#this is from that set that you were asking about

[ds-angel1]

dealer!rafe x brainwashed!reader

cw: mention of SMUT(18+), drugs and pills, rafe lowkey runs her life (and i need that(so so bad))

a/n: drabble that i literally got from a dream (if anyone has done something like this before and i´ve just forgotten, credits to them(can never trust my dreams))

Dealer!Rafe didn’t meant to keep you. Not at first at least.

The first time he saw you, it was supposed to be nothing. Another night, another party, another girl too pretty for her good. Your denim shorts rode too high on your thighs, a spaghetti strap slipping from your shoulder like an invitation, and you looked at him like you knew exactly what you were doing. Like you had the slightest clue.

You didn’t.

He figured you’d be an easy score, a quick sell, a quicker fuck, someone to forget by morning. But then you pushed through the crowd, all honeyed laughter and half-lidded eyes, and asked him what he had. Not shy, not hesitant, but like you belonged in this world like you’d done this before.

Like you already belonged to him.

He should’ve known then. Should’ve clocked the way his pulse jumped when your fingers brushed his palm, the way his breath caught when you bit your lip, pupils already blown wide. But it wasn’t until you tossed back the pills without a second thought, no caution, no questions, that he realized what you were. Perfect.

It was a game. A pretty girl with a reckless streak, someone eager and pliant beneath him, high off whatever he fed you. But then he started learning things. About the mess you called home, the way you barely scraped by. How you were always searching, always aching for something just out of reach.

That’s when the idea took root.

Rafe could take care of you. Fix you. Own you.

So he reeled you in, slow and deliberate. He made sure you only bought from him, made sure the come-downs hit just hard enough that you came back, eyes wide and desperate. And when you started spending more time in his bed than your own, when your things started showing up at his place, one shirt, then a toothbrush, then a drawer full of clothes, you never even realized it was happening.

Until it was too late.

Until you needed him.

The day you moved in, there was no discussion, no formal agreement. Just a slow suffocation disguised as safety. He watched as you set your bags down, as your fate sealed itself with the quiet click of the door shutting behind you.

That’s when the rules became clear.

"Act up, and you get nothing," he told you, voice smooth, patient. Like he was doing you a favor. "No, ‘m serious, baby. You wanna misbehave? Then no blow. No pills. Nothin’."

And it worked.

Because when you were good, when you melted for him, hazy and pliant, when your lips parted on soft, gasping pleas when you stared up at him so far gone you barely remembered your name. Letting him do whatever his sick mind desired.

He controlled everything about you. Well he called it “takin’ care of my sweet girl.” He chose what you ate, what you wore, where you went. His own little doll.

He’d won. You were his and followed his every order, and he fucking loved it. He could turn you into a pliant free use puddle with only a few pills and puffs of whatever shit he was smoking, letting him fuck you so hard you were either almost sober or almost seizing.

Sure, your quality of life had declined rapidly since you’d met your so called “savour”, but you had structure and you had “love”. A sick, twisted, manipulative version of it, but when you were high off your mind and half naked in his bed you were able to convince yourself it was love.

[emiqip]

Pt.3 Apocalyptic Ponyo AU ft. Shockwave and his... kids. @keferon

For all they've been through together, this had to be the dumbest thing they've ever done- which is saying something, considering not too many months ago they collectively decided to raid the city's garbage dump not taking into account that a) there would be some kind of security system (who defends trash anyway? weirdos) b) the smell and c) the local population of possums they inevitably bothered. 

All in all, that could have even been considered a good day in Skywarp's book- yeah, they didn't find anything, they all smelled pretty fucking terrible without any way of washing the stench away and they were covered in bite marks, hoping none of those things had rabies- but they laughed and joked about it for weeks after. 

This situation, however, was anything but funny. 

Following Blue's little stunt, the remaining children left at base were informed to meet at the nearest shore, where the youngest's new... friend? Still waited for them. A few minutes of shock and surprise from both parties after, they finally decided on how to fix whatever this was. The plan was simple too: separate Blue from the sea freak, gather all of their stuff and set off to the sparkly horizon, leaving all of this behind their backs- no strings attached. 

Obviously that would've been too good to be true, something had to go wrong: of course their youngest still refused to leave, even when Damus finally gained some courage and went over to pick Blue up by force- too bad the little menace immediately started ugly sobbing. Not only that, the twins got over their fear pretty quickly, replacing it with the raw force of curiosity little kids have for anything ugly, sticky and new. Cue Soundwave being assigned as their official babysitter lest the two would sprint and try to climb the fish like a pair of coked-up squirrels. And, yeah, not the smoothest outcome but hey! Now they could, you know, leave. 

He was so so wrong. As soon as the Thing noticed they were walking away it started  chirping at them over and over, like it was calling for them to get back. Kinda sad, but they could ignore it (unless you were Blue- still crying in TC's arms while making grabby hands at the mer), what alarmed them was the fact that it started to use all of its upper body strength and try to slowly beach itself in the goal of reaching their group. Needless to say the situation called for a new plan fast- even in ten, considering its size, they still weren't enough to push it back in to the water. 

The solution was just to camp out on the shore and find a way out of this in the morning. To the absolute delight of their youngest, who decided that for the night he would be sleeping with the freak, and unsurprisingly the twins only followed by starting to poke and prod at the being, who seemed to enjoy the attention as much as them. Windcharger joined their little huddle too for the evening, explaining himself with a little shrug of his shoulders and a quick, "He's warm and I'm cold- you can freeze for one more night for all I care," and left it at that. That traitor.

Oh well, this would soon be over anyway. 

\\\

Two. Weeks. 

Two whole weeks passed since this whole charade was supposed to be over, but instead he found himself being ferried away on the wettest, most fucked up recreation of the 'Magic School Bus' he's ever seen.  Worst of all Ms. Fizzle was replaced by an oversize pancake with gills. 

This was supposed to be the closest thing to a compromise: the kids got to keep their fish and the others got a free ride trough the apocalypse- pretty sweet if you asked him.

They were slowly making their way towards what was once the busiest side of the city: he remembers coming here with his brothers and getting overwhelmed every time by the sheer amount of people bustling around. Both locals and tourists blended perfectly in a vortex of voices, faces and mannerisms. For a boy who lived at the edge, this was exhilarating. 

But the best part of this chaos were the shops windows: there was one who was squeezed between a tiny flea shop and a bakery owned by a couple of kind old people- the window's space was taken by a plethora of several vintage televisions, each of them displaying something different- his favorite old show was filmed at their local aquarium and had as protagonist a young orca mer, chirping away happily at the camera, while the crowd gasped in awe at the adorable display. 

He saw his face stare right back at him from the surface of the water. Tired eyes, sunken cheeks and hair grown matted and way too long- what would he do to reverse it all and go back to their shitty daily life. 

From the front of their unusual mean of transportation, he could hear the youngest kids screaming and laughing, more likely pestering the mer like a swarm of particularly persistent flies. Being too focused on eavesdropping the racket, he didn't notice Damus approaching him on unsteady feet. 

"I saw a billboard a few minutes ago: big bright and with the directions to the biggest mall in the city- I'd say we are overdue for a scavenger hunt to restock our resources, what do you say?" The older asked, before staring off into the distance. 

"Sure, why the hell not? I'm pretty sick and tired of eating only fish anyway- cheers to the big guy for catching it for us though." He absentmindedly patted the mer, earning a pleased rumble up ahead.

With a brief nod of assent, he took off to most likely talk to Skids- the teen, after a very intense game of charades, managed to establish a method to communicate with their newest addition, he was even successful in teaching the fishman some very simple words, and in turn the mer taught him some of his language: it was mainly made up of sounds and gestures but Skids, being the fast learner that he was, took to them pretty quickly- a shame that he never had the chance to attend a public school, he would've at the top of his classes for sure. 

He felt the mass he was sitting on stir briefly, as the massive mer changed the course of their journey. The scenery around them slowly changed: hills of crumbled and deformed buildings gave way to a forest of skyscrapers looming over all of them like giant concrete pillars. Since the wave hit, putting a stop to all human activity, nature was steadily taking over- vines descended from a top of buildings, patches of seaweed and sea flora were dotting the submerged asphalted streets. 

They watched in awe as schools of brilliant colored tropical fish darted past them- he heard Blue squeal along the lines of, "Sir. Pancake! Look, it's you!" when a familiar looking shark swam past them.  He could vaguely recognize some of the roads and alleyways, now nearly completely covered by corals and anemones, housing a variety of oceanic wildlife.

Despite everything, there was still beauty left in this abandoned world. 

\\\ 

The dark gaping maw leading inside the mall stared right back at them. Having no way to access the lower levels, since they were long lost under the waves, they had to find another way in- one of the walls had luckily given away to the erosion of the water, leaving the perfect entry point for them and their fishy companion. They were all well aware the mer wasn't too keen on leaving them alone for too long without becoming restless, so this was a win-win situation.

As the shadows progressively engulfed them, the smell of dampness and mold welcomed them inside. He felt TC's hand grabbing his right sleeve to catch his attention, as he turned around he saw his brother pointing at the water with his mouth agape. 

What he saw made him inhale quickly in complete surprise- a pool of neon blue light surrounded them from all sides, swaying gently at the rhythm of the mer's movements. 

"...bioluminescent algae- read about them once, but I never thought I would ever see them for myself." He heard TC whisper softly at him. 

"Woah, this is so fucking cool..." Soft murmurs of assent from his siblings filled the silence he left behind, as they all watched the water entranced by the spectacle of lights. 

