve seriously never thought you looked bad! you’re so pretty, and this picture does not change it one bit” he grins and pokes your cheek and moves your glasses up your nose slightly, “it’s a cute picture and you’re a cute person. get over it”
you lean your head back on the back of the sofa with a smile on your face, “fine, i give up. you win.” you say leaning your head on his shoulder, he leans his head to the side and kiss your forehead.
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kittyfrisk9 · 1 day
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IdeaDpxDc: A nice moment with a sleep demon.
Note: Sorry, I don't know English, so please use a translator. I apologize if you don't get the idea.
Dead On Main.
---
Danny accidentally absorbed some of Nocturn's powers (like in the Vortex episode), and now, with these new temporary abilities, why not take advantage of them? Like a kid with a new toy, Danny (or should I say Phantom: with a new design) has fun every night going from dream to dream.
The dream world is so strange! Without the constant threat of a dream entity trying to take over the world and all that. Now he has fun exploring the most unusual parts of his classmates' subconscious, or anyone's in general.
Even though he knows he shouldn't be doing this (after all, he's a responsible adult now), spying on other people's dreams isn't exactly something a mature person would do.
On the other hand, Danny is the responsible adult; Phantom is the one who uses his new powers recklessly. Plus, no one in Gotham knows who Phantom is, and at the end of the day, he's not hurting anyone. Point in his favor!
It was all fun and games… until he felt it: the unpleasant taste of a nightmare, distressing and desperate. Phantom knows he has to intervene, because, unlike Nocturn, he does not delight in the suffering of others.
So he goes. And what he sees shocks him.
Resonant laughter of a psychopath, the constant pain of flesh being beaten, and the devastating reminder that no one came to help. Phantom doesn't just see it, he feels it. Gross. What is this? Why would anyone be hurting a child? Then he understands: this is not just a nightmare, it's a memory, and someone is suffering from reliving it.
He absolutely will not allow this nightmare to continue.
...
Jason hasn't been having good days lately, mostly because instead of going to therapy, he's chosen to sweep his trauma under the rug and aggressively throw himself into crime-fighting. He's not good at dealing with his emotions, especially when he's been tormented by the same damn nightmare over and over again.
He knows the script by heart, he knows how it will end, but he still feels the same fear as the first time.
His head hurts.
"No, not again," he thinks in terror. Once again, he's tied up, unable to move or call for help. It's colder than he remembers. The walls have a grotesque tint, with laughter written in every corner. But the worst thing is the silence… until the sound of clashing metal begins to resonate.
Everything is a thousand times worse. He's sure the original scenario wasn't like this, but his terrified mind refuses to accept it.
The metallic sound resonates louder, each crash rumbling in Jason's chest. His breathing quickens, and then he hears it: that laugh.
A deep, distorted echo of laughter that seems to come from every direction. The laughter snakes around the grotesque walls, filled with the same letters that repeat his agony. “Ha… ha… ha…” fills the air, louder with each invisible step that approaches.
Then, he appears.
It’s not the Joker he remembers from that fateful night. This one is worse. Bigger, more deformed, with a smile that seems to tear at his own face. The colors of his suit are darker, more twisted. It’s as if his mind has amplified him, made him more monstrous.
“My, my, how little Robin has grown? But… something remains the same, doesn’t it? No matter how many times you live it, it always ends the same way. And to think that you were my greatest work of art!”
His voice is mocking, but behind the mockery is pure cruelty, a wicked amusement that lights up in those crazy eyes.
The Joker leans towards Jason, his face invading the small distance between them. The sound of metal continues to echo, and Jason knows what's coming next.
"Oh, I almost forgot…" he says, pulling out of nowhere an iron crowbar that gleams in the dim light of the nightmare. "It wouldn't be a good memory without this, would it?"
That's when the pain begins. Jason doesn't want to scream, and he won't. Even though that abominable creature is just a representation of his killer, he won't give him the luxury of listening to him suffer. The blows continue, and Jason bites his tongue. It's just a nightmare, it's not real… it's not real.
It's not real.
It's not real.
It's not-
"Hey… Are you okay?" he hears him ask. His shocked gaze turns to where the clown should be and discovers that he's gone. In his place, there's a handsome young man: short, slightly messy black hair, expressive purple eyes, and a body almost completely shrouded in dark shadows.
The mysterious man had a cosmic air about him, surrounded by a mix of special effects of stars and galaxies. Something magical.
And new.
Jason honestly doesn't know what he's seeing, or why he's seeing it. "What?" he says, unable to find another word to describe his situation.
The entity laughs at his stunned state, a reassuring echo very different from the joker's laughter. Then he snaps his fingers, and suddenly he's no longer in that ugly room. He's now in a field of flowers, beautiful and vibrant, looking out at a starry sky.
Okay, this is the part where he asks his brain how he went from being in a nightmare to being with a handsome guy under the stars, hands free and untethered.
"Relax, you're not crazy," the being says as he lies back in the grass. “You were in pain, and I didn’t like it, so I got you out of there. Don’t worry, that abomination won’t bother you again.”
Jason blinks twice, bewildered, not understanding anything. “You… saved me?”
“You could say yes.”
“Why?” He shakes his head. “No, wait, that’s not the question. Who…?” Looking back at the being, he decides to change his question: “What are you?”
He seems to have taken the being by surprise.
It clasps its hands together as it looks up at the sky, trying to act normal. Jason narrows his eyes. “You can call me Void.”
“Did you just make up that name?”
The being looks away, seemingly embarrassed at being found out. “Yeah…” And suddenly exclaims, “Ah, ancients! I'm not supposed to be doing this, much less with one of the bats."
That last sentence had given away more than it should have.
"Hey, how about we admire the night view and then pretend this never happened?" Void suggested with a hopeful smile, turning to Jason.
Maybe it was the soft scent of the flowers, the calm atmosphere, or just the tiredness after so many nights of endless nightmares, but Jason, without thinking too much about it, walked over, lay down next to Void on the grass, and said, "No."
He needed a break.
...
And that's how Jason befriended a dream demon. And how Danny pretended to be a dream demon until Nocturn's powers wore off. He couldn't let the bats find out his identity.
After that, they spent more time together, fell in love, there was drama and there was closure. In the middle of all that, Danny started having tea with Alfred in the dream world, and at other times, he had fun bothering the other bats in their dreams.
But that's another story.
---
Note: Sorry, I don't know English, so please use a translator. I apologize if you don't get the idea.
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vividxpages · 1 day
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。° ✮୨ৎ "lay it all on me" - Jace Velaryon x f!Reader ୨ৎ✮° 。
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words: 2100
summary: With the Queen and your betrothed Jacaerys’ delayed arrival, you are left in charge of the day’s council meeting. When one of the lords starts to speak of a possible bedding ceremony for your upcoming wedding, your thoughts begin to spiral badly…
warnings: the lords in Rhaenyra’s council being perverts and dicks, talks of misogynistic traditions and predatory behavior of men, sexism and misogyny, panic attacks, Jacaerys being a protective betrothed, angst, emotional hurt/comfort, crying, hopeful ending
a/n: I cooked this up so quickly, but I was very inspired yesterday - thank you so much to the anon who sparked a conversation about bedding ceremonies in my asks and with it, my inspiration for this idea! <3 this is for you :*
˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
When the messenger arrived at the council room and announced the delayed arrival of the Queen and her son, you had been optimistic for a moment.
Jacaerys and you, a team ever since your shared childhood and since recently betrothed with the blessings of his mother and family, had led council meetings like this together before and you were no stranger to the strategies and logistics of the war and Rhaenyra’s efforts in it. You just had not done it by yourself before.
You nodded in thanks to the messenger and turned back to the assembly of Rhaenyra’s lords around the table with a polite smile. It was only a matter of time until her and Jace would make their return from the dragon’s caves and until then, you’d do your best to begin today’s conversation.
“Well then, my lords.” You nodded to yourself and took a deep breath, looking into the round with openness. “I believe we’ll continue where we’ve left off yesterday? Is there any news yet of Daemon’s stay at Harrenhal? We could-“
“There is another matter of importance we thought we could discuss with you, my princess.” One of the lords interrupted you, a cool smile on his face as you leaned back in your seat. You cocked an eyebrow at him to continue despite your sentence being left unfinished. “Since the wedding with the prince Jacaerys will occur in the upcoming months, it would be wise to discuss the bedding ceremony sooner rather than later.”
Something in you went very, very still.
You blinked at him before you looked into the other men’s faces. They seemed to be in agreement of this rapid topic change. “The…bedding ceremony?”
“Yes, it is of grand importance to ensure the consummation of marriage between two newly-weds.” He explained to you, a satisfied smile tugging at the corners of his old mouth. “It’s an old tradition and the lords and I believe it is best to follow it with the young and lovely union of the prince and you.”
You swallowed against the dryness in your throat, your hands suddenly clammy with unsureness. “I have not talked to Jace about such a thing. The Queen hasn’t spoken to me about it either. That’s…-What if me and Jacaerys are against it?”
A few of them chuckled as if you had made a good jest.
“My princess, is it not really a matter of choice, if you understand.” One of them explained to you before he suddenly turned away from you and addressed the others: “The wedding will be held here at Dragonstone as we know and I thought of a crowd of perhaps a dozen, mostly members of the family and this council, of course. After the celebrations, the prince will lead his bride away in the company of the Queen’s loyal and trusted advisors and then, the marriage will be consummated in a room large enough for the ceremony.”
You opened your mouth to object, but found your voice had simply vanished.
“Will there be sheets as proof in the morning?”
“I would actively support it.”
“There are clothes here at Dragonstone suited for such a ceremony, I am sure we will have them before the wedding takes place.”
“A purity test accomplished by a maester might be sufficient beforehand as well-“
You felt yourself drifting away from the conversation, one that circled around you and yet did not include you at all. Staring at the table in front of you, you felt your breath quicken as a distant howl swept through your mind, drowning out their voices as they went on and on.
In your mind, you saw yourself being led into a fully lit room. The dress you wore was thin and barely hiding your body, your arms protectively crossed in front of yourself as you shivered. The bed chamber was crowded all the way back to the tapestry of the walls with men regarding you coolly. Their hunger for the curves barely hidden underneath your dress was evident in their eyes, yet you had to walk on until you reached the middle of the room. Jacaerys was waiting, his own expression blank and without any emotion for you as he took your hand and led you to bed. There were a thousand eyes on you and you felt numb, your body screaming in protest, your mind begging you to shout at them to leave as Jace mechanically began to kiss your neck-
The wide doors of the hall opened and the men seated around you abruptly stood, their wrinkly hands brushing over their attires. The Queen was here.
You remained in your seat, your mind having drawn itself back to a hidden part in yourself, blankly staring at the fidgeting hands in your lap. When you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder, the touch so familiar it could’ve been your own, you closed your eyes for just a moment. Jacaerys had come with her.
“What is going on?” Rhaenyra demanded to know, walking around the big table as she took in your uncharacteristic quiet state.
When your betrothed raised your hand to his lips in greeting, you looked up and bit your lip at Jace’s worried expression. The taste of iron coated your lips and only now you realized you had bitten your lip so badly, it had started to bleed. The pain was almost a relief.
“Are you alright?” Jace murmured, his hand delicately cupping your cheek and making you shudder. Your eyes were glassy, your cheeks red from shame and suddenly, a strong urge to cry shot through you, so intense you barely could fight it. “What is it, my love?”
You shook your head, avoiding his searching gaze.
The shame burned hotly through you and you wanted to shrink into your seat until you could escape these old devils. One of them, who had started this whole discussion about the ceremony in the first place, cleared his throat. “Your Grace, we were discussing possible arrangements for the wedding of the prince and his betrothed. There have been no mentions of the traditional bedding ceremony yet and the lords and myself were worried that-“
Rhaenyra frowned with a disgusted curl of her lips. “A bedding ceremony? There hasn’t been a tradition like this in my generation. Why would we burden the next with such an old piece of the past?”
You could sense Jace tensing beside you, his face dark as he stared at the lord. Would he look at you like this too, when the happiest day of your life would end with having to sleep with each other in front of dozens? Your chest hurt as you struggled to breathe normally.
“The princess has expressed similar concerns, but there are ways…There could be a thin veil draped over the sides of the bed.” Another suggested generously and you felt your stomach turn itself over. “Of course, it cannot shield the pair fully from the observer’s eyes. They have to be in sight, so it can be assured that she’s-“
“There will be no bedding ceremony.” Jace cut him off, close to snarling as he flexed his hand on the hilt of his sword. He remained by your side, his stance protective of you and intimidating. “Neither my mother or myself have been consulted about this before and the fact that you’ve preyed on an opportunity to bring it up in front of the princess is close to treason. And yet you’ve dared to speak of such inappropriate matters in front of my betrothed, your future Queen? I could have you hanged by the cliffs of Dragonstone for such perverted behavior.”
“My prince, with all respect, it simply is tradition. It has to be guaranteed that on the night of her wedding, the bride is a maiden-“
The sound of your chair screeching over the floor broke through the room as you stood up. The sound of your own breath was too loud in your eyes, the lump in your throat only growing by the second. “If you would excuse me, Your Grace, I’m not feeling well.”
Jacaerys stood with you, but as he reached for your hand, you had already slipped away and quickly made your escape towards the wide doors, trying to breathe against the numbing panic in your lungs.
You blindly walked down the long corridor, ignoring the questioning looks of the guards standing on the sides. Would they be there as well, to witness yours and Jace’s union, eyes on your naked body when Jace had to deflower you in front of an audience?
You choked on a sob, the tears running freely down your cheeks now, the pain in your chest only expanding from keeping it inside for so long. You had never experienced a panic like this before, a powerful tide washing all rational thoughts away and sending your brain into overdrive.
Behind you, quick footsteps were approaching and before you knew it, Jacaerys had overtaken you and blocked your path, taking your upset state in with wide eyes. Your bottom lip wobbled dangerously and you came to a halt, noting how far and fast you had walked away from the council room.
“My love…” Jacaerys mumbled quietly and stepped closer and somewhere inside of you, a dam burst and he caught you as you fell into his arms, your body wrecked with heartbreaking and breathless sobs. He wrapped his arms around you, drawing you against his chest and letting you cry, his own heart aching at the stress vibrating through your body.
“I don’t want them to see…” You sniffled miserably against his shoulder, his arms tightening protectively around your waist, one of his hands resting on the back of your head and stroking your hair. “I want our wedding night to be ours, I don’t want them in the room with us, I don’t want any of it.”
“I’m not going to allow it.” He assured you calmly, suppressing his own anger for the sake of your peace of mind. Later, he’d had time to rage and forge the feeling into action, but now the only thing that mattered was you. “They have no right to make these rules for us. You and I decide, together, okay?”
You nodded, your anxiety slowly beginning to ebb away and leaving the council room and its members behind you.
“I am so sorry I was not there with you.” Jacaerys regretfully whispered against your temple, soothingly stroking your back as you rested your tear-streaked face against his neck. “I am not going to let this slide. And I am serious, my love, I promise you; there will be no bedding ceremony, I’m not going to let them expose you like this.”
You lifted your head to look at him, your eyes still shimmering with worried tears. “And what if we have to? I can’t do this, Jace, I would rather die-“
He gently shushed you and gently rested his forehead against yours, willing you to take big and deep breaths with him until you were breathing in sync and your shivering stopped. “We don’t have to do anything. You and I, we’ll be king and queen someday and I will not accept any disrespect towards you, not today or when we’re married, alright?”
You nodded slowly, exhaling deeply as you allowed yourself to sink against him, letting yourself be held and gently swayed from side to side. Slowly but surely, your heart stopped hurting and the clouds in your mind dissolved until you only felt him.
“Alright.” You whispered back after a while and his lips on yours, featherlight and oh so gently, were a relief after such moments of stress. When you separated and looked into each other’s eyes, you added quietly: “I want this, with you. All of it. I want our first time together to be special and a memory we’ll cherish forever.”
“And it will be, I promise.” He soothed you. “These old pathetic men will do good to remember their place before I’ll unleash Vermax on them.” He added jokingly and even managed to make you giggle a little bit at the mental image. “You know how Vermax adores you, he’ll eat them in one piece and spit them out, because they’re disgusting.”
You snorted tiredly and nuzzled his neck in affection, not ready to separate yourself from him just yet.
“My mother will deal with them.” Jace promised you darkly, a revengeful shimmer in his fierce eyes as he wiped the last of your tears away with his thumb. “And when she’s done with them, I will make sure as well they’ll remember who they answer to, my queen.”
He would deal with this.
And after he had put those foul men in their place, he’d make sure you’d be the happiest you could be and your wedding would be perfect and just the way the two of you had imagined for so long…
my taglist: @princesschimchim1325 @cecestea @jacesvelaryons @princessvelaryon @diannnnsss
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eleganzadellarosa · 3 days
Text
Forgive and Forget
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pairing: mingyu x fem!reader
genre: smut (fluff if you pat your head and rub your stomach)
warnings: MDNI!!! (size kink (sorry I can’t help it, he’s just so big 😍), oral (f receiving), slight manhandling, breeding, lots of cum)
word count: 1.69K
A/N: it’s about that time yall, he always slithers into my brain at some point in time 🙄💕it took everything in me to not throw in some dacryphilia, the parasites in me really wanted to. Honestly I have nothing else to say except enjoy and thanks for reading :)
You’re far too in it to remember what the argument was about, but you knew you were right. It wasn’t often that you and Mingyu had disagreements of this caliber, most of the time they were “friendly”. Right now you’re angry, very angry actually, over something that you still don’t remember but you’re making sense and he’s clearly in the wrong. He raised his voice at you and vice versa, the argument was pretty heated but that was as far as it would ever go.
“You’re not even acknowledging that you’re wrong right now Gyu and you know you are!” Your finger was pointed but you were more so pointing at the space around him than at the actual person.
“Baby it doesn’t even matter, I know I’m wrong I just don’t like what you said!
He knew he upset you but the things you were blaming him for weren’t true and that’s kind of how the argument started; he just wanted to clear his name. You were so infuriating at times like these, standing your ground and not taking no for an answer.
“Fine whatever! I’m over this!” You threw your hands up and went to walk away but he grabbed you by the arm, pulling you back toward him.
He first caught you by the waist then held your face in his hands. You looked so pretty all the time, even when you were angry. He hated fighting with you, it made his heart ache and he always subconsciously thought you hated him a bit every time it was over. He knew that was a stupid idea and way to feel because you obviously loved him but he couldn’t help but be nervous. You couldn’t hate him, it would tear him up from the inside.
“Baby I’m sorry, you know I didn’t mean to make you upset right?” He rubbed your cheeks with his thumbs.
Your heart softened seeing the slight pout on his face. You didn’t like it either; raising your voice at each other as if you had no love in your hearts. “Mm” a small whimper of agreement leaving your throat because if you spoke, maybe your eyes would start to water.
“You forgive me? Hmm?” He kissed the top of your nose and touched his forehead to yours. When you nodded and he saw the early glimmers of tears in your eyes, he got down on his knees. “You sure? I won’t know unless you say it.” He ran the edge of his nails up the back of your thighs; you forgot you wore this little skirt.
Your cheeks were burning and no thoughts ran through your head as you watched this man who was obviously bigger than you, beg for your forgiveness on his knees as if you were the keeper of his soul. You were always weak to those puppy eyes he would give you so unintentionally but that only signified just how desperate he was to hear what he needed in order to feel better. He was kissing at your stomach now, one hand still on your thigh and the other under your shirt.
“Of course I forgive you Gyu.”
“Really baby? You don’t hate me?”
Hate him? You could never hate him; he never gave you reason to. “Why would hate you Gyu? I love you so much.” You gently caressed his face with your hand.
That put a smile on his face and he wrapped his big arms around your waist and rested his chin where his lips previously laid. “You gonna let me make it up to you?”
That sparkle in his eyes; going from desperate to happiness, now to a mixture of lust and excitement. “You don’t have to do that Gyu, it’s okay.”
“Pleeeease? I’ll make you feel so good baby, I promise.”
Your heart beat thumped in your entire body; your neck, your fingertips, your chest, you were suddenly aware how fast it was going. “Okay, but only if you want t-“
He was already pushing you against the nearest wall, still on his knees. He slid that tiny little skirt he loved so much down your legs along with your panties and draped a leg over his shoulder. He tapped on the other one to get you to let him do the same. He was sturdy, a big wide frame for you to comfortably rest your jelly like legs as he settled his tongue right between your juicy folds. He was so good at getting you wet, or maybe you just couldn’t help it.
He was right, you did feel good. Your hands tangled in his fluffy hair, back arched and head leaned back against the wall. You weren’t going anywhere but he had a tight grip over your thighs to keep you still while he got to work. Flat tongue exploring every inch of your dripping pussy. He made rough circles over your clit, stopping to suck on it every now and again. He was enjoying himself; grunting, moaning, whimpering at the taste of you flooding his tastebuds. Nothing was sweeter than you, nothing made his body feel like it was on fire like you did.
Toes curled and thighs shaking, you were close to what was to obviously come. “G-Gyu, gonna cum.”
There he was again, looking up at you with those same eyes that crumbled you into a bunch of tiny pieces. He grabbed higher on your thighs, bringing your pussy closer to him, sticking his tongue as deep as it could go. His fingertips dug into the flesh of your ass, your hands tugging on his hair slightly. His nose pressed against your clit and that along with everything else pushed you over the edge.