They were all suddenly woken up from their trance by a brisk movement from their means of transport that almost made all of them topple over into the water. Apparently 'Sides decided he wanted to touch the pretty blue lights, nearly taking a dip for himself if the mer didn't glance over and quickly caught the little kid with one of his huge webbed hands. At least the pest had the decency to look away sheepishly at the mer's silent but admonishing expression. 

Without any other close calls, they made it to what was once the food court- a huge circular dome where the pavement had partially collapsed, leaving behind a slope where dry land and water could meet, the perfect place to finally get down and stretch their legs after hours of swimming around. Trailbreaker reached into his ridiculously big backpack and started passing around a bunch of flashlights- the teen liked to be prepared for anything, even if that meant bringing around some additional weight. 

The moment his feet met the ground he let out a happy sigh- exploring the sunken city was great and all, but nothing could compare to the chance of finally burning all of his residual energy. Damus clapped his hands to get everyone's attention and started his usual spiel before any resource-gathering trip. 

"Alright everyone, you know the drill: six of us are going in pair to explore the building- pick up only things you think will come in hand, leave everything else. Do not take more then you need, we are not the only survivors around, so let's not doom other people only because we felt a little bit greedy today. See something? Scream. Lastly, the brats stay here with Sir. Pancake, while one of us will also remain to keep watch- can I have a drum roll for our lucky winner?" The question was met with an enthusiastic chorus of voices. 

"Aand- Trailbreaker you're up!"

"Awh man- what?" The teen sagged his shoulders as Windcharger smugly patted his arm. 

"Look at the bright side dude: you'll have fish-dad helping you this time." 

"Not helpin' Charger, kudos for trying though..." Trailbreaker's muffled response came from behind his hands, as the other kid only shrugged and joined Skids to prepare for departure. 

In the meantime, Skywarp gingerly hooked his right arm with TC's, leading him towards one of the halls connected to the dome.  From the ceiling stray cables and crumbled pieces of drywall dangled freely, occasionally disturbed by a gentle breeze coming from inside the hallway. He gave himself a few seconds to glance behind his back: the children, in the few minutes they arrived, had apparently started their very own game of tag, skidding away on the wet floor, completely unbothered by what was happening around them. Trailbreaker, accepting his fate, decided to use this time to clean the barrel of his shotgun, while sitting on the floor with his back leaning on the mer's arm.

The creature however was looking apprehensively at them: worry and fret swirled in his blue eyes- they all knew he didn't like to see them leave, but this was necessary. He absentmindedly threw him his best calming smile, hoping to reassure him enough. The mer was briefly taken by surprise before nodding and giving Skywarp a hasty nod. 

 'I trust you.'

"Good luck everyone! If you're not back in an hour we'll come find your sorry asses, so be on time- I'm talking to you Skids!" Damus voice bounced on the walls of the abandoned building. 

"...you get lost one time-" The cut-off whispered replay of his sibling was the last thing he heard before entering the hall with TC in tow. 

\\\

Their wet footfalls was the only noise filling in the utter silence around them.

The bright beams of their flashlights cutting through the thick wall of darkness. Now that he had the chance to look at it up close, he could pinpoint exactly when life had come to a stop between these molded walls: on tiny cafe tables sat long forgotten coffee stained cups, the occasional eerily empty stroller was abandoned haphazardly in the middle of the hallway, still pale mannequins were silent witnesses to the disaster, while purses and toys littered the floors. Moments frozen in time. 

He felt himself shudder, trying to shake off the feeling of wrongness from his shoulders. 

So far they found only a couple of useful things, mainly industrial tape, iron wire and other items from a hardware store they had just raided. All the possibly edible things they dug up have all been either completely or partially covered in mold- all of this moisture made it difficult for things to stay fresh, especially since electricity had been one of the first things they'd lost to the massive wave, completely cutting off all of power to fridges. 

Hopefully the others had been more lucky, he really wasn't looking forward to another overcooked sardine- none of them had always been the greatest cook after all and he doubted Sir. Pancake knew his way around a stove. Great now he was thinking about the mer holding a comically small pan, while wearing a pink frilly apron with the words 'Kiss The Fish' printed on the front- 

He was interrupted mid-giggle by TC's pointy elbow digging into his side- which he was about to comment on before his brother nudged him again, signaling with his light to something on the wall. 

"Storage Room." Read his sibling aloud, with a knowing smile.

"Fucking jackpot, baby!" Skywarp blurred out- ooh the joy he'll feel when they'll be able to shove in their losers sibling faces a box full of protein bars. 

A wide new hallway opened up for them, at the end of it he could discern the top of a pair of rusted shut down automatic stairs. They eagerly hurried down them, impatience and hunger for discovery was eating away at them- before diving waist deep into a pool of freezing water. 

They both startled for a few seconds, and then realization hit. They both forgot the lower levels were entirely flooded, but thankfully water didn't seem too high from what they could see through the darkness- hopefully the floor was built on the same level and didn't suddenly dip under them. The water was way too murky to see what was happening under the surface, and that did nothing to appease the apprehension this place was giving off in waves- he suddenly felt the shivers he shrugged off return in full force. 

"Thunders, not gonna lie, I have a bad feeling about this." His whisper echoed on the walls enclosing them. 

"Yeah... I feel like there's something we're missing." The other confessed, as they slowly trudged forward. "It's been scratching my brain since we passed that cafè...".

"Right?! I feel the same... all that chaos and we only find a bunch of litter on the floor-"

Thundercracker stopped abruptly in his path, making him stop too. 

"Uh- TC, you okay?" He lifted his torch to better look at his brother. 

"...the corpses."

"Oh! Yeah, this was a very busy place, how come we haven't found... any... corpses..."

One of the worst mistakes humanity ever made, was to think that they had any chance at being on top of the food chain. Centuries of time spent spreading and conquering all known continents, had led them to believe that nothing could touch them if they hid behind their big wars and even bigger weapons. However, Hubris is the first deadly sin, condemned to be a human's last. 

From the void, a pair of bulging white eyes stared back at him. A gaping maw full of jagged yellowed teeth, was framed by two lines of receding gums barely attached to the skull. Ivory white plaques covered a shiny metal body underneath, decorating a lizard-like muscular frame, still as stone- like a spring ready to be released. 

They were moving even before his brain could catch up with him. Fight or flight on full force- his main goal was to get away and do it fast.  

Thundercracker quickly followed him, as he felt the large creature pounce towards them. 

Climbing the stairs and reaching the top almost slipping down and falling on his brother. 

They sprinted down the hall- heavy footsteps never too far behind as the beast snapped his monstrous jaws, trying to catch them. 

Blurs of the coffee shop and hardware store passed next to them, as realization hit him once more- they were bringing a human-eating mutant right to their little brothers. 

'See something? Scream.'

And screaming he did. 

His alarmed voice filled the dome as in a moment of distraction his foot slipped on a nearby puddle, leaving him to fall face first unto the hard ground- hopefully his little siblings where not stupid enough to try and come help him. 

He knew this was coming. 

A hot breeze hit the back of his head, as the stench of death reached his nostrils. The heavy weight of a massive clawed paw, pressed him flat on the floor, painfully crushing his chest. He wanted to say he had been brave enough to face his fate, but instead he hid his face inside the crook of his elbow, heaving a last breath verging on a whimper- he only wanted to help his family, and this is how he died, it felt a bit like deja-vu...

Too busy giving thought to his adrenaline infused rants, he didn't immediately feel the crushing weight being suddenly lifted off of him- a giant wall of muscle and pure unbridled fury, tackled the beast into the other side of the room. A low guttural threatening growl woke him up from his stupor and he was on his feet in seconds- the now enraged mer stood between Skywarp and the monster. 

The teen almost didn't recognize him, a completely mirrored image of the usually peaceful creature- what was once a beacon of gentleness, who always moved like he knew he could easily hurt any of them, oh so very careful of his size and strength- now gave away to a terrifying predator, claws and fangs fully on display and ready to use. 

The mutant pounced once again, now his attention taken solely by the mer, who in tow used his massive tail to spring forward and grab the monster by the tail- hastily pulling it towards the water where he could've a clear advantage. 

Too focused on the feral brawl, he didn't hear Damus' muffled voice calling him through the static ringing in his ears.  

"-warp, we need to move! Shit, Skywarp move your ass, goddamnit!" A hand forcefully grabbed his left arm, before he was pulled to his unsteady feet. The front of his shirt was snatched and he felt himself move and duck behind a nearby counter- his eyes never leaving the fight.

If this thing was anything else, now it would be long dead- but unfortunately genetics were on its side. The ivory armor covering its body made for an impenetrable defense- meaning, it was not only built to hunt things smaller than itself, but also to wear out bigger predators and use twist their tiredness on them to deal the final blow. 

"...he's not going to make it." 

"Uh? What are you talking ab-?" 

"He'll lose- WE HAVE TO HELP HIM!"

A still out-of-breath Thundercracker slowly approached him with his hands held up, like he was placating a wild animal and not his own brother. 

"Warp, please be reasonable- What chance do we have against that thing? Bullets will not work and we can't risk hitting our only ally against it, we shou-"

"What? Run? I'm not going to save my ass while someone else is going to die- you're not making me give him the Smokey treatment, no chance in hell." 

Only the sound of the background fight remained, as a mournful silence descended upon them. That name was bound to stir flashes of awful memories in all of them- the darkest times since the beginning of their broken little family. Their missing piece, forever lost. 

"...what's the plan?" The trembling voice of their youngest broke the silence. 

Skywarp drew in a ragged breath as he blurred out their only chance for all of them to get out of this alive. 

"Metal! The- that thing's body is made of metal underneath, if we can find a way to electrocute it, its own body is going to act as a super-conduct and fry it's organs from the inside out." 

"Me and 'Charger found a small generator not too far from here, I think we can use it," Skid's chimed in from the back of their little huddle, "we attach some cables on it and pinch that thing- than boom fried fish." 

With a plan in mind they all moved like a bunch of frenzied rats. Windcharger and Skids ran to fetch the generator, while Soundwave followed them in case they needed to jump-start it. The kids were ordered to stay put and not engage, as the others watched the fight, waiting for their time to strike. 

But as they took in every detail of what was happening, it was clear they had run out of time. The mer was clearly using the last of his energies to just keep the thing still- deep bleeding wounds littered his frame, one of his eyes was closed off by a cut that run at the center of his face, as he gasped for breath- eye dazed and a shaky pupil stared at his enemy. 

He registered his siblings returning with the small generator, but he was quick to snatch the cables attached to it from Soundwaves' hands. 

"We don't have time- I'm going to do something crazy, but it'll be fine!" He cried out, ignoring his siblings' shouted protests- metal was not the only super-conduct present in the dome. 

As he skidded to a stop and knelt near the water, he felt time slow down. He watched as the mutant freed itself and in a few seconds snapped its mouth on the mer's side, trying to rip off a large chunk of meat. The mer let out a haunting pain-filled cry, as he desperately used his last energies to claw at the mutants' skull, in hopes of getting it to let go. 

Skywarp had to act now.

Before he plucked the sparkling cables into the pool, he glanced once more not expecting to lock eye with the blue one of the mer- illuminated by the blue hue of the algae, covered in gaping wounds and suffering immense pain, was smiling at him- one of those familial calming smiles that he became used to on a daily basis, since their crazy companionship began. 

'I trust you.'

Those same eyes that were looking at him with only fondness, suddenly became bloodshot as an immense wave of energy traveled through his frame in a matter of seconds. Skywarp felt his, now free, hands tremble with adrenaline as they all watched their guardian being electrocuted- and with him the beast.

What had been merely moments, felt like hours. 

They won. 

The limp body of the beast slowly sunk into the depths dragged by it's own heavy body, as the victor stood tall in the middle of the dome. Water fell from his broad back in droplets, a deep purple hue cloaked him from underneath- the algae, who soon changed color after being hit by the wave of electricity. The mer red blood-shot eye never left his gaze as he held the other half of his face, covering his wounded eye with a clawed hand.

Skywarp and his brothers watched as their guardian's form eventually staggered and swayed, until his worn body hit the shore with a shuddering thud. A keening sound left the mer's mouth as his body convulsed a couple of times, before finally settling into a fetal position. 

A small blur rounded the counter he left behind his shoulders- Blue sprinted towards the now still body of the mer, halting himself near his head before hugging it as best as he could. 

"Get up... please, you have to get up- I don't want to leave you here," A sob escaped the little kid as he gently pushed at the mer's cheek, "please Sir.Panca- Dad, get up..."

Slowly they all began to huddle around the still-breathing, even if ragged, body of their guardian- the mer shuddered as he gently lifted his head to nudge soothingly at his youngest. He looked over all of them, as if to assure himself that nobody was injured, until he locked eyes with Skywarp once again. The mer cooed, lifting his hand to beckon him to come closer. 

The teen got up on unsteady legs and made his way toward his guardian, collapsing into the crook of his massive neck. As a clawed hand started caressing his back, he found it so difficult to hold in his tears. 

"I'm sorry- this is all my fault," he wailed, "and now you're hurt and- and I did this to you... when you've been nothing but gentle and patient with us from the beginning... some fucking friend I am." 

"...hurt?" He was taken by surprise as the mer spoke to him- a thick warped accented voice. 

"What? No, you big dummie- I'm not hurt..." 

His guardian had the gull to smile down at him- the huge fucking sap. He couldn't help but smile in tow as he felt Bluestreak join their little hug, and settle himself down to nap away the residual adrenaline. 

He watched as his siblings sat all around them- weapons in hand, standing on guard and silently daring anything or anyone to attack their guardian. 

Yeah, he was not ready for this to end just yet.

[webism]

ino gets so desperate to eat you out that it's almost endearing.

as in, he will very genuinely drop to his knees and beg for a taste. hair falling into his eyes, which are so wide and blown out with need that you'd be evil to deny him such pleasures. and you always oblige, for the pleasure his tongue can bring you, but also for the pleasure it shocks through him.

he loves it when you sit on his face and set the pace. he often jokes that under you is exactly where he's meant to be. arms hooked around your thighs to bring you down on top of his face, your reservations about giving him room to breathe be damned.

it's hard to worry, even, when his tongue works so diligently against your clit. he knows you from the inside out, every drag of his lips through your heat or desperate vibrating moan against your pussy is both carnal and aimed to please. you're always thoughtless by the end of it, takuma so proud of the way he melts you down and seals your pleasure with a kiss.

it's a regular thing, too. even if you aren't laying back just to be eaten out, he's pulling out in the middle of sex to latch his lips around your clit and watch your back arch up off the mattress. you had asked him once if it were to stall his own orgasm, but he shook his head. you believe him too, considering a few minutes of your taste is enough for that man to cum in his fucking pants...

oh and he's a firm believer of eating his own cum out of you once he's filled you with it. its only right to clean you up after. dont shoot the messenger!

for @beaniefish

[iimplicitt]

hiii 🤠 anon here

how do you feel about writing for mafia lando where he’s married to the reader who’s not his choice it’s basically an arrangement and his family hates her and she’s having a really hard time in his house and Lando doesn’t notice and he’s cold and one day her family causes her to have a panic attack and he sees her in his room all small and scared and then he helps her and makes her a feel better and etc something about a heated confession and people being put in their place. if you do write this thank you :)

HAPPINESS IS A BUTTERFLY | LN4

pairings: mafia! lando x arranged marriage reader

an/warnings: arranged marriage, violence, mentions of abusive parents, angst, panic attacks, fluff, hea

wc: 5.2k

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

He bit the inside of his cheek as he watched the sleek back car roll up in the long drive way from his office. Windows tinted but he could make out the faint outline of a person as they moved around before Oscar got out of the car to open the door for its passenger.

His new wife.

The words tasted sour on his tongue as he drank some of his whiskey, not caring that it was nine in the morning. He needed a pick-me-up for the day that was ahead.

Gleaming hair caught in the sunlight, a delicate hand with a blinding diamond hesitantly taking Oscar’s as red bottom Louis’ met the pavement.

His eyes narrowed a bit as he watched you, mere curiosity to see how you acted when he wasn’t around. When the wedding happened it was short and extravagant. All the glitz and glamour expected of such a pair. A politician's daughter and a booming business man whose money usually came tinted red. A shame that most of the world didn’t know your fathers money was just as dirty as his.

It was an alliance in London’s eyes. A step towards peace.

He hadn’t even seen you until the white lace veil was lifted.

You were pretty but that wasn’t enough to suddenly sway his mind into liking the whole arrangement. He didn’t have much choice. Having coppers on a payroll was a deal too good to pass up, so he agreed. Shook hands. It hadn’t mattered much, not in the long run. Lando was always busy. Always working. If a marriage hadn’t been forced upon him, he didn’t think he would’ve ever had a ring on his finger.

He watched silently as you waited for Oscar to grab your bags. Your eyes flickering around the property, taking in the well kept gardens and security cameras mounted every few yards. A fortress.

His eyes took in the dress you wore, expensive silk draped over skin. Flowing like liquid in the subtle summer breeze. He took note of how your hand kept flexing, the one with a ring. His ring.

The one he had slid on your finger a week ago as he whispered, “I do.” Your own voice low as you muttered the vow, eyes not meeting his.

He could barely remember what the kiss had been like. It was quick, soft. Obligatory. Both of you seemed relieved it was over with, arms linked with one another as you left the cathedral. White flower petals falling into hair as they were tossed into the sky.

Lando set his tumbler down and backed away from the window, trying to take a calming breath before walking downstairs. He needed to make this livable. An ecosystem. Staying out of each other's way, respecting boundaries. Telling where and what was off bounds. If you needed help, ask Oscar. If you wanted someone to talk to, also ask Oscar. Leave him be, because he was busy.

You seemed reasonable enough in the few minutes of shared company. You knew this was a business transaction. It wasn’t something to get hopes up on. Lando knew you were smart enough not to be a burden so hopefully it would feel like nothing had changed. Just an extra person in the household. Another echoing voice.

He could hear the sharp click of your heels as you entered the front foyer, the soft sound of your voice as you spoke in hushed tones. Your whole presence seemed cautious. Like you were treading in a minefield.

As he stepped down the stairs and into the light, your eyes met. The air shifting. Tense. Dangerous. Your painted lips pressed into a line as you waited for instruction. Ever obedient. Compliance being woven into you as a child.

He had met your father on more than one occasion and he knew he wasn’t a kind man.

But the problems of your past were yours.

Lando sighed lightly through his nose, head tilting and hands in pockets as he let himself look at you for another moment before dismissing Oscar.

The foyer was still. The only thing he could hear was the faint hum of electricity and birds outside. Watching you as you watched him.

“Nice drive?” He asked, not quite sure on the formalities of the situation.