He loved being the one to get you like this. To be the only one tasting you in your most vulnerable form. He was twitching in the pants he wore; you were absolutely lethal. When you came down from your high, he gently let your legs down and stood up; chin and lips glistening. He smiled at you when you stood on your still wobbly legs. You wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him down for a sloppy kiss. His hands rested on your ass until he lifted you so that your legs wrapped around his waist.
He carried you to the bed, still kissing you and placed you on your stomach. You were left in nothing but your top, your bottom half on full display. You looked over your shoulder and watched as he removed everything until he was left in nothing but his skin. He was behind you now, propping you up on your knees so that his fat head could rub against your entrance. He grabbed your hips and slid in; hissing as he reached the hilt. Breathing heavily, he slowly built up a momentum, rocking his hips faster and faster.
“Mmm Gyu, feels so good…”
“Hmm? Feels good baby? Want more?”
He didn’t have to see you nod, your hips bucked back to meet his thrusts; just a way to tell him you needed more. Your walls sucked him in, inviting him to have no boundaries and to fuck you to his heart’s desire.
“Love you so much, don’t wanna fight no more.” His thrusts were quick now, fat dick stretching you out so deliciously.
No words could accurately describe how amazing it felt to be under him. So big and so heavy in all the right amounts. To have your face in the mattress while he grabbed at you as if you would slip away. He leaned forward, hands sliding under your shirt to fondle your breasts. His hands were soft, big but rough and mean all at the same time.
“Love you Gyu…love youuuu” you were moaning and whimpering; it all felt too good and your body felt tingly.
Your voice so pretty too, letting him hear how good he made you feel. He was no match for you, he couldn’t go on much longer before he wanted to fill you up just so he could hear you some more. He was addicted.
“Love you baby, love this warm pussy too, love everything. Wanna give you more. Wanna give you it all.” He wrapped his arms around you, trapping yours at your chest while he rut into you like a dog in heat.
Absolutely perfect, all of it. You loved how even though he could easily crush you, he made sure to use his size to protect your smaller body. He was getting so deep at the angle, a huge creamy mess forming at the base of his dick. His knees were between yours to keep you nice and spread for him.
“P-please Gyu…want it” your voice slightly higher pitched than it was earlier or better described as: the way your voice would change when you couldn’t take it anymore and needed to cum.
He sped up, thrusts so deep and fast, tip bullying your cervix. He squeezed you a bit tighter, prepping you and him for the massive load he was going to release. He was panting in your ear, breath warm and tickly. This only caused your pussy to flutter, walls clenching down on him. It was turning his pants into moans; gosh he was so close but so were you. You kissed at his bicep closest to you and it drove him crazy; you drove him crazy.
“Fuck, baby can’t hold it…gonna fill you up.”
And fill you up he did. A few more thrusts and his warm cum flooded your walls, slipping out and dripping down your thighs. You were both still moaning as you came down from your highs. He freed you from his trap and laid down next to you. Neither of you had the energy to move, panting heavily as the effects wore off. He built up the strength to pull you close to him because he couldn’t deal with you being so far.
“I’m sorry Gyu, I didn’t mean to yell at you and accuse you of all those things.”
He stroked your hair and kissed your forehead, “It’s okay baby I know, we don’t have to talk about that. Just lay here with me okay?”
Soon the silence engulfed you both and slipped you into a peaceful slumber.
Would y’all forgive him? 👀
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tbaluver · 3 days
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Can you do the boys with a mentally unwell reader? Like she has depression, ocd, or anxiety that she takes medication for?
S/O Who Faces Mental Illness- The Love And DeepSpace Men
parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader tags: ( for all ) mentioning of depression/ depressive episodes, ocd rituals, anxiety/ social anxiety a/n: hi anonnie ! ♡⸜(˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝ sorry this took awhile, this was sitting in my drafts and i would keep coming back to it. i just wanted to make sure this topic is handled with care. i know that everyone has different types of depression, anxiety, and ocd so i wrote the ones that i'm familar with and gone through. i hope this was okay lmk ! ̤̮
⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆
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Xavier:
Xavier has always been such an attentive lover to you and he’s grown increasingly worried as he observed your unhealthy habits. He notices how you spend more time in bed than usual, longer than he would stay in bed. How you seem disinterested in eating, even if it were foods you typically enjoyed. Noticing how these impacts have affected you, he has made the effort to educate himself better on what you’re going through to understand and support you better.
If you were taking any medications, he'll read the entire packet that came with it or look up as much information he can online. He'll try to remember all the side effects that comes with it and makes sure to check up on you whenever you take them.
He notices when your energy plummets so it’s his duty to take care of you. He tries to make everything easy for you. He’ll make sure to tuck both of you in bed, turning off the lights when you both get ready, making sure to have food delivered when you wake up. Xavier encourages you to take a walk outside with him, helping you get some fresh air and encouraging you to step out of bed. He’ll hold your hand the entire time.
Distractions were one of the ways he could get your mind off any anxious thoughts or from any of your OCD rituals. He'll have a list of your favorite things to do and see if it helps. He'll stay with you in bed all day if that's what you need and wouldn't let you isolate yourself. Will also build a fort to cuddle you up in and have you tucked in his arms.
Anytime you two were out and you started to feel drained, then he'll take you back home. You two can stay in and cuddle.
He never pushes you beyond your comfort levels. If there was any situation where you started to feel uncomfortable, then he'll lead the situation and you somewhere else that sets you more at ease.
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Zayne:
Zayne is no stranger to the topics of mental illness. He’s gone through extensive studies and many clinical experiences with patients. But with you, it's different. Your struggles aren’t just a clinical case to him, they’re personal. He’s acutely attuned to subtle changes of your mood and actions. He notices the quiet shifts in your expressions, or the way your eyes dull and lose their sparkle. Even though it’s hard to read through his expressions, it truly does hurt him to see you suffer. Your internal pain that you battle inside hurts him more than words can convey.
If you were to go through a depressive episode and you feel like you can’t do everything you need, then Zayne has no problem doing the extra housework or helping you with your physical health. He would reassure you to not feel guilty even though he’s busy with his work or any paperwork's. You have done so much as a loving partner to him and he will always return the favor for you.
He’ll help you shower and dress you up. He'll make sure to brush your hair gently and that you brush your teeth. He’ll even make sure you eat enough and he’ll praise you for taking every bites.
He’s always there for you. Even if he was in the middle of work, he would remind you to never hesitate to reach out whenever you feel isolated or just needed to vent, anything. Spam him, leave voice messages- he’ll read every word and listen to each message and reply with care. No matter how busy he might be, he’ll find a way to call you as soon as he can. He wants to make sure you’re okay and to remind you that you’re never alone, even when he’s away. Your well-being matters so deeply to him that he’s committed to be there for you in every possible way.
He'll keep note of all the side effects you've experienced with your medications, so he's aware of the potential issues that might arise when you take them. Will send you texts reminding you to take your meds at the right time and to make sure you eat before you take them so you don’t get nauseous.
He’s a very attentive and caring partner, he pays close attention to the triggers of your OCD and observes the coping mechanisms you have. He notices your struggle with hand washing compulsions and understands how these rituals can take a toll on you. He’ll try to help you by pointing out that excessive hand washing can actually be harmful, as it washes away the beneficial ones that your body needs.
He'll be very reassuring when you feel the need to constantly check up on things. He won't judge you for it but instead he'll offer to check on it himself and reassure you that everything is okay.
It wouldn’t be new to him to avoid places that were crowded or super noisy. He would know where all the less crowded and quiet places are. At this point, he already had taken the time to understand your triggers and sources of anxiety. He just wanted to be well-informed so he can help you avoid these situations and provide the support and care you need.
If you were to experience an anxiety attack, he remains calm and patient and helps you try to breathe. Whenever you need to vent, he’s always there for you. He’ll let you curl up on his lap while you talk, gently stroking your hair. Although he’s quiet while you talk, you know he listens to every detail and he doesn’t want to interrupt you. After you finish sharing, he’ll offer advice or discuss the situation to help you work through it together.
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Rafayel:
He knows that you were going through significant struggles because it often kept you doing certain things with him. There are times when the weight of your depression and anxiety feels so heavy that it drains your motivation, making your favorite hobbies or simply just doing anything seem out of reach. Sometimes the intensity of your OCD leads you to stay up, unable to rest because you repeatedly check things like the light switches, doors, windows, and everything else in the house.
OCD is a topic that Rafayel wouldn’t tease or be playful on with you. He notices the small things when you repeat patterns or prefer certain number sets. He’s very patient and understanding about this topic but anytime you feel as if your ocd ritual was messed up, he is quick to run to your side and reassure you that everything will be okay.
Rafayel has been in a dark place himself so he knows the signs when you’re struggling. Whether you’ve been through this over and over again, he’ll help you through this every single time. If you don't have the energy to take a shower or a bath, then he’ll simply carry you and wash you himself. He’ll join you and use your favorite bath bomb scents and make it a little fun by blowing bubbles at you. A smile would curl up on his lips when he sees you smiling again.
He wouldn’t force you to talk. He’ll do most of the talking and hopefully it takes your mind off anything you were anxious about. When you are ready to talk, he’ll praise you. It’s a big step forward in healing and he would be listening attentively to everything you say.
Rafayel would text you throughout the day and ask how you were feeling. He's always there at your beck and call. If you need anything, he already has it and he's on his way to you.
If you were out in public and you started to feel uneasy, he would lead you somewhere else. Rafayel would always be holding your hand for security and to make sure you were always right by his side. He doesn't mind wherever you both go, as long as he's with you. He makes sure that you two can go to places that aren't crowded or noisy but still enjoyable and fun for the both of you.
He’s very worried whenever you take medications. He knows that they can have some mean and nasty side effects and that’s the last thing he would want you to go through. He’ll always make sure to check up on you a couple hours later to see how you’re holding up.
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Sylus:
It does not take him long to notice you were acting off. Nothing can get past this man and he doesn’t want you to feel like you have anything to hide from him. No matter what the issue is, he isn’t leaving your side and you’ll both work on the issue together. He doesn’t want you to go through anything alone.
When you feel empty and you simply want to sink into your bed and lay there motionless because everything in the world was just too much, Sylus will not hesitate to take action. He’ll make sure you're eating nutritious meals by calling his private chefs or he’ll make them himself. He’ll sit right beside you and watch you take enough bites or he’ll spoon feed it to you himself. Sylus would make sure to tell you that you were doing so well even if the bites were big or small. After you are done eating, he’ll make sure that you take all your meds and check up on you if any of the side effects arise.