You laughed slightly, the sound coming out in a short exhale as you looked away from him. “It was fine.”

He hummed, not seeing a point in furthering the conversation and he gestured for you to follow him.

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

The summer had gone by in a repetition of droning days and lonely dinners. The only thing keeping you company were the few books you packed, although you had already read through them all. An endless cycle of talking to the walls and sitting near your window, feeling like a modern day Rapunzel.

It’s not necessarily like you weren’t allowed to go anywhere, but it still felt off limits. Frowned upon. A burden if you were seen walking the halls.

His family didn’t like you very much. Which you both understood yet couldn’t come to terms with. They had to have known this wasn’t any more of your choice than it was his. And why shovel the blame onto someone’s child? It wasn’t your fault your father was corrupted and played a better hand.

Pressing your forehead against the cool glass, you watched as the world went by. The silent hum of air conditioning was the only thing to droll out your thoughts and lately it hadn’t been working. The room felt suffocating but there was no one to turn to. Even voicing your thoughts out loud to yourself seemed like some boundary was being crossed. Maybe even to yourself. That you were starting to get too comfortable.

Oscar seemed nice enough. Timid. Not sure how to approach you or if he even should. He brought your meals to your door like clock work. Part of you felt bad but the thought of eating in the dining room seemed like suicide. You had tried the first night, assuming that was just part of the routine. To have dinner with your…husband.

But Lando was nowhere to be found, leaving you at a large oak table alone and shoveling food around. Appetite non-existent. Oscar had told you he usually took dinner in his office. That most of the other members of the household ate out.

His words hit you dully as you stared at the polished wood, not quite believing this was going to be the rest of your life. Then again, you weren’t sure what you wanted. Did you want Lando to make an effort? Did you even want to be around him? You didn’t know much, just that he was a bad man. But aren’t they all? Apparently that’s all the world thought you were fit for. Violent men with money in their eyes.

No, you didn’t want to know him.

But god, loneliness caught up to everyone.

The hours ticked by and you sat there, tracing lines into the skin of your thighs with your nail. Over and over again till skin prickled and red lines appeared. The itch and sting foreign, numb. As if you’d shot your heart with novacaine. Your eyes unblinking as you did the action, pure muscle memory. You didn’t have to think. You didn’t want to.

At least you never wanted to think about yourself. Your situation. The listless marriage you now found yourself trapped in.

But your mind would wander. What did he get up to? What did he even do? Was it really any different from the current political affairs the nation got up to? Would he one day change his mind and want more?

The thought made you shiver, eyes trailing to your locked door. He’d never tried to come in. Hell, he’d never even been to your room. In the weeks you’d been there you had probably only seen him a handful of times. Walking down the hall and his eyes would catch yours for a moment but nothing else. Looking through you like a ghost. Cold. Indifferent. Sometimes you’d hear him in the house. Talking to Oscar or on the phone. Always business. Always something you didn’t understand.

He couldn’t seem bothered at the thought of you being around. Didn’t seem interested. And that weird, fucked up little voice in the back of your mind whispered that Lando was keeping himself entertained just fine. That he found comfort in other women. Having affairs. You barely felt married. There weren't technically any commitments beyond regurgitated vows. So why did the thought still make your stomach churn?

Perhaps it was the feeling of being unwanted. A constant companion of doubt. Your family didn’t want you, pawned you off. Your husband didn’t want you. You would never get to experience love. You’d go through life longing for creature comforts—

You pressed your forehead harder into the glass. Wanting the thoughts to stop. You pushed so hard you hoped it’d break and you’d go hurtling towards the ground.

There was a sharp knock on the door. Six o’clock sharp.

Dinner.

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

You felt like you were going insane. The walls bending inward. The wallpaper swirling. The ceiling breathing.

Crazy.

Wandering the halls was reckless but you started to care less and less if Lando saw you. For the first time in months you wanted him to see you. Be reminded that you were there. Proof you were alive. You were here. Even when it never felt like it. You felt like a phantom who haunted the house, mostly only coming out at night when the rest of the world slept. Chasing the creaks of wood and following the patterns in the rug. Chasing something. Feeling wild. Deranged like a white rabbit who was late for tea.

His mother yelled at you. For something, you weren’t sure what. It seemed like no matter what you did you were wrong. Skin not fitting right over bones. Disassociating and staring at her. That only made her more mad and she slapped you. Not for the first time. Hard across the face. You hadn’t noticed till you heard the echo of it around the kitchen. Didn’t realise till some of the staff gasped, hands flying over mouths. Glowing wide eyes staring at you in shock.

You blinked again, subtle warmth creeping into your cheek. Hand slowly going up to hold your face. What had you done wrong? Why were you always wrong?

His mother scoffed. “You’re no good. You’re not even all the way there are you?” With a look of disgust she turned away, disappearing down the hall.

One of the cooks slowly approached you, as if you were some wounded animal. Holding out a pack of ice. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

“For what?” Your voice sounded distant. Distorted. Like it was coming from somewhere else. Taking the ice, you left. Letting it sit in your hand instead, the bitter coldness of it sending a dull shock up your arm.

You felt like crying. At least you thought about it. But nothing would fall out. Your eyes felt dry and heavy. Staring at nothingness as you walked with your heartbeat thudding in your ears.

This was your life. This was going to be your forever. Sucked into yet another man's orbit who didn’t give a shit about you. Because fuck what you want, right?

You turned into what you thought was your bedroom. You weren’t quite sure how you got there. It had been odd lately. Like moments of time blacked out. Arriving one place and not knowing how you got there. Tuning out to your depressing reality.

You were going to die alone. It wasn’t even your fault. Or maybe it was. Maybe you should’ve tried harder. Fought your father and left as soon as you had turned of age. Why didn’t you try harder to fight back? Did some twisted part of you want this? The lack of effort. Things being handed to you. Maybe you thought you deserved it. After all, you'd been living off your fathers dirty money guilt free. Perhaps this was just your karma.

Longing for a life you’d never have.

You sucked in a sharp breath, tears finally beginning to prick at your eyes. The droplets stung so bad your vision went blurry.

You barely felt it as your knees hit the hard wooden floors. Didn’t register the scratching sound of your nails dragging against the planks, blindly trying to crawl your way out of the hell you were living. Feeling pathetic and ungrateful because you knew it could be worse. It could always be worse.

A sob left your throat, bubbling up and out like acid.

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

The door flew open to his office and he was about to yell at whoever had the audacity when he turned, paused. The look on Oscar’s face wasn’t one commonly seen.

“What?”

“There’s a problem.”

Lando sighed, tapping his pen on his desk. “Care to elaborate?”

“It’s your mother and your wife.”

Lando reared back slightly at the word. It wasn’t thrown around often. Hell, he hardly saw you. And when he did, when he’d catch you wandering around well past three in the morning something was just…off. He didn't know how to approach you. Or if he even should. You’d seemed equally disinterested by his company. Staring at him sometimes like he was an apparition that wasn’t meant to be there.

He wouldn’t blame you if you hated his guts. Lando knew most women would prefer a love filled marriage compared to whatever the hell they had.

“What about them?” He asked, eyes flicking down to his papers again. Not seeing why—

“The staff said there was an altercation in the kitchen.”

Pausing, his eyes flicked up. Brow raising.

Oscar sighed, “your wife is in your room.”

That got him up. What the hell were you doing in there? And why? It wasn’t like he kept important documents in there, he knew better than that but he still didn’t trust you much. You were your fathers daughter. Maybe this was all some ploy to get into his personal things, find weaknesses, cracks.

His feet moved briskly down the hall, his polished shoes clicking dully on the ornate rugs and painted eyes followed him as he went. Lando didn’t pause as he saw his door, didn’t pause as he turned the handle.

“What do—“

Lando halted to a stop as his eyes found you. Feeling as if the earth had been yanked out from beneath him when he heard you try to smother the sound of your crying with a hand. Curled up in the space between his bed and the nightstand. Looking so small as you trembled.

Your eyes didn’t meet his. He wasn’t even sure if you heard him come in. Your breathing was too fast, too ragged. Short bursts of oxygen, your lungs not being able to keep up.

He shut the door softly behind him and quietly made his way over to you, lowering himself to his knees. Debating if he should touch you or not. You hadn’t touched in months. Not since the wedding.

“Hey,” his voice was soft and you flinched. Head shooting up and staring at him. He’d never seen you look so frightened and you tried to push yourself back harder into the wall. Shaking your head as if he’d caught you doing something wrong.

He immediately caught the red outline of a hand on your cheek. His jaw clenched. An odd, unbearably awful sensation churned in his stomach at the thought of someone hurting you. Knowing it was his mother only made the fire burn hotter. He didn’t know why. It wasn’t like you were close. But the rage was itching up his spine like a spider.

“You’re okay,” he said again. His voice was rough, but a whisper. He reached out to you, slowly. Hands gently taking hold of you as he pulled your shaking frame into his, feeling the way your lungs struggled to catch up. Your muscles coiled in tension as he touched you. He hated it.

“You’re alright, darling.” He soothed your hair back, feeling your nails bite into his skin as you twisted the fabric of his shirt. Trying to ground yourself. Trying to make sense of it all. Of why he was here.

He knew it had to be confusing. That his sudden reassurance was off putting and regret was starting to inch its way up his throat. The spindly legs tickling and desperate. He should’ve handled this whole thing better. It was selfish. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. Holding your head beneath his chin as you tried to calm down. “I’m here, if you need me to be.”

You didn’t say anything. He wasn’t sure what to do. Where to go from there. This was new territory for him. Second guessing wasn’t usually in Lando’s playbook but you were something new entirely.

He began to lean away but your grip tightened on his shirt, your head pressing further into the crook of his neck.

Sighing, he maneuvered himself into a sitting position, holding you in his lap as he leaned against his bed. Giving you time. Gently running circles into the nape of your neck. His grandmother always did that for him, it always seemed to help calm him down. Lando waited patiently, taking in the faint scent of your shampoo. Smiling to himself a bit despite everything because it was the same one he used.

Slowly your harsh breathing began to subside but your body still trembled from the aftershocks.

His fingers still ran lightly over your skin, his voice a low hum and he could feel the vibration of his own rib cage with your weight against him. “I’ve had panic attacks too, you know?”

You didn’t do anything for a moment, and then, like the first break of daylight, you slightly shifted your head and your voice was a whisper. “Really?”

“Mhm.”

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

Something had shifted. Maybe others wouldn’t have noticed, but you did. That next morning there was a knock on your bedroom door. Eight o’clock sharp. You hadn’t slept much, your eyes still raw and body restless from the previous evening. The feeling of his light, delicate touch on you was on replay in the back of your mind. You hadn’t been held in what felt like years.

You hadn’t expected such kindness from him.

Padding over to the door, you rubbed at your eyes, trying to look alive before opening it. “Morning, Oscar–” you blinked at the form of Lando standing in the hall. Wearing a casual linen shirt and dress pants, jacket draped over one arm and he looked at you expectantly.

“Ready?” He asked.

You felt dumb as you continued to stare at him. Not expecting to see him so soon. Not thinking he’d even want to see you after yesterday’s mess. “What?”

He sighed lightly through his nose. “We’re going out for breakfast.”

“Why?”

There was a slight crease forming between his brows. “Do you not want to?”

You blinked again before reality finally caught up to you. “No, no. That’s fine. Just… let me get dressed.” You eyed him as you shut the door. He was acting weird.

It was nice.

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

“What on earth are you doing?” His mother shouted over the sound of a power drill. Standing in the doorway with her arms crossed.

Lando looked at her for only a moment. Still cross with her after the kitchen incident a couple of weeks ago. He had yelled at her after he managed to get you into bed. Yelled at his whole family. The staff, for not telling him.

“She is the lady of the household and my wife. You do not touch her, you do not say a fucking word to her unless it’s praise.” He looked directly at his mother. “Understood?”

“I’m building a reading nook.” He finally said, standing back to look at his progress so far. He took you to the fabric store yesterday but you were beyond indecisive and he wasn’t sure the new couch went with the interior of his office.

He had been trying to go out more, just small places. When he found out you hadn’t left the house since you arrived he was confused and furious with Oscar. His friend and right hand had merely raised his hands in surrender, muttering how you had never wanted to go anywhere.

“Whatever for? Since when do you read for pleasure?” His mother asked, mostly teasing. Trying to weave her way back into his good graces. He doubted that would ever happen. He was on the verge of throwing her out but you managed to talk him out of it.

“It’s not for me.” Lando left it at that. Watching how his mother’s shoulders fell at the realisation and she turned away.

He smiled slightly to himself as he set up the couch, pushing it under the window so you could get good light and a nice view of the gardens. Plus, he could watch you more easily from his desk when he worked.

You looked pretty when you were reading.

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

For the first time in months you were bored, and not in a bad way. Lando made sure there was always something for you to do when he wasn’t around. Part of you felt bad, following him around like a kicked puppy. But any time you’d start to back off, give him some space, it was like his hand blindly found yours, not even looking up from his work, tugging you back.

Muttering a quiet, “stay.”

You tried to ignore the butterflies that began fluttering in your stomach, chasing after whatever this was. You didn’t know why you felt stubborn over it. He was your husband after all, butterflies are supposed to be a good thing.

You took up cooking as a hobby, mostly different kinds of fresh pasta. Trying to keep your hands steady as Lando would walk behind you, fingers lightly dragging along the small over your back. Leaning over your shoulder, lips nearly brushing your neck as he quietly spoke, “that looks lovely.”

He always spoke so softly to you. His touch always delicate.

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

Lando fixed his cuff links as he stood in the foyer, making sure his suit was wrinkle free in the large mirror. There was a big Christmas gala that night in London. A whole cluster of politicians, businessmen, philanthropists, etc. He didn’t have much of a role to play besides being seen, given his bookies did most of the under the table work.

When he’d asked you to go with him, you hesitated. He knew seeing your father was something you’d like to avoid. Over time you slowly opened up to him about how strained the relationship was.

He had lifted a hand to your cheek, gently brushing his knuckles along your cheekbones, watching in satisfaction as your pupils expanded at his touch. “I won't let him near you,” he whispered. Watching as you debated before eventually nodding, leaning slightly into his touch.

When he heard the sound of heels clicking sharply against marble flooring his eyes flicked up, watching you approach in the mirror. Looking like heaven in high heels. Your black dress fit you perfectly, the white fur shawl was draped lazily over your shoulders.

Lando felt his mouth go dry as he turned, his heartbeat pounding in his ears as you approached. The sweet smell of your perfume swirling around him, making him feel hazy.

God, if you knew what you did to him.

It seemed like every night now that he dreamt of kissing you, doing a whole list of unruly things. Despite the ring on his hand and yours it still felt off limits. Not feeling sure of what you actually wanted.

“Ready?” You asked, a small smile playing on your lips.

He blinked at you, still in a daze. “What?”

You bit your lip, holding back a laugh and he felt his stomach pool.

“The gala. Yes, right.” He cleared his throat, not thinking twice as he took your hand. “Let’s go.”

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

You felt all the eyes on you as he took you around the dance floor. The whispers. Lando Norris’ wife who he liked to keep hidden away. Apparently most people hadn’t even known he was married. They thought you were just a new date till they saw the blinding diamond on your finger and his matching gold one.

You felt stiff. Too perceived.

But he lightly took hold of your chin between his fingers, making you look at him.

“It’s just you and me, love.”

Love. You felt equally reassured and nauseous.

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

Lando was using every excuse he could to touch you. Hand splaying on the small of your back where your dress dipped low. Fingers lightly brushing the back of your neck as he talked to the other guests. Hand on your thigh beneath the table. When he’d first done it you jumped slightly and his heart skipped a beat when you looked at him, eyes low, before turning away again and taking a sip of your wine.

He couldn’t help it as his lips pulled back slightly when he began to rub circles with his thumb, feeling the muscles of your leg tighten. But you leaned toward him, an invitation. He felt more drunk off of you than any wine he had been drinking.

He’d only see glimpses of your father. Lingering to the side of the ballroom walls. Whispering in corners with other greedy men. His eyes always on you, though.

Lando didn’t like it. Then again he never liked anything enough for that to be a fair test. But he knew never to ignore his intuition, so he took your hand in his and tugged you along until you were outside, the cold December air twirling around them.

You shivered as you waited for the valet to pull his McLaren around, blushing a bit when he draped his jacket over your shoulders. Or maybe it was just the wind, he wasn’t sure. But he’d liked to think he made you flustered.

The engine purred as he drove away, feeling your eyes on him as city lights flicked back.

“Why’d we leave early?” You finally asked.

His grip adjusted on the steering heel, looking in the rearview mirror, always vigilant. He hadn’t realised till now that going public made you a target. Made him vulnerable.

“Just wanted to,” is all he offered. Not wanting to scare you. He knew you already had a difficult time adjusting to his world. Then again he shouldn’t cut you any credit. Growing up with your father couldn’t have been any easier.

You hummed, not believing him. Your eyes finally pulled away to stare out the window. Letting him relax. It was strange, having somebody for the first time see him. The thought was equally relieving and terrifying.

When they pulled up to the house the car fell quiet, a heavy silence falling over like a blanket. He wanted to say more to you, but what? This was all new territory and the thought of messing up this bridge he’d built—

“Lando.”

He turned, looking at you as moonlight painted your skin through the window.

You reached forward, hand taking his, “I know you’ll keep me safe.” Another pause and you played with his wedding ring. “I trust you.”

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

A loud thud woke you up, your heart beating erratically as your door handle began to move. Thankful that you had locked it but fear was still crawling up your spine. You were just about to reach for your phone to call someone for help when a ragged voice poured out from the other side, weakly saying your name. The sound of a body slumping to the floor.

Lando.

You quickly tore off the sheets, stumbling a bit in the dark and you yanked your door open. A hand flying up to your mouth as you took in the state of him. Bruised and slick with blood, one arm wrapped around his rib cage, his breath rattling.

His eyes cracked open, gleaming in the low lamp light of the hall. His lips pulling back in a bloodied grin.

“Hello, darling.”

“Oh my god,” you did your best to get him up, almost falling under his weight as you maneuvered him to your bathroom. “What happened?”

Your heart lurched as Lando coughed, turning his head to spit out some blood into the bin and he sat himself up on the sink. Wincing as he did so. Not answering you.

“Lando,” you said quietly, afraid that even loud noises would hurt him and you gently took hold of his face in your hands. Not caring blood and dirt would get on them. Gently running your thumbs along his cheek bones.

He seemed to melt into you, letting his head fall forward and rest against yours as you brushed the damp curls back. Seeing him like this was a new kind of pain you never wanted to experience again.

“Who did this to you?” Although your voice was gentle, there was a layer of conviction under it that even surprised you.

He sighed, a wheeze coming up from the back of his throat and his hands came up to hold onto your wrists. You didn’t miss his cracked and bleeding knuckles.