He’ll be right by your side at any doctor's appointments. He’ll carry you to the bathroom himself or he’ll use his evol to help wash, dry, and dress you up. Sylus would encourage you as well to go on walks with him so your body is still moving and so you can get some fresh air. He does all of this because he loves you and he doesn’t want you to lose any of the progress you made. He knows your capabilities and he knows you will get through this. He’ll be right by your side the entire time.
When he notices that your OCD rituals are becoming overwhelming, he doesn't hesitate to step in to help. He finds engaging activities for the both of you to do so it steers your focus away from the obsessive thoughts. Understanding how OCD can distort your perceptions, he uses distractions as a way to gently pull you out of that obsessive cycle.
Sylus would let you know that he’s accessible. Whenever you need him, feel free to call him any time and he’ll drop anything and come by to help you.
Don't even bother brushing off any of your issues. Anything that bothers you, he's always there to listen and help you. He’s a great listener and he never judges you for any problems you had and the reason behind your behavior. His shoulder is for you to lean on, cry on, laugh on, and hold on, etc. He’s understanding and wants you to be happy again.
When he’s away, he will have food delivered to you. He’ll make sure you eat and that you take your meds right after by calling or texting to remind you. Or he’ll just send Mephisto to you. He’ll caw/squawk repeatedly until you finish your meals.
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lilacgaby · 3 days
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title: gala gone wrong?
pairing: prohero!bakugo x prohero!reader
katsuki was suddenly forced to confront his feelings for you, when you were put in the date auction for charity.
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the heroes gala was something katsuki wouldn't look forward to normally. but this year he had a plan. he was going to ask you to be his date.
...originally. he chickened out last minute and owed kirishima 1000 dollars.
he was surprised to see you come alone though, opting to sit next to him which made him fist pump internally. you were a very successful hero who also doubled as a model. for what reason you ask?
none really, you just did it cause days off of hero work were boring. walking runways, topping charts, and beating villains with style was just another day for you.
you looked especially gorgeous this evening though, working with another up and coming designer to design a dress that perfectly complimented everything from your skin color, to you hair, to even references of your quirk.
katsuki suddenly felt underdressed in his suit, but to be fair every hero who was a man was dressed in a suit. except for monoma.
the auction portion of the gala started before the awards were to be given out.
the awards were pretty pointless in katsuki's mind. the only ones that mattered to him were the final rankings of popularity, efficiency, and the overall category.
"you nervous?" you whispered, talking over the first few lower ranked hero's to be auctioned for a date.
"nah, i know i won at least in popularity." he said, trying to keep eye contact with you without stuttering.
"hmm. what if i won? huh?"
"shut up."
she put a hand over her mouth, when suddenly-
"and the last date to be auctioned, a night with the top ranked woman hero [name]!"
"huh? oh that's me!" you said, collecting your dress as you walked to the stage, leaving katsuki blinking in confusion to himself.
you were in this? i mean it shouldn't have been a surprise, you had a rabidly loyal fan base, even since U-A. but what was he supposed to do? bid?
"the bid starts at.. 15,000 dollars." you rolled your eyes and gestured for people to go higher, and they did.
"17,000!"
"20,000!"
"30,000"
numbers were being shouted from all around the room, with the highest bids barely even being able to be tracked. the bids ranged from new heroes who definetly could not afford you, to old men who you really wish couldn't afford you.
you covered your mouth as you let a laugh escape you, this was hilarious to you, you'd have to do this more often.
after a bunch of back and forth, one booming voice cut all the others off.
"500,000 dollars. cash." to your surprise it wasn't an old creep. grand, also known as shindo yo, had suddenly bid. just as they were about to call off the auction and announce shindo the winner,
katsuki's internal dialogue won and 'forced' him to bid too. "750,000 dollars." he declared.
he doesn't think he'd have done it had it been any other idiot who wanted a chance with you, but that loser had to go.
"sold! to dynamite! we've broken a record here folks, 750,000 for the charity of --"
the words faded into the background as he looked up at you, smiling and walking over to him. he felt is heart speed up, his hands drown in sweat, his hair puff out.
"if you wanted to take me out you could've just asked katsuki." you joked, taking him by the hand as you pulled him back to the table towards the back you two were settled in on.
"whatever, now we have an excuse to."
"don't tell me you like me or something katsuki? how embarrassing."
"i told you shut it."
she laughed and settled down, poking him on the cheek. "its okay if you do, i like you quite a lot dynamite."
he flushed red at that, tiny explosions being let out from his hands inadvertently because of how caught off guard he was.
she held his hand under the table, before looking straight ahead to the ceremonies going on in front of them. he smiled and leaned back.
the awards were pretty boring when compared to the view of you, so until they had gotten to the cool stuff he just eyed you.. daydreaming about the life you'll have together someday.
he focused again when the top three heroes in popularity, efficiency, and overall were to be announced by all might.
at the end of the night, not only did he leave with a number one trophy with 'popular vote!' embedded in its side and an all-might signature at the bottom,
he also left with a lipstick mark from you right on his cheek, some flowers, and a small note that read 'see you tomorrow :)'.
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Text
Satin Pillows To Cry On
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CW: coercion with money, age gap(7 yrs), transactional marriage, obsessive/yandere behavior
gn! reader
﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀
You’ve got nothing else, no one else to rely on. 
‘You’re something he bought to keep from growing old.” 
Your clothes are worth small countries. Your cars stacked in 3-level garages. Diamonds, emeralds, pearls hanging from your wrists and ears, satchels made of endangered animal skins, different shoes for each day of the year. 
Your boyfriend of three years spat at your feet when you told him what you were doing. 
“His money can’t love you, not like I can.”
The wedding was only two months away when you broke up with him, told him you couldn’t live in his broke-down apartment anymore, that you couldn’t live with debt trailing wherever you went. You went so far as to make him hate you, to tell him that you never wanted to see him again, that you never loved him, that he better not bother showing up to the wedding. You didn’t want him there, you never wanted to see him again. 
“You’re lying to me; he’s making you say these things, he’s using you against me! You’ve known him what-- two seconds, and you’re going to marry this man?! He’s nearly a decade older than you!” 
Seven years of an age gap or not, he was still a thousand times more independent, wealthy, and a safer choice than your boyfriend. You weren’t some fresh college student new to the world, you had graduated over two years ago, still finding no luck in getting a stable income-- forget about whether or not it was in the field of your degree. 
You left in a single day, fitting all of your scavanged belongings into one of your fiance’s awaiting cars. You left anything worth of value with your ex-boyfriend, knowing he’d find more use out of it than you would. You would even leave the rest of your things there if he could find use for them, but you knew they’d just be one more painful reminder of your betrayal. 
He did as you said, not showing up to your wedding, staying clear, never appearing in your line of sight since the day you left. It made it easier…. For both of you that way. 
And now you were happy-- well, maybe not happy, maybe not even content, but you were… safe. You had everything you needed: a working car, a stable job that you felt productive in, a clean and comforting house to come home to, a spouse. Sure, maybe you didn’t get your new job yourself, or your house or your car-- but did that really matter, in this economy? Who wouldn’t trade their life and their independence for this kind of wealth?
And your husband… he wasn’t all bad. He might have only wanted you for the sake of having you at first, like a new jewel or the latest technological invention. But he was doting and caring in his own way. Maybe just a tiny bit too invested in you, in your schedule and who you talked to. A little too hateful towards your ex-boyfriend, the one who had you before he could. But everyone had character flaws, and on good days you could distract him from his grumpy mood and stress and obsessive behaviors by being the loving and oh so perfect spouse you had trained yourself to be ever since he asked to marry you. 
“Colder than all that gold…” You repeated in your mind, the words your family whispered to each other at your wedding reception only a few feet away from you. 
That was over six months now, though… the honeymoon phase never existed, you rarely saw your husband except for his midnight appearances back from the office, and whenever he would whisk you away for a weekend vacation to savor the time he had with you. For someone more sophisticated, much wealthier, and dare you say handsomer than the average man-- you were surprised to find he didn’t have a line of divorces behind him. 
No; he said, he had been “waiting for you.” whether  you or he knew it, he understood right from the moment of meeting you that you were the one he’d have for the rest of his life, even if it killed him. That severity… scared you. But in a sick sense, it made you feel relieved. Forever? This could be yours, forever? Your family would never have to struggle again, you would never have to worry where your next meal came from?
“I cleared your schedule until tuesday; we’re going to the isles. A mini vacation, you might call it. Get your things.”
He was cold, that was for sure. But, was he any worse than your ex-boyfriend, especially when he was offering you an expensive experience on top of that?
“All right..” You acquiesced. 
And now, you lied sunken into the bed feeling his loving, hot breath on your navel. Going so sweetly slow, so oddly and uncharacteristingly lingering with his touches as he gazes into your eyes. You didn’t like this; didn’t like that when he was cherishing you, making love to you, holding you so intimately, he was appearing… like a husband should. Where did he get the nerve to ignore you everyday, to have hardly any time for you, only to come back and beg for your love when it was convenient for him? 
But you keep your mouth shut, like you should, if you want to keep eating breakfast in bed, keep wearing silk robes while watching the view of the ocean outside your window.
“So beautiful…you’re like a work of art, the kind no amount of money can buy.” 
That was funny, hilarious even. Enough so to make you cry. 
A familiar face passes by the slightly ajar door to distract you, likely one of the housekeepers leaving for the night. But you swear the man’s figure reminds you of someone from your past, someone you loved and left for good. 
Your husband brings back your attention by placing a gentle kiss to your temple, blindly undoing the clasp of the necklace he bought you.
“I’m so lucky… so lucky to have been the one to catch you, forever. No one could’ve done it, not without what I have.”
He wanted you to kiss and caress back, but sometimes lying still was just enough. It was enough for him to witness you, basking in the glow of everything you wore from him, lying in the Egyptian cotton sheets he paid extra for, your body molded to the diet his personal chefs cooked. 
Even as he pushed a knee between your legs, traveling from your navel to your stomach with open-mouthed sucks and kisses in the rawest form of affection, you couldn’t help but turn your face deep into the pillow. So soft, the soft purple shielding your eyes from his tender gaze.
You might’ve given up love, given up everything familiar and those who you’ve cared for-- but at least you had satin pillows to cry on, and the finest jewelry to wipe your tears with. 