“I have a duty of care,” he muttered.

Your father. You felt like throwing up.

Gently pulling his head forward, you held him to you. Letting his heartbeat bring some life back into you. He was okay. He was here. He came back to you. Everything would be fine.

Slowly, Lando’s arms wrapped around you, holding you as tight as he could.

“I’m going to kill him,” you mumbled into his hair and he laughed, not caring that it hurt.

He leaned his head back slightly, eyes flicking between your own and your lips. His hand that had snaked up to the back of your neck pulling you in slightly. Hesitant. Then all at once.

Mouths colliding, a kiss that felt like a tuning fork struck against a star.

His fingers twined in your hair and you tried to be gentle with him. As much as you could. But the feeling of finally was making you feel weightless. Reckless. Desperate as he held you tighter.

You felt high as he whispered the words my wife between kisses.

“So much for a marriage of convenience,” you managed after you pulled away. You didn’t want to, but he needed your help.

He smiled again, those dimples you loved so much deepening in his cheeks. “Nah,” he said lightly. “I think this will be a marriage of inconvenience.”

And he kissed you again.

taglist: @theonottsbxtch @fortunapre @c8lap1nto @ashbone

[sevsgiirl]

— do the girls back home touch you like I do?

sevika x insecure!reader. men and minors dni.

synopsis: having feelings for the most feared woman in zaun had more cons than it did pros - her being popular amongst women and a regular at the brothel just to name a few. it hurt because you knew with her history there’s no way she��d return your feelings… right?

word count: 5.5k words.

tags: insecure!reader, jealousy, miscommunication, public sex, oral sex, vaginal fingering, porn with feelings, top!sevika, bottom!reader.

it was silly, honestly.

you knew it was a shot in the dark for sevika to reciprocate your feelings. much or less consider you an option on her roster.

sevika gets around. there was no denying that, and you’ve come to terms with it the second you caught these stupid little feelings that just wouldn’t go away. no matter how hard you tried.

you assumed it would. back when silco hired you to be his informant, you saw the opportunity as nothing more but an upgrade from your previous jobs. it’s safe to say, you’ve gone through a lot just to get to where you are now. whether it was scrubbing the floors of a dingy, run-down diner that made jericho’s look like a michelin star restaurant, to going as far as thinking about working at babette’s.

but then silco saw some potential in you that not a lot of people have seen before, and you were grateful for it. a lot of your co-workers were tolerable, just as long as you looked past the carnage of their jobs, it was pretty easy to get by when working for silco because he never really asked you to get your hands dirty.

no, he asked sevika to do that.

you knew she was different from the others the second you laid eyes on her. she remained unyielding in the eyes of catastrophe, she gets the job done no matter how tedious the assignments were, and she navigates through life like an enigma.

you were intimidated by her at first. when she walked into a room, her presence demanded to be felt, crowds of people would always make space for her to walk through and she could silence someone with just the heat of her glare. it was then you understood why she was silco’s number two.

but despite her brooding personality, you couldn’t help but gravitate towards her. maybe it was the allure of wanting something you can’t have, but every time you were sent on a mission with her, this desire to know her better always tempted you. even though you wouldn’t know the first thing to say to strike up a conversation with the older woman, you couldn’t deny that what you felt was beyond just physical attraction. you were intrigued by everything about her.

it tethered the line of obsession but hadn’t quite got there yet, the better way to describe it was infatuation.

she’d occupy your thoughts but not so much to the point that she was all you thought about, but when you did, you had to force yourself to snap out of it before it became borderline creepy, and you wanted to justify your feelings thinking she wouldn’t feel the same in a million years.

not only that, but her reputation precedes her.

you knew your hesitation to make a move stemmed more from just being shy or thinking you wouldn’t get along with the older woman, and it was because her sexual proclivities scared the hell out of you.

again, she gets around, far more than most people. before you worked for silco, rumors regarding his second in command traveled through the streets of zaun in whispers, whether it was good or bad, it didn’t really matter.

one detail that caught the attention of many, specifically those of women, were her frequent nights spent at the gardens. you couldn’t deny that aside from being incredibly scary, so much of sevika’s appeal came from her appearance as well - her tall stature, impressive built, corded muscles, the rigged lines and hard angles of her face. she was just as beautiful as she was domineering.

that’s why it didn’t surprise you that women tend to set aside her notoriety in hopes of sleeping with her, but that doesn’t mean the thought didn’t cause your insides to flare up with jealousy.

as mentioned, you thought about working for babette at one point. when your low paying jobs in the past couldn’t suffice to get you through the week, the idea came to mind on some occasions. but you knew it wasn’t easy work, not to mention your looks paled in comparison to the girls you’d seen working there. all slim waists, toned arms, long legs, big tits and even bigger asses.

you didn’t possess any of the traits that made the girls there appealing.

you just set aside the idea because your ego wasn’t big enough to make you think you were up for the job, and knowing that’s where sevika prefers to spend most of her nights made your insecurities worse.

especially when she’d stroll through the last drop late at night littered with hickeys and bite marks around her neck that she’d let the world see without shame, and how you’d just ogle at them with the ugliest emotions churning in the pits of your stomach.

it didn’t help when silco’s men would poke fun at her for it “damn, was the night that rough? you gotta take it easy on those girls.” they’d joke as a sly grin would make its way on her face.

“they love it,” would be her response, which would earn a roar of laughter from the group meanwhile you’d walk away after eavesdropping, with a heaviness in your chest that wasn’t there minutes ago as you tried to erase the image of sevika indulging herself with countless women.

you understood the intention behind it. you knew it was her way of escaping the stress of silco’s workload, and having sex with multiple women was just as much of a coping mechanism as gambling and drinking was.

that doesn’t mean it wasn’t any less painful to think about, even though you knew you couldn’t have stood a chance.

because how could you? who even were you in the bustling, chaotic world that is sevika’s life? if simply nothing more than just her co-worker?

𐙚 ˙ ⋆ .˚

you didn’t think she’d ever acknowledge you outside of work.

you’ve had your fair share of interactions but it was all professional so those don’t count. you were delusional but you weren’t delusional enough to think that your quick conversations about paychecks and shipment were considered bonding.

it wasn’t until an incident transpired in one of her missions where silco asked you to come along, and it so happened that the firelights decided it was a good day to ambush you, sevika and the rest of the team.

you cowered away from the commotion because it’s not like you possessed any of sevika’s combative skills. you were an informant, for crying out loud.

but you weren’t quick on your feet, and when the leader of the firelights threw one of their bombs in your direction you were crystallized in place near the cargos, unable to move.

you knew the crystals would dissolve after five minutes, you were aware of how their weapons worked, but the fear of being unable to move still stressed you out, and as you kept squirming you caught sevika’s eye who was immobilized herself.

one thing led to another, silco’s daughter came up from underneath the airship and began firing at the firelights, grazing you with one of her bullets as you let out an agonizing scream in response.

suffice to say, the mission went horribly and everyone who go out was reprimanded by silco, because of course he’d never put the blame on jinx. while you on the other hand, were hunched over the bar later that night, nursing your sides that were still bleeding due to jinx’s mishap.

thieram was more than happy to help, aiding you with your injury but your pain tolerance wasn’t necessarily high, so every time he dabbed you with the wash cloth dunked in alcohol, you couldn’t help it as you let out a wince, clutching thieram’s forearm.

“I’m sorry,” he said, cringing at your pitiful state “I don’t know how-“

“move it.”

your eyes widened as the shadow of sevika’s tall silhouette casted over you, pushing past thieram while she took the bottle of alcohol and cloth from him. she nodded at you for you to raise your shirt up.

“let me see the wound,”

blushing, you were debating whether or not you should let sevika see you in such a compromising position, but she probably only wanted to help and couldn’t care less about seeing you exposed.

so you did as you were told and let her press her large palm onto your rib where a lot of the bleeding came from.

you hissed, gripping the sides of the bar and sevika cursed “fucking jinx,”

you shook your head “it’s okay, it’s not that big of a de-“

“but it is,” she grumbled “if only she did her fucking job and didn’t lose her shit, maybe you wouldn’t have gotten hurt.”

gulping, you tried not to overthink her choice of words and how she only focused on your injury and not the rest, considering you weren’t the only one who got the brunt of it.

“it’s fine, I’m just worried if the others are tending to their injuries.”

“don’t worry about them,” she muttered “they’re built for these kinds of things, you aren’t.”

you snickered, pretending to take offense “excuse me? are you calling me weak?”

sevika couldn’t hide her amusement, wiping away at the little blood smeared on your lower stomach.

“not weak,” she replied “I just don’t think a pretty little thing like you is meant for this kind of work. you’re not equipped for it.”

“I can look out for myself, you know.”

she hummed, her grey eyes staring up at you “maybe, but still. it’d be better if you didn’t need to.”

you tried not to let her words get to you, and calling you a pretty little thing didn’t help with your growing infatuation. perhaps she was just playing coy with you, you thought.

but then silco continued to let you join in on her missions, and you couldn’t ignore the way your heart fluttered every time she’d ask you to ‘keep close behind’ or how she’d shield you with her massive frame every time danger was imminent.

if she couldn’t trust you to look out for yourself, then she did it for you.

you wanted to excuse it thinking since she’s already lost so much men she didn’t want your name to be crossed off on the list as well. but that doesn’t mean you stopped dwelling on it.

especially when on most nights where she’d catch you in the last drop, she’d ask you to have a drink with her. going as far as to teach you how to play cards when you’d watch her gamble with the rest of silco’s men and how she’d win every time.

“you’re so good at this,” you said in awe during one of her games which earned a chuckle from her.

you were seated right next to sevika, not too close but not too far apart either, that sometimes you’d feel her elbow brushing against yours.

“want me to teach you then?”

“hey, that’s not fair, how come she gets to have you as her teacher while we’re stuck here getting our asses beat?” one of the men she was playing with chided in.

she only ignored him, flipping her cards over to reveal she’s won yet again, making them groan “then play better.” she quipped, turning over to you with a smirk on her face.

you swore butterflies almost erupted out of your belly. she was so smug, but radiant in her victory that you couldn’t even bring yourself too feel bad for the others, if you’d get to see her this way all the time, you hoped she’d win all of her games.

the guy huffed, taking a swig from his beer as he looked up at her, grinning “I dropped by the gardens today, by the way. lily said she missed you.”

you froze as those words left his mouth, but sevika remained ambivalent by the information as she shuffled her cards “I’ve just had a lot on my plate,” and perhaps it was just your mind playing tricks on you, but you swore you caught her eyeing you for a brief moment.

“well, better not to keep those girls waiting. you know you’re their favorite,” the table laughed and sevika couldn’t help herself from joining along.

“ain’t that right,” she said, chuckling.

you gulped, feeling a lump in your throat as you forced yourself not to spew something bitter because really, who were you to act jealous over who sevika chooses to spend her time with?

she may act flirtatious with you from time to time but it’s not like it meant anything. you wanted to set it aside, and tell yourself it was just never going to happen. spend less time with her if you need to.

but as if it fate wanted to play a joke on you both, that was thrown out the window when one night, sevika came stumbling into the last drop all battered and bruised. her prosthetic dangling from her arm in ruined wires while she tried her best to steady herself as she walked in.

instinctively, you rushed to her side and examined her state “sevika, oh my god.”

she groaned “it’s not a big de-“

“like hell it is,” you reprimanded as you told thieram to fetch the first aid kit and inform silco of sevika’s condition.

she was against it but you simply silenced her, pulling up a chair as you pushed her down “you need to be more careful.” you said.

“stop fussing over me, I’m built for these kinds of things. it’s my job.”

“just because it’s your job doesn’t mean you have to be so reckless! you’re more than just silco’s killing machine. you can’t keep putting your life on the line like this.”

sevika remained silent before soft laughter bubbled out of her, making you raise an eyebrow.

“I guess this makes us even.”

“what?”

“from when you got hit by jinx’s bullets,” she said as realization dawned on you “I guess we’re even now.“

you rolled your eyes at that “I’m not doing this because I owe it to you. you’re more than just my co-worker.”

she eyed you, curious “what am I then?”

there was a moment of silence as you knelt down in front of her, staring at the uneven lines of the wooden floorboards, refusing to meet her eye.

“a friend, if you’d let me,” you muttered.

she hummed, leaning against her seat “I don’t do much of those,”

you snickered “you don’t do much of anything really,”

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

you realized your mistake but decided to keep it going anyways.

“you’re too guarded. you keep your circle too tight, and I haven’t really seen you out with anyone. romantically, I mean.”

you knew you should’ve kept your mouth shut, but you couldn’t help it.

she was silent for a minute “I didn’t know you kept tabs on whether or not I date.”

you scoffed, although it sounded unconvincing “I do not.”

then there was that god awful smirk on her face again, eating away at you as she cocked her head to the side.

“sure you don’t, princess.“

your mind immediately went haywire because oh god, did she know?

on one hand, you weren’t exactly subtle. even thieram would tease you about it. noticing the way you’d sneak glances at sevika whenever she strolled through the bar and you’d hear him let out a snort from behind the counter.

“take a picture, it’d last longer.” he’d joke while you flipped him off.

but judging by the way she teased you about the idea, you’d be lying if you said there wasn’t a part of you that felt a bit hopeful that maybe, just maybe, there was a chance.

because if there was, it wouldn’t hurt to try and seize the opportunity.

𐙚 ˙ ⋆ .˚

when silco suggested the group had a day off and to use the bar to their liking for one night as compensation for a successful mission, you were elated. for a number of reasons.

because this is it. this is the moment that you’ve been waiting for, to finally make a move and to squash your fantasies once and for all.

you’re aware about wanting to keep your feelings at bay and to never let sevika know about them, but as the days flew by it was getting harder and harder to stay silent.

especially since the night you tended to her injuries and how she reacted at the idea of you taking an interest in her, and how she didn’t seemed fazed by it, if anything, she seemed intrigued.

it was worth a shot, because it’s better to say you tried than not at all.

so on the night of the party, you went out of your way to doll yourself up for once. your days were normally mundane and your job was tedious enough as it, so you never saw a reason to dress up. living in the under city, going out partying and sleeping with people was scarcely something you ever thought about.

but that doesn’t mean you never anticipated it, and so you went digging under your closet for the handful of dresses you’ve stolen from a couple of boutiques in topside. something you kept for special occasions and this was one of them.

you settled for a black halter dress that stopped below your thighs and also accentuated your cleavage, along with a pair of sheer dark tights that allowed you space to move around freely.

you rummaged through your drawers and pulled out a couple of broken makeup pallets, likely expired, but you didn’t really care as you meticulously dabbed silver eyeshadow on yourself and applied some red lipstick.

you inspected yourself on your mirror and let out an approving hum. you looked nice. you didn’t really consider yourself drop dead gorgeous but when you made some effort to make yourself presentable, the pay-off was worth it.

your chest swelled with hope thinking maybe this will be the day sevika sees you, really sees you. not just as a co-worker, friend, but someone worthy to replace the girls at the gardens with…

with that, you slipped on your combat boots and strode out of your apartment building, walking through the streets of zaun and not minding the lewd comments thrown your way by the men passing by you.

you showed up at the last drop and one of the bouncers, after taking a good look at you, opened the door for you while shooting you a sly grin.

perhaps you’ve outdone yourself, or maybe the people around you just weren’t used to seeing you all dressed up but either way, their reactions stroked your ego. all that’s left now was to just find sevika.

you made your up to the bar where thieram was busy serving drinks, and he didn’t recognize you at first until you called out to him.

he blinked as he said your name “damn, is it really you?” he chuckled “you look great.”

“thanks,” you said, smiling “I never had the chance to wear something like this before but since silco is in a good mood…”

“and it suits you. everyone’s eyeing you like a piece of meat, I don’t know if you can tell.”

“yeah, well. they don’t matter,” you looked around “where’s sevika, by the way?”

because she was the only one that mattered.

she was the reason why you even showed up looking like this, why you got out of your comfort zone even though these types of settings weren’t your thing, but you tried, because you wanted to prove yourself to her.

thieram turned to the side and pointed to his left “she arrived about an hour ago.”

you stood up and were about make your way towards her when the sight that greeted you quickly stopped you dead in your tracks, all previous excitement dying as you sunk to the nearest stool.

because there, in her usual booth, sat sevika with not one, but two girls cozied up against her sides while one of them was practically sitting on her lap, and the other was kissing along her neck while a cigarillo was dangling from her mouth. making more room for them to grind against her as she whispered in one of their ears, causing the girl to giggle as she grabbed sevika’s jaw and connected their lips.

you took a step back as your chest begun to feel heavy, while the room suddenly felt ten times more crowded as you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the scene in front of you because of course, this just had to happen.

how dare you think you had a chance when she went out of her way to bring two of babette’s girls to this blasted party when she already visits them on a regular basis. how dare you think you ever stood a chance against these girls, with their pristine clothing, nicely styled hair and perfect bodies.

you wanted the world to swallow you whole.

“hey, you okay?” thieram asked as your breathing became shallow.

you nodded, harshly swiping the tears that threatened to spill at the corners of your eyes as you walked back to the exit.

“y-yeah, I’m just-“

in your stupor, you didn’t even realize a man was behind you not until you bumped into him, causing him to spill his drink and cuss you out as you started apologizing, creating a commotion.

“I’m so sorry!” you said, your cheeks heating up as you looked around the room before your eyes landed on her again.

but this time, sevika was staring straight at you.

swallowing nervously, you pushed past the sea of people and made your way out of the bar, not even bothering to say goodbye to thieram as you busted through the doors of the back exit, breathing heavily as you slid against the wall of the bar, with your hands on your knees and your tears ruining your makeup.

you should’ve known this was a mistake. you mentally scolded yourself over and over because who were you fooling when you thought sevika would spare a glance your way? even if you dolled yourself up, in the end sevika had countless of women to choose from, and you were never going to be an option. no matter how hard you tried.

stewing in self-pity, you wiped away at your cheeks and stood back up, planning to just head back home and forget the night even happened when the doors of the bar suddenly burst open, making you jump as you whipped around, and your breath hitched when you were met with sevika’s steely grey eyes.

she assessed your frenzied state, staring just a bit longer at your attire, scanning your legs up to your thighs until it stopped at your chest, which was heaving erratically, drawing attention to your cleavage.

“leaving so soon?” she quipped, not hiding the shameful way she was ogling at you “especially when you look this pretty?”

biting your tongue, you tried so hard not to let her words get to you. no. this is what she does, she butters you up and makes you think you have a chance then she turns around and makes you feel like utter shit. this is what she does and you’re not going to sit around making an idiot out of yourself.