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mickyschumacher · 3 days
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𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬.
this post is for my sanity but here is a list of drivers i think embody childhood friends to lovers simply just because (not proofread at all):
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oscar piastri. so so so obvious. everything about him screams it. so attentive to everything about you and so goddamn proud of you. definitely only smiles like an idiot around you. refuses any other claims of smiling made by anyone else. the happiest when he's with you. enjoys watching you do something your passionate about. more certain about his feelings (and yours) than you are–like a hundred percent tells you out of the blue and is very persistent on them. like he's not shy about his feelings. but madly blushing and giggling to himself when he's with you. big on hand holding, hugging, cheek kisses... as discussed, he ain't shy. nicole probably tried to get you together first but oscar got embarrassed until he realised he needed her help. has a soft spot not just for you, but your entire presence in his life. oscar also likes to plan his dates with you. anything that makes you happy makes him happy.
mick schumacher. this is also obvious. you and mick have known each other your whole life. rumour has it you were born in cribs next to each other. you both know everything about each other. there for each other's most awkward, saddest, angriest, scariest, funniest moments. not sure if your feelings are real bc everyone from michael and corinna to your grandma has been planning for the both of you to get married. very much a blushing type of guy. he'd happily sit and listen to you yap. enjoys spending time with you no matter what. horse riding, picnics, lunch, long drives... mick would pretend they were dates until he actually told you he liked you. maybe this sounds crazy, but a pinky holder. like before you got together... this drove him crazy. such a simple act but he loves it.
paul aron. the endless nights you spent with each other as children in estonia... they were magical. all summer, you were off to the beach or walking around in the warm evenings to cool off. paul is very much in love with you and has been since he first met you. he tries to play it off, acting all cool about it and what not. "oh her? yeah she's my best friend." very happy to have you as his best friend–definitely brags about you. reality of his pretence: he is an absolute mess around you. always smiling here and there resulting in his brother ralf questioning him. thinking about you 24/7. aka very attentive. if you get sick, absolutely will not stand for it. he enjoys taking care of you. other than being in estonia with you, his favourite time with you is go-karting. teaching you what he's passionate about and then listening you lecture him about how worried you always are... it grounds him.
patricio o'ward. ah pato. the very personification of optimism itself. another one who isn't shy about his feelings but gets shy. he can't help it. how could he not love you? you were the best thing that had ever happened to him. pato loves teasing you. always claims you're smiling because of him, that you're blushing, and, wait for it... that you love him. go figure! (doesn't deny anything when people mistake you for a couple.) pato likes the domestic things with you. yes, he absolutely cherishes seeing you at his races. but he likes when it's just you, him, and norbi. like watching norbi run around the house with muddy paws and you're chasing norbi. loves cooking with you and yapping about the past. secretly enjoys when you and his sister gang up on him because he knows how much elba cherishes you. the best thing, however, is all those things in mexico. p.s. he fake proposed to you when you were kids. has the recording of it and intends to play it at your wedding.
charles leclerc. childhood lovers - CL... it's meant to be. pascale endorsed the idea early on and charles thought his mother was crazy. you were his best friend... you and him? surely not. but then he started seeing you differently. suddenly your smiles were making his heart skip. looking down at your teary-eyed face from a podium made him malfunction. the warmth of your hand was a feeling he yearned for as you consoled him. suddenly his platonic 'i love you' made him breathless and he would spend days learning how to breathe again. you always caught his lingering gazes, immediately for you to look away which got him grinning. was literally told not to tell anyone about signing with ferrari but how could he not tell you? waited for his first win with ferrari to actually tell you he's in love with you. (arthur and lorenzo had never been happier because they had been telling him to do it for years on end.) charles honestly doesn't know how formula one will go for him but he had planned his entire future with you in it. likes to carry a ring around with him because he's always waiting for the perfect moment to pop the question.
© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑
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cherriegyuu · 2 days
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so high school | kmg | part 2
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pairing: hockey player mingyu x f!reader  genre: smut (in later part), fluff, a bit of angst, bad attempt at comedy word count: 7.8k summary: when you’re suddenly thrown in Mingyu’s direction, you have no choice but to stay by his side, and maybe it’s not as bad as you think playlist: click here warnings: reader is mentioned to have long hair, mentions of food and alcohol please, remember to comment and reblog, it does mean the world to me and i would love to know your opnions.
< part one >
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It had taken you almost two entire weeks to work up the courage to talk to Mingyu again. He had been nice enough not to contact you first. No texts, no calls, and the two times you had bumped into him on campus — aka seen him across the street — he had nodded in greeting, but made no attempt to get closer.
You hated it, admittedly, but you had missed his presence. The annoying texts at inappropriate times, the way he would wave his arm above his head every time he saw you, like he was a kid seeing a friend after a long vacation.
You had no idea how to talk to him. You couldn’t just say haha, I’m sorry I didn’t remember you, even though I saw you every day for two years, you know how it is, right? without sounding like a complete and utter lunatic. And you didn’t even need Jeonghan to pull out his school photo album, which he absolutely did, to rub in your face how completely forgetful you were. The moment Mingyu said the words “she doesn’t remember me”, laughing a little, a somewhat embarrassed by the situation, it was as if the movie of your adolescence suddenly flashed through your eyes.
Every time you had seen him leave the gym, following Jeonghan and Seungcheol closely. At first, he was quiet, just observing everything and later talking to your brother only, and then he was laughing and making jokes along with everyone else. He was obviously loved by his teammates. You remember finding him handsome back then when he was much younger and wore clothes chosen by his mother. You never talked, it’s true, you didn’t even know his name, but you always knew who he was.
How you went from that moment to years later not remembering him, you didn’t know. That was a big mystery, and you had no idea how to answer.
You saw Mingyu leaving the building next to a girl. He smiled and gestured as he talked, clearly excited about the subject at hand. The girl next to him smiled broadly, her body leaning closer to his, despite the clear space between the two of them. She looked at Mingyu as if he had nailed the stars to the sky, as if he was the only reason the sun shone every morning.
You thought about giving up. You were going to interrupt something and you didn't want that, didn't want to draw any kind of attention to yourself, anything more than necessary.
And then Mingyu looked straight ahead, right in your direction. You closed your eyes for a second, forcing yourself to do exactly what you had planned to do from the beginning. Slowly, you raised your right hand in front of your body, at the height of your stomach, and waved. It was a quick and shy movement that you almost didn't want to do.
The smile on Mingyu's face grew huge as if he had seen something that had truly made him happy. He held his arm over his head, swinging it from side to side like a child; you couldn't stop a small smile from spreading across your lips, no matter how hard you tried. 
Mingyu strode across the lawn, the girl he was talking to was left behind, forgotten, calling out his name loudly, but he didn't look back once. She glared at you and you knew, at that very moment, that if you didn't have a single enemy in your life, you had just made one. 
He stopped in front of you, arms crossed over his chest, a smile on his face. It took everything you had to do not to stare at his arms or to keep smiling. 
"Look, who's talking to me, in public" the teasing was clear in his voice. 
"Mingyu" his name came out of your mouth like a warning. 
Even though your tone didn't seem friendly, Mingyu smiled as if having heard a joke. It was almost a losing battle, not smiling while looking at him. You wondered exactly how things had changed, how one day you said "I don’t want to be seen with athletes in public places" to suddenly "talking to an athlete in public and still smiling".
“Sorry.” 
Although he was apologizing, you knew that there wasn’t a single bone, or cell, in Mingyu’s body that felt sorry while he was teasing you.
“I should be the one apologizing. I didn’t remember you.”
That’s why you had looked for him, why you had put all your pride aside and sent a message to Seokmin, asking — in the most delicate and unsuspicious way you could imagine — what Mingyu’s last class of the day was. When he seemed too excited about the whole situation, you didn’t even know that someone could be so excited through message, you were forced to ask him not to tell Mingyu that you had contacted him, because you still didn’t know if you would meet him because you had another appointment at almost the same time and might be late. It was a lie, there was nothing, but you didn’t know if you could trust Seokmin to simply not tell him. 
“It’s okay, I’m sure I don’t remember someone I’ve seen every day for years either.”
You smiled, unable to control it this time, and Mingyu smiled along with you as he took another step closer to you. You knew he was too close, rumors would start spreading around campus any second. You knew you should take a step back, and put more space between you two, you knew you should stop smiling like a teenager. But you just couldn’t force yourself to do anything but stand there. 
“You’re making me feel even worse.” 
“Seriously, it’s okay. I’m not going to use it to blackmail you or anything like that.” 
You wanted to ask him what he could blackmail you with, but that was too close to the line of flirting, and that was an imaginary line you refused to cross with him — even though most of the ones you had set had already been crossed, one by one. 
“Thank you,” was all you allowed yourself to say. 
He uncrossed his arms and shoved his hands in his pockets, rocking back on his heels. 
“Now that you know you’ve been unfair to me, for years I might add, and I’ve been benevolent enough to forgive your mistake, could you please stop making my life difficult and let me do the assignment with you, without me having to beg?” 
You threw your head back, laughing out loud. You wanted to tease him, tell him that he was already begging and pleading, but again, too close to flirting. 
“Benevolent? Ah, a man’s ego.” was all you allowed yourself to say as you rolled your eyes at him. 
Mingyu smiled, lightly bumping his shoulder against yours. 
“Come on, cut me some slack” 
You nodded in agreement, rolling your eyes again. 
“Let’s coordinate our free time and meet up again.” 
“Great.”
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“A little green bird told me,” you rolled your eyes before Kira could even continue the sentence, “that you were caught with a certain hockey player.”
“Oh, for the love of God.”
Kira had hooked her arm through yours, her voice cheerful. If voices could have shape and were visible to the naked eye, Kira’s would definitely be bouncing around you. She was almost doing it herself.
You knew someone would have seen you talking, you knew someone saw it and wasn’t happy about it at all, you were sure it was only a matter of time until people were talking about it. You just didn’t think it would be so fast. It had barely been five minutes since you had said goodbye to Mingyu, you knew that that gossip was an inherent part of student life, but the quality and speed were impressive.
“Oh, come on! Tell me what you two talked about, I want to know everything, down to the smallest detail.”
Your friend’s voice was soft, almost like a child whining next to you. Kira knew how much you hated it, more than that, she knew that you would tell her everything, every word, just so that she would finally stop making that pitiful face and that shrilling and completely irritating voice.
“We talked about what I talked about with you,” you sighed, “I apologized for not remembering him, he was annoying and in the end we agreed that I wouldn’t stop him from doing the assignment with me.”
“The little green bird also told me that you were smiling and that you were even blushing while you were talking to him.”
You narrowed your eyes at her. It was true that you had smiled while you were talking to him, you had given up on playing tough. But you were sure that you hadn’t blushed or embarrassed.
“That little bird of yours is wrong. I smiled, yes, but the rest I didn’t do”
“So you didn’t make out in the middle of campus? You didn’t laugh out loud, the kind that makes you throw your head back and close your eyes?”
You simply stared at her, standing in the same place, refusing to move an inch. The student's gossip was fast, impressive, and deceitful.
“Some guy saw you guys and told everyone about it. I was walking by and heard it. They weren’t exactly talking quietly.”
You nodded and started to walk again. You didn’t have anywhere to go, but you didn’t want to stay either. Even if it wasn’t true, you felt like everyone was staring right at you, like you were a circus attraction in the center of the red and white tent.
“Nothing happened. We talked, I smiled, he said something funny and I laughed. That was it.”
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It was a little strange that everyone was at your house at the same time. By everyone, you mean Mingyu and Seokmin, who were there to continue the project, and Jeonghan and Seungcheol, the first because it was his house and the second for god knows what — your best bet was that he had come there to see Mingyu, but he could also simply have wanted to see you embarrassed, it was almost like it was his and Jeonghan's favorite pastime.
You hadn't bothered to tell Jeonghan that the two of them were going home with you after class, you were sure that if you had told him and asked him not to be there, he would simply ignore your request. Besides, the rabbit was out of the hat already, there was nothing left to hide. Seungcheol being there was a surprise, but Mingyu knew him too and you figured he had told Seokmin everything.
Seokmin's behavior was surprising. He had greeted Jeonghan and Seungcheol when he came in, chatted with them for a bit, and then sat down at the table with you. You couldn’t help but wonder if Mingyu had scolded him and just how harsh he had been — though you didn’t think Mingyu and harsh were words that went together.
“Sorry about the other day,” Seokmin said. “I was just surprised.”
You shook your head. You had thought a lot about that day, about how you would have reacted in a very similar way if you had run into someone you were a fan of like that, at someone’s house from college. You had been taken by surprise, and that was one of the things you hated the most. You liked to have everything under control, to have all the cards in your hands, to know all the information before actually getting into a situation. You had made a bet by taking Mingyu and Seokmin home, and you lost. That had nothing to do with Seokmin.
“If I were his fan, I would have reacted the same way,” you assured him, not liking that he had become so quiet and introverted. “And look, they love the attention, so you can go as crazy as you want, you have my approval. And if they complain, you can talk to me.”
Seokmin laughed and turned his attention back to the book open in front of him, reading carefully and taking notes in the notebook next to it.
It wasn’t long before Mingyu entered the room too, still laughing a little at whatever he had talked to Jeonghan and Seungcheol about. He seemed distracted as he sat down and took his cell phone out of his pocket, placing it on the table, face down after checking the notifications.
It was impossible not to think about the conversation you had with Kira days ago, the fact that suddenly the entire college believed that you had hooked up because you had only talked for a few minutes. Could it have been gossip that had spread uncontrollably and thus taken on traits that had nothing to do with reality, or had Mingyu, in all his stereotype of dumb athlete and famous for being a womanizer, spread lies around, bragging about something that hadn't happened?
You hoped it wasn't the second option, not when hating someone for simply existing was just so much work, not when you had started to think he was a cool guy, not when every time you got a message from him you felt like an excited teenager seeing signs where there was supposed to be only a black screen.
"There's something I want to know," the voice came from the living room, distant at first, but getting closer with each syllable.
You were sure that this sudden approach from Seungcheol couldn't bring anything good. Especially when he had a cocky smile on his lips, the kind that you knew, just by looking at him, that he was not going to do anything worth of noticing and at any second someone was going to be embarrassed. And, in this case, you were sure that someone would be you.
Jeonghan was right behind him, his eyes showing that he didn’t know what it was about, but seemingly enjoying the whole situation.
“Seungcheol,” his name came out of your lips in a mix of warning and plea.
“When we were in school, you,” he stopped behind Mingyu, his hands on the younger’s shoulders as he leaned forward, “had the biggest crush on our dear youngest Yoon”
You closed your eyes and wished that someone, anything, would hit Seungcheol in the head with all its strength, to the point he would faint and no longer be able to open his mouth to say a bunch of nonsense.
You turned to Jeonghan, who seemed confused by the whole situation — having been completely taken by surprise by Seungcheol's revelations. His eyes went from you, to Mingyu, to Seungcheol, and back to Mingyu.
Mingyu was pale as if he had just seen a ghost, his eyes wide and his hands frozen in front of his body. The pen that was spinning between his fingers had rolled across the table and stopped in front of Seokmin, who was looking at the situation in complete shock.
“Do you still have a crush on her or is that a thing of the past?”
“Oh for the love of god, Seungcheol, shut up.”
Even Jeonghan, who loved a joke, a tease to the very last second, was uncomfortable with the situation. He didn't know where to put his hands or who to look at. Mingyu seemed to want to sink into his chair. Seokmin had his chin glued to his chest, his eyes completely focused on the open book.
“Dude”
Jeonghan slapped Seungcheol on the head, who was just laughing at the situation as if everything was a big joke to him and probably it really was. The only problem was that no one was laughing with him.
“That's a valid question! I'm sure you're curious too”
You pushed the chair you were sitting in back hard, the friction of the metal on the floor probably leaving marks that would be there forever.
“Seriously, what's your problem?”
You grabbed the hood of Seungcheol's coat and pulled him out of the room, while he complained and made a fuss.
“You're strangling me!”
You rolled your eyes.
“At least you'll stop talking shit”
You stopped only when you were close to the door and could reach the doorknob with your free hand.
“It’s just a joke!” he tried to defend himself.
“You don’t have the right to come to my house and embarrass my friends, so if you don’t know how to behave, you can leave.”
You turned your back to him for a second, just long enough to grab his bag from the couch and throw it into his arms.
“You can’t kick me out, it’s not even your house.”
You took a deep breath and closed your eyes.
“Jeonghan?” you said without turning to look at your brother, your eyes never leaving Seungcheol.
“It’s her house, yeah.”
You raised your eyesbrows at him, mimicking him.
“See? Great, you can go now.”
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Needless to say, the rest of the night had been pretty close to a funeral. Jeonghan had holed up in his room and you suspected he was either asleep or dead, because he hadn't made a single sound and hadn't come out for anything.
Mingyu didn't even dare to look at you, much less talk with you. A night that was already embarrassing enough because you still had college rumors swimming around in your brain had gotten even worse because, at some point during the night, Seungcheol had decided, in a not-so-casual way, to drop the bomb that Mingyu had a crush on you.
And no matter how much you thought about it, how many ways you tried to analyze and remember those years, it didn't make sense.
You were sure you had never spoken to Mingyu, that you hadn't spoken directly to him before. The first time you talked was a few weeks before, in college. Even if you didn't remember him, you were certain you hadn't of it. You always made a point of staying away from Jeonghan's teammates, your brother made a point of keeping them away too.
That old story, when one doesn't want to, two don't fight. And in this case, neither you nor Jeonghan had any interest in you getting closer to his teammates.
In your head, it didn't make sense. Seungcheol was just talking a bunch of nonsense because he could, because he knew you never had the urge to argue with him. With Jeonghan? Silly arguments were normal, you sent your brother to hell as easily as you fell asleep after a long day. But not with Seungcheol, because you knew he loved the fights, he had fun, you always chose to just let him talk until he got tired. It was one thing to tease you and another one, entirely too different, to do it with your friends.
Logically, you knew that at some point in the past Mingyu had been friends with him too, but you also knew that that friendship had died the moment Seungcheol graduated from school.
Seokmin was the only one who dared to say something, completely focused on the assignment, but it was obvious that he was trying to break the ice of the situation. Trying and failing.
“I think it’s time for us to go,” Seokmin said as soon as he heard the sound of a door coming down the hallway and a second later Jeonghan walked towards the kitchen.
“Yeah, it’s kinda late” Mingyu agreed and stood up.
There was no way to disagree with them, it was late and the mood had gone down the drain. Prolonging the situation would almost be a form of torture for the three of you.
“Sorry about Seungcheol”
You didn’t know what to do with your hands. You wished you had pockets so you could have somewhere to hide them, but the leggings and shirt you were wearing didn’t provide any hiding spots.
“It’s okay, really” Mingyu assured you “He’s always been like this”
Seokmin went into the living room, but you and Mingyu remained standing there, barely breathing. You wanted to ask if it was true, if he really had a crush on you, or if Seungcheol was just trying to annoy someone and chose Mingyu. You also didn't understand what he had said, about Seungcheol “always being like this”. Did he mean annoying or someone who teased his friends with embarrassing secrets? Either answer would be correct but you wanted to hear it from him.
You wanted to ask, but you didn't have the courage. If it was true, it was bad and if it was a lie, it was worse. If it was true, you would feel even worse for not remembering him right away. If it was a lie, it would be bad you had liked to hear, when you knew you shouldn't care.
“I don't know if it's a good time,” he said, “but there's a game on Friday. You could go and take Kira with you.”
You were shaking your head before he could even finish speaking.
“It can’t, I already have a thing already” 
“Oh, okay” he nodded and turned to the living room. “Bye, Jeonghan.” 
Your brother appeared in the living room, putting his phone in his pocket, but looking like he had heard the entire conversation between you and Mingyu. 
“Bye.” 
You closed the door when you saw Mingyu and Seokmin enter the elevator. You were ready to hide in your room and try, even if it was impossible, to understand what had happened that night, but of course, Jeonghan had other plans. He was leaning against the wall in the hallway, his arms crossed over his chest, an inquisitive look on his face. 
“Don’t start,” you warned. 
Everything that had happened, not only that night but also during the week, had simply been too much for you. You had just gotten used to the idea of ​​having Mingyu around, you had started to like having him around. But then everything happened so fast. A laugh on the sidewalk had become an unbridled make-out, a smile a declaration of love. 
The rumors had gotten worse since that first day. Kira talked about them carefully, mainly because she knew you didn't want to be associated with athletes in any way, but she never failed to tell you anything about what was going on. That's only you begged her to tell you, otherwise it would be like in those cliché movies, the girl walking down the hallway and discovering all the rumors that were going around about her because she overheard someone's conversation. 
And it wasn't like you hadn't gotten stares in the hallways, but the truth is that you had gotten used to them when you were still a teenager. Getting into that same skin of an apathetic, uncaring person was pretty easy. 
"Why didn't you accept going to his game? You like it. It would have been fun” 
And on top of that, as the cherry on the cake, because of course life couldn't just make things a little easier for you, there was that whole shit show from a few hours before. Even though you hated the situation with a passion, you knew there was some truth to it. At that moment, you felt, once again, as if you were still 15 years old, sitting in the living room at home, enduring whatever nonsense Seungcheol decided to say.
Seungcheol was the kind of guy who made jokes out of real situations. In that sense, he was the complete opposite of Jeonghan. Your brother came up with impossible situations, bordering on insanity, and spoke about them with such conviction that you felt compelled to believe him. Seungcheol, on the other hand, took small facts and distorted them, or just exaggerated them in some way.
At that moment, sitting at that table, watching Mingyu's face become completely devoid of any color, you knew it was true. Maybe, yes, an exaggerated version of the truth, but a truth nonetheless.
“Jeonghan, it's just… I can’t”
You walked past him. That scene was too familiar and despite the theme of the conversation being different, you didn't want to have to go through the same situation again.
“Because of me?”
“Because of him.”
You hated seeing that look on Jeonghan’s face like he blamed himself for everything that was wrong with you. Daddy issues? Mommy issues? Apparently, you had brother issues.
“You know, one day I hope you stop caring so much about what people think, because you’re barely living your life right now, hoping that someone, someday, won’t care.”
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Jeonghan's words floated through your mind for days. You found yourself standing in the middle of the campus several times, analyzing the people who were walking from one side to the other, some in a hurry, others talking to each other, many too distracted with phones in their hands to pay attention to what was happening around them. 
None of them, no matter how much part of your brain said otherwise, seemed to care about you. 
Even though you had been the main topic of conversation for a few days, everything changed when someone on the football team got drunk enough to kneel on a bar table crying, declaring his undying love to a girlfriend from elementary school. You had hidden yourself for so long, away from everything that you considered to be a problem, that you had forgotten how things worked. 
No one really cared — no one might be a little too much to say, but very few people looked at you and cared about what was happening. It was much easier to understand the situation than to start acting differently, but you hoped it was a start, however small it was. 
Your phone started to vibrate in your hand, a second later the screen lit up, and the word mom flashed on the screen. You knew what she wanted. You had been avoiding her calls and messages for a couple days. But you knew you couldn't pretend you were in class anymore, come up with some lame excuse to ignore her. She had even called Jeonghan and asked, or rather ordered, him to tell you to call her. You had avoided it as much as possible.
“Hi, mom”
“Ah, you finally remembered you have a mom”
You could imagine the exact scene: your mother walking back and forth, her hair tied into a low ponytail, gesturing before dropping her hand and slapping her thigh. You couldn't help but smile when you heard the clear sound of footsteps, followed by a slap.
“Sorry, I've been busy. You know how it is.”
“I can always talk to your brother just fine”
You knew she didn’t mean anything, you knew it wasn’t a comparison — at least not a conscious one — but the sentence was received with a sting anyway.
“That’s because Jeonghan has a schedule for literally everything. I study until I nearly blackout or my brain turns to pudding, which ever comes first.”
You walked to nearest bench and sat down with a sigh.
“Have you been sleeping? Eating enough? You and your brother are terrible cooks, and I know he eats at the club most of the time, but what about you? I can come by every week and bring you food, it’s not a problem.”
She kept talking nonstop, you were sure she was already making a list of everything she needed to make enough food for a week. 
“Mom!” you said loudly, loud enough for the girl next to you, who had headphones on, to look at you. You smiled awkwardly, lowering your head a little in apology. “Mom, we’re fine. We learned how to cook enough to survive.”
“Noodles are not a real meal.”
You rolled your eyes.
“We have vegetables, rice, and meat at home, Mom. I went shopping yesterday,” you said before she could say anything.
“One of these days I’ll show up and surprise you.”
“And on that day, you’ll find the fridge full and food ready,” you said jokingly.
You were silent for a few seconds, until she spoke again, this time her tone much more cautious.
“I know you don’t like it very much, that you’d rather be anywhere else, doing anything else, than participating in this, but just this year, couldn’t you consider going to the hospital gala? I know it’s the middle of the semester, that you have a lot of things to do, that you’re looking for an internship, but it’s just one night and…”
Even with all the differences you had with your mother, you didn’t like seeing — in this case, hearing — her begging for anything, much less for your presence at an event that you knew was important to the family. Ever since you started refusing to go to it, your mother never forced you to go. She insisted a little on the first year and asked if you hadn’t changed your mind at the last minute. But never like that. For whatever reason, she wanted you at the party, and by extension, you knew your father did too.
“I’ll go, Mom. I’m going to buy a dress tomorrow.”
Despite the distance, you knew your mother’s breath had caught in her throat, that she was trying her best to control herself. She liked parties and glamor and she liked it even more when you attended. And you liked it too, until… until you decided to avoid it.
You had to start somewhere, this whole thing of not caring what people thought. It was best to start somewhere at least somewhat familiar, right?
“I… set… I have…” she cleared her throat and began again “I made hair and makeup appointments for me. You want me to schedule it for you too?”
Her voice was almost shaking, making you feel even worse. Had you alienated yourself from mother to the point where she was shaking just because you agreed to go to a party?
“Could you make an appointment for a manicure too? I need to get my nails done.”
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He walked into the room, adjusting his tie around his neck, laughing at whatever his sister had said, hating the feeling of being suffocated. He wanted, almost desperately, to take off the damn tie, but he knew better than to. His sister would laugh at the situation, but his parents, especially his father, would not be happy about it. It's not like he disliked the event itself, but he hated having to pretend. Pretending that he and his parents got along well and that the smiles they gave when someone complimented Mingyu were genuine. 
It was all completely and utterly fake. 
The truth was that Mingyu barely spoke to his parents. He didn't know when was the last time he had talked to them, just to talk. He didn't know what it was like to ask if everything was okay just because he cared. He didn't know what it was like to send a picture of a place, or anything, to his mom because he could, because he wanted to like he always saw Seokmin do. 
He always tried his best to keep his distance. Maybe being so far away from his parents wouldn't make him feel like a complete failure every time he thought about them. Logically, he knew that wasn't the case, he knew he wasn't a failure, but he was a disappointment to his parents. So he kept his distance, it was easier.
He still attended events like that to keep up appearances, that was an important thing to them. Not having received support, affection, or love from his parents since he was 17? Insignificant compared to the need to maintain the idea of ​​a united and happy family in front of their friends.
In the end, he didn't mind going to events like that, supposedly for charity. He liked seeing his sister and deep down he liked seeing his parents' friends praising him and saying how amazing it was that he had a career completely independent of his parents and even without their help.
Mingyu liked to think that his father had opened up about not having helped him at all in an attempt to seem tough and smarter than his son, but that only made him seem bitter every time his career as an athlete was the subject of conversation. Besides, he could see his school friends again. So it was a win-win situation: his parents kept up appearances and he had fun reminiscing about his school days as if it had been 20 years instead of just 3.
“If you keep pulling that tie, it’ll rip,” his sister said, laughing as she forced Mingyu’s hand down.
“It’s suffocating”
“Oh, you poor baby,” she pouted mockingly at Mingyu.
Mingyu shook his head and turned to the rest of the room, looking for a familiar face. He quickly found Jeonghan and Seungcheol but decided not to approach them as he normally would. If it had been last year’s party, Mingyu would have talked to them both, but this time he chose to stay in the same place.
That night at Jeonghan’s house still left a bitter taste in Mingyu’s mouth. He had a plan, which might not have worked — that probably wouldn’t have worked — but if one day you found out about his teenage crush, Mingyu wanted you to find out by him, and not through some guy who had brought it up for no reason. He wanted to ask you out, to go little by little until you felt comfortable with him. But Seungcheol did him the huge favor of throwing everything out the window for a joke.
It’s like that old saying: I lose the friend, but I don’t lose the joke. And Mingyu wasn’t his friend, not now or back in school, so truthfully there was no loss for Seungcheol.
And then he saw you.
For a second he thought it was a mirage. It had been years since you had last been to that kind of event. Your last one was Mingyu’s first. He thought he was imagining things, that he was so crazy wanting to talk to you that he had started to imagine you in places you weren’t.
He watched as you walked right past Seungcheol, even when he tried to talk to you and stopped next to Jeonghan. Your expression was serious, a little uncomfortable, but beautiful. 
The strapless dress slid down your body, almost as if it had been molded to your curves perfectly, tailored just for you. Your hair was loose over your back, just two strands framing your face. And your lips... lips painted in the sexiest shade of red he had ever seen.
Forget the little crush he had back in high school, this didn't even compare. It was a goddamn waterfall. Mingyu felt like he was standing next to one too with the way his heart was beating so loudly and deafening in his ears. 
It was official, he was lost. He didn't know what to do. It was the first time he had felt this nervous in your presence. Before, it had been like butterflies flying around in his stomach, that kind of fun anxiety, the one that makes one giddy and excited. 
He tugged at his tie again and grabbed a glass from the tray of a waiter who passed by. He didn't know what it was and also he didn't care, he needed something to wet his throat. The liquid went down bitterly, burning. The surprise made him have a small coughing fit.
Suddenly it was as if all eyes had turned to him, including yours. You smiled slowly as Minseo patted Mingyu on the back, trying to help, but making the situation even worse.
You quickly turned to Jeonghan, saying something for a second before walking towards Mingyu. With each step you took, he felt like his heart was beating faster and faster, to the point of almost exploding in his chest.
Over your shoulder, he saw Jeonghan smile and give him a thumbs up.
"Go for a walk," he said to his sister, without taking his eyes off you.
Did he say a waterfall? Forget it, it was more like an entire ocean.
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Unconsciously, you smoothed your dress at least twice as you walked towards Mingyu. In a place full of so many theoretically important people, much more important than the two of you, it was very easy to go to him. Taking all those steps wasn't scary at all.
The feeling was completely different from that one time you had talked in college. That day, you had waited for him, your fingers trembling a little because you were in a place where anyone could see you. However, at that moment, you didn't feel any kind of nervousness.
Maybe, there was some nervousness, but the good kind. When you're excited to do something, the kind that you were sure would bring good things. You liked to think that the good thing at the moment was Mingyu.
"You look, wow... stunning."
He smiled and it was as if the breath had been taken from you, as if for a whole second your lungs forgot their purpose, forgot that they were supposed to push air into your body.
“Look at you, using pretty words,” you somehow found your voice again.
You tried your best to hide the nervousness you felt, the slight tremor in your voice. You didn’t know why you were feeling that way. You had seen Mingyu so many times, before and after you found out who he was. You had seen him in a pair of sweats and a t-shirt walking around campus; you were at the bar when he walked in wearing an all-denim look and glasses on the back of his head — you remembered finding that way of wearing glasses ridiculous, but you hated to admit that it made sense on him —, you had seen him walking around with his cap on backward.
You had always made a point of staying as far away from him and the circle he frequented as possible, but you could never deny that he was gorgeous. But there, in that moment, in that a black suit, his tie a little crooked and the most magnificent smile you had ever seen, you thought that maybe you didn’t need to force yourself to be away from him all the time.
“Just to impress a beautiful woman.”
You smiled, even though you tried to contain yourself, pressing your lips together. But you knew it was useless. There wasn't a single cell in your body that didn't like the attention you were getting, that didn't like his compliments.
“You haven't been to one of these in years.”
You nodded and looked over your shoulder. Your mother was chatting animatedly with a colleague, her eyes shining as she held out her hand and a second later your father was beside her.
You had all these differences with your parents, things that you disliked about them, and that made you keep your distance from them, but the truth is that you loved them.
When you arrived at your parent's house to get ready earlier that day, your dress in the bag, your backpack almost falling off your shoulders, it was as if you had been transported to your house 8 years before. But it was also different.
You half expected some comment, anything, no matter how small, that could be a comparison with Jeonghan — how even though he was completely busy with work if he didn't have a game or any specific schedule, he would always go to events, while you did everything to avoid it. But the comment never came.
Your mother sat by your side all day, asking you questions about yourself, about college, about the internship. She never mentioned Jeonghan, and when you tried to mention him, the only answer you got was “I don’t want to know about your brother, I want to know about you.” 
You wanted to cry when you heard those words. It was the kind of thing you laways wanted to hear from her. The confirmation that you didn’t need to be compared to Jeonghan, that it was okay not to live in his shadow all the time. 
“Do you come every year?” 
“Yeah, my mother and sister would forgive me if I missed it.” 
You nodded with a low noise in the back of your throat and took a step forward, your body a little too close to Mingyu’s, your fingers closing around his tie and pulling it slightly to the side until it was aligned with the buttons of his shirt. 
You didn’t know what possessed you to do that. All your sane neurons, which hadn’t melted when he smiled at you for the first time, screamed that you were one step away from insanity, that you were, in fact, already crazy. You were sure that nurses the size of refrigerators would show up and take you to the psychiatric ward of the hospital at any second.
You licked your lips and took a step back, avoiding looking directly at Mingyu. 
“It was the first time my mother managed to convince me in years” you admitted. 
You looked around, looking for a waiter, wishing one would materialize in front of you, just so you could have something to hold on to, but have something to do with his hands, but there was none around. 
“I'll thank her as soon as I see her.” 
“You're a shameless flirt, aren't you?” 
“Only when there's a gorgeous woman in front of me.”
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The rest of the night went by smoothly, without any temporary bouts of insanity. There were a few moments, but you managed to control yourself every time. You managed to control the urge you had when you were next to him, to simply hold his hand. 
Your mother was a great help, taking you away from Mingyu now and then to introduce you to some friends and coworkers. Jeonghan was by your side every time you weren't with Mingyu, like a bodyguard. You wondered if he was acting that way because you had said those things to him before; and if your mother's change in attitude was also related. Despite it all, although you had been shown off for part of the night, you had had fun. It could also have been the alcohol talking. 
You had accepted a few more glasses than you should have. You were far from drunk, but you were certainly not in your sanest state. However, the alcohol brought a wave of courage to you, which until then had been completely unknown. 
Towards the end of the gala, after dinner, when some of the guests had already started to leave, you saw Mingyu at the table next to yours. His parents sat in front of him, his sister next to him, and some people you had no idea who they were sat on at the edges. Mingyu kept his head low, nodding now and then. He seemed desperate to get out of there.
Before reason could prevail, you stood up and walked towards him. You placed your hand on his shoulder and leaned your body forward until your face was close to his.
“Can you help me with something?”
You didn't notice the tremor in Mingyu's voice when he asked to be excused because your whole body was shaking too. You smiled at his parents and turned towards the exit, needing some fresh air.
A new wave of tremors and electricity ran through your body when Mingyu put his hand on your lower back. He was neither guiding nor rushing you. His hand was simply there, lightly. He pulled the door open for you and somehow still managed to keep his hand on you. 
You liked it, the weight of it, his presence there.
"Did something happen?" he asked when you were far enough from the door and prying ears, letting his hand drop at the side of his body.
You just shook your head, wrapping your arms around yourself, suddenly missing the warmth from inside. 
"No, you just seemed to be suffering" you half smiled, half laughed, suddenly feeling a little pathetic for assuming things. 
Mingyu smiled at you then, removing his jacket and dropping it over your shoulder.
"Thank you. If it weren't for you, this night would have sucked entirely"
It was silent for a minute, neither one of you doing anything at all. You were simply standing side by side, his elbow brushing yours from time to time while he rocked on his heels. 
It was most definitely the alcohol talking, it had to be because there was no way you'd ever say what you were about to say if it weren't for it. Never, in good and normal conscience you'd have been bold enough. And yet, there you were. 
"Can I ask you something?" 
You turned to him and got a nod as an answer, his eyes expectant and curious. You forced the words out before you had the chance to stop yourself. 
"That day, at my place, Seungcheol mentioned you having a crush on me. Was that true?"
There was a beat of silence, as Mingyu's smile slowly dropped. It was enough to make you regret the question, almost enough to make you regret the whole thing. Seeing Mingyu at the gala was a pleasant surprise, his presence was something you were grateful for during the night. You didn't mean to ruin it at the last minute. 
You blamed the alcohol, though it had very little to do with your decision. You had been curious and wanted to ask Jeonghan about it but didn't dare to do so, not when you knew that your brother would be able to read right through you. 
You blamed Seungcheol and his constant puppy eyes throughout the night, following your every move. His clear apologetic look, though no sorry words were said. His pride was too big for that. 
You blamed yourself too, for being curious about it. You were just fine when he was just a guy from college, someone you'd see now and then in a poster, or someone you heard of in passing. 
You blamed Mingyu too.
"Yeah, it was," he finally answered, sinking his hands into his pants pockets.
Screw it, you thought, if it's raining I might as well get drenched.
"And now?"
You held your breath, waiting for his answer. 
"Still is," he said, voice soft, this almost apologetic smile on his lips. 
You closed your eyes for just a second, somehow lavishing on his answer. There was a small smile on your lips as you turned to him, gripping his tie and pulling him down until you could press your lips to his. 
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sxcretricciardo · 2 days
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The Monster They Never Saw Coming
The paddock was unusually quiet as you sat in the corner of the Red Bull garage, helmet resting on your lap. You could hear the distant hum of engines and the chatter of engineers, but none of it really penetrated the storm brewing in your mind. It was race weekend, and you were steeling yourself for battle, but not just against the other drivers—against the weight of the past, something you carried with you to every race.
Max’s voice broke through your thoughts, soft and careful. “You alright?”
You looked up at him, his eyes filled with concern. Max Verstappen, the man the world called a monster—the driver with ice in his veins and fire in his heart. He understood. Maybe more than anyone else ever could.
“I’m fine,” you lied, offering a small smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.
He frowned but didn’t press. He knew when to leave it, just like you did when he clammed up, the memories of his own childhood surfacing at the worst times. The two of you shared more than just a competitive spirit—you shared scars, the kind that weren’t visible but ached nonetheless.
---
You hadn’t always been the tough, unshakeable driver they knew today. Once, you’d been a little girl with dreams far too big for the small karting world you came from. Like Max, your childhood had been brutal, molded by a father who had seen potential in you and then used it as an excuse to break you down, piece by piece.
You could still remember the worst of it—the day that defined everything. It was a small karting championship, one of the many you raced in. You had been pushing yourself, heart pounding, hands aching on the steering wheel, but something was off. Maybe it was the nerves, or maybe it was the pressure of your father’s expectations. Either way, you finished second, and it wasn’t good enough. Not for him.
After the race, he didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to. His silence was louder than any insult he could’ve hurled. You followed him to the car, your heart pounding in your chest, waiting for the inevitable lecture, but instead, he got in and drove off. Without you.
You had stood there for what felt like an eternity, disbelief and shame washing over you. The karting track was in the middle of nowhere, and your home? Almost 20 miles away. But you knew what this was—another one of his punishments. Another way to make you feel like you weren’t good enough.
So, you walked.
The sun had dipped low in the sky as you trudged along the side of the road, the weight of your helmet in your hands, tears you refused to let fall burning behind your eyes. You were 14. Just a kid. But there was no room for softness in your father’s world. He had one goal: to make you the best, even if it meant breaking you in the process.
By the time you made it home, feet blistered and body exhausted, the rage had taken root. Not just at him, but at yourself. You’d vowed then and there that you would never lose again. Not for him, but for you. You would be the best—untouchable, unbeatable.
They called Max the monster that Jos Verstappen created. But they hadn’t seen the monster your father had made you into.
---
As the years passed, you climbed the ranks of motorsport, from karting to single-seaters and eventually into Formula 1. You didn’t just survive; you thrived. Every race, every lap was another chance to prove that you were more than what he’d tried to make you believe. You weren’t just good—you were unstoppable. And yet, no matter how many races you won, how many records you shattered, the shadow of your past lingered.
It was during those lonely years in F2 when you first met Max. He was a rising star in F1, already turning heads with his aggressive driving style and his unrelenting determination. You’d crossed paths at a karting event, a rare break in your racing schedules. You hadn’t expected much from the interaction, but there was something about him—something familiar in the way he carried himself.
It wasn’t long before you learned why.
Max’s father had been just as brutal, just as relentless. Jos had pushed him to the edge, forced him to harden himself into the fearless competitor he was now. But while the world saw only the sharp edges, you saw the cracks, the places where the pressure had left scars.
It was strange, how quickly you two had connected. Two broken souls who understood each other in ways no one else could. You weren’t the type to let people in easily—neither was he—but somehow, it just worked. You could sit in silence, the weight of your unspoken pasts hanging between you, or you could talk for hours, venting about the fathers who had shaped you into the fighters you were.
“I’m never going to treat my kids the way he treated me,” Max had once said, the two of you lying in bed after a long day. His voice had been quiet, but there was a steel beneath the words. “I won’t do it.”
You had looked over at him, understanding completely. “Me neither. I don’t care how good he thought it made me. It’s not worth it.”
Max had turned to you then, his hand reaching out to brush a stray hair from your face. “We’re not them. We’ll never be them.”
---
Now, sitting in the garage, you could feel the familiar churn of emotions bubbling to the surface. Race days always did this to you—stirred up memories you’d rather forget. But that was the price you paid for being here. You couldn’t escape the past, no matter how fast you drove.
Max crouched in front of you, his eyes searching yours. “Hey,” he said softly, pulling you from your thoughts. “You’ve got this. You always do.”
You let out a breath, nodding. “I know.”
But he wasn’t convinced. “What’s going on?”
For a moment, you hesitated, but then the words tumbled out. “I was just thinking about… him. My dad.”
Max’s jaw tightened. He knew the stories, knew the way your father had treated you. It made him angry, the same way it made you angry when he talked about Jos.
“He’s not here,” Max said firmly. “He doesn’t get to control you anymore.”
You nodded, knowing he was right but still feeling the weight of it all pressing down on you. Max stood, holding out his hand to you. “Come on. Let’s go for a walk.”
The two of you wandered through the paddock, the tension easing with each step. You didn’t need to say much—just being with him was enough to remind you that you weren’t alone in this. You had each other, and no matter what happened on the track, you knew that you were more than the monsters your fathers had tried to create.
As you approached the starting grid, Max squeezed your hand. “We’ll show them,” he said, a small smile playing on his lips. “We’ll show them that we’re better than they ever were.”
You nodded, the fire in your chest reigniting. “Yeah,” you agreed. “We will.”
And with that, you strapped on your helmet, climbed into your car, and prepared to unleash the beast they’d never seen coming.
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