“I’m just not feeling good is all.” you said as you attempted to walk past her.

but you were immediately stopped when she grabbed your arm, though her touch was gentle “let me walk you home. it’s not safe especially when you’re out here dressed like that.”

you couldn’t stop yourself, you were filled with so much unnecessary bitterness that as soon as those words left her mouth, you could only scoff before ripping away your arm, causing her to look at you with her eyebrow raised.

“I can handle myself, just go back to those girls that were all over you. it seemed like you were having a great time with them anyways.” you spat, attempting to bristle past her.

however, you gasped when she not only blocked your path but abruptly pushed your body against the wall of the building. not too harsh but with enough force to make you look up at her in compliance.

she towered over your smaller form and took your chin using her prosthetic hand, her metal fingers making you shiver as her breath mingled with your own.

“what’s with the attitude?”

“just let me go-“

“the fuck I will,” she cut you off, her tone harsh “now, I’ll ask again, what’s with the attitude? you’re never like this.”

you clenched your jaw “never like what? you don’t even know me enough to make assumptions of how I normally act.”

“like a bitch is what I’m saying,” she said through her teeth “seriously, what crawled up your ass? you show up looking like this and you can’t even be bothered to stick around let alone have a drink,”

“why should I?” you shook your head “you looked too busy anyways. just forget it and go back to those-“

“what’s with you and the girls I brough-“

“because why waste your time on me?” the dam finally broke, and all your thoughts came flooding out as sevika blinked at you, dumbfounded “you never give me the time of the day even though we’ve been working for so long, and it had to take me getting injured for you to even strike up a conversation with me. you’re always at the gardens and I know it’s none of my business what you do with your time but just…”

you looked to your feet, regret washing in “just forget it. it’s so stupid.”

however, her grip on you only tightened “no, you’re right. it is none of your business, that’s why I want to know why you’re acting this way. I’m not a mind reader, princess. you can’t expect me to know what you want and you haven’t really made it easy either. you think I wanted to wait that long to approach you? talking goes both ways. and you avoiding me so much in the past hasn’t really given me the chance to get to know you. fuck, I even thought…”

you waited for her to finish as she faced away from you “thought what?” you said, your voice merely a whisper.

she sighed as she pressed her body closer to you “I thought you didn’t like me. you never a spoke a word to me but I’ve always noticed you. you’re so good at your job but you only kept to yourself. I just thought you found me and the others too vulgar. I get it. we’re different. but then you had a drink with me and you seemed genuinely interested…”

you inhaled sharply “I was, and still am.”

“then what’s the matter? why are you acting like you’re disgusted with me all of a sudden?”

“it’s not you! it’s just…” you let out a shaky breath “it’s just hard to be around you because I’ve always noticed you too. I was just intimidated but I’ve admired your work ethic, just everything about you really, so much that I even… god, it’s embarrassing.”

“no,” she pulled you closer “tell me,”

you swallowed the lump in your throat, looking away “it’s silly.”

she lifted her flesh hand and pushed away the strands of hair that fell over your face. leaning closer that you felt her lips brush against your cheek.

“you got a little crush on me is what you’re saying?” her mouth quirked into a teasing grin as you groaned, trying to push her away.

“you’re such an ass…” you muttered as her hands slowly maneuvered down to your thighs, and suddenly, she was lifting you by her arms and against the wall as you squealed.

her nose nudged your jaw, leaving a soft kiss underneath and your hands found purchase on her strong shoulders.

“you should’ve told me sooner…” she purred, her voice deep and enticing “it would’ve saved me a hell lot of money from visiting the gardens when I could’ve had you all this time.”

you weren’t given the chance to speak when she suddenly captured your lips in a fervent kiss, making you gasp as she lets out a growl hearing your needy whines.

eventually, you surrendered to it, moving in sync with the frenzied way she was kissing you. almost as if she was just as desperate for this as you were.

you rolled your hips against her torso and sevika lets out a chuckle at your urgency, taking your legs as she wrapped them around her waist.

she took the ends of your dress and pulled them up, tearing your tights down and you let out a whine “s-sev… we’re outside-“

“then let them hear,” her breathing was staggered from all the movement “I’ve waited for this for so long.“

you bit your lip “yeah?”

she nodded, slipping your tights off your legs and discarding them to the side “if you think whatever feelings you’ve had for me was one-sided, you thought wrong.” she kissed your lips with bruising force and you could only moan against her mouth “ever since I laid eyes on silco’s pretty little informant, you’ve always been on my mind.”

her fingers felt down your covered cunt, and you writhed against her palm as she pushed past the waistband of your panties and slowly slid them off, teasing you as your slick met her calloused fingers, making her head spin “you’ve been waiting for this haven’t you, princess?” she asked softly.

you nodded as you begun soaking her palm with your juices, riding her fingers and she parted your folds, thumbing at your clit before she slid one finger in, feeling at your gummy walls before adding a second finger and soon, she was scissoring them in you as your forehead dropped to her shoulder.

jostling in her hold as your body shook, she curled her fingers and started a slow pace that got you moaning her name, and she nodded at your desperate sounds “yeah, that’s it, baby. let everybody know how much you needed this.”

she bent her head down and nipped at your jaw while you humped her scarred hand in earnest “you should’ve fucking told me sooner. do you know how much torture it was to see you walk around the office, all pretty and shy, and not wanting to make a move because I thought you didn’t like me? when all this time your tight little pussy has been weeping for me to fill it.”

you cried out, getting closer to that awaited peak especially when she starts to piston her thick fingers inside you at a maddening speed “I needed this so much, sev. fuck.” you admitted, completely lack of shame.

“I know, baby. now that I know how much you’ve needed this I’m never letting you out of my sight again.” she said and you opened your tear stained eyes to look at her.

“do I feel better than the girls you’ve had before?” you whispered and she nodded, an urgency to it as if she wanted to drill it inside your head that she means every word.

“fuck yeah, baby. I can’t wait to have you in every way that I like. on my tongue, around my fingers…” you let out the most obscene moan at her words “and my cock.”

your orgasm tore through you like a punch to the gut, your mouth falling open into a guttural cry as you creamed against her fingers while she kept curling them inside you, already feeling overstimulated while she talked you through it.

“that’s it…” she said in awe “you feel so good, baby.”

she slowly pulled her fingers out of you and you whined at the loss. but your eyes widened when suddenly sevika planted your wobbly legs down onto the ground and knelt down in front of you and started lapping away at your soaked pussy, her pupils blown wide as she began cleaning you up.

once she was done, she stood up and helped you into your underwear, breathing heavily before connecting her lips with yours. you melted as you tasted yourself on her tongue and the kiss was warmer, gentler this time.

she pulled away, leaning her forehead against yours “let me take you out?”

it took a while for your mind to process her words, still fuzzy from the aftermath of your orgasm but once it sunk in, you could only chuckle as you smiled up at her.

“usually you’d ask that first then try to have sex with me in an alley…”

there was a playful glint in her eyes “what can I say, I couldn’t wait any longer.”

you hummed, cupping her face as you drew her in for another kiss.

“yeah, me neither.”

[rafes-slut]

Pillow princess

Summary: you were always pillow princess and now that he makes you go on top you whining about it and making him pisses until he takes mater back in his hands

Warnings: Smut, angst, power play, manipulation, rough sex, whining, frustration, control, inexperienced reader, explicit content.

----

You’ve always loved the way Rafe took control in the bedroom. He was dominant, always making sure you were more than satisfied while you simply laid back, enjoying the ride. It had always been the same: you were the pillow princess, and he was the one doing all the work. Not that you minded, though. Rafe seemed to love it, always guiding you through everything, his hands all over you, making sure you didn’t have to do anything but feel good.

But tonight? Tonight was different. Rafe had made it clear before that he was getting bored of the same routine. He wanted something new—something that would force you to do more.

“Get on top,” he said, his voice low and commanding as he pulled you closer. You looked at him, surprised, not sure if you heard him right. He hadn’t said anything like that before, but you knew better than to question him. The way his eyes darkened, the way his jaw tightened, told you that this wasn’t a suggestion.

You complied, climbing on top of him, straddling his hips as he leaned back against the headboard, watching you intently. You hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do. It was always so much easier when he did everything for you.

“Come on, baby,” Rafe smirked, his eyes flashing with impatience. “I want you to work for it. Don’t just sit there.”

But you didn’t move. You just stared at him, feeling a little awkward, unsure how to take control. He was always the one to set the pace, always the one making you feel good. Now, with him watching you, expecting something from you, you felt exposed.

Rafe’s patience was wearing thin. He wasn’t used to this. He wasn’t used to having to wait for you to do anything.

“Come on,” he said again, this time his tone a little sharper, a little less patient. “I said, work for it.”

You tried to move, but it was slow. You were whining under your breath, frustrated with how hard it was to take control, how unnatural it felt. Rafe didn’t help you. He wasn’t guiding you, wasn’t making it easier. His hands were resting behind his head, relaxed, waiting for you to do something. You could see his jaw tightening with every second that ticked by, his frustration mounting.

“Stop whining,” he snapped, his voice cold and harsh. “You’re not even trying. What the hell is this?”

You bit your lip, trying again, but it was clear you weren’t putting in any real effort. You were too comfortable in your role as the one who just got to enjoy everything without lifting a finger. Rafe wasn’t having it tonight.

He grabbed your hips suddenly, his fingers digging into your skin as he forced you down harder, making you gasp. “Move,” he commanded, his voice laced with anger now. “Do it. Work for it like I asked.”

You whimpered, your body still tense, the unfamiliar role making it harder than you expected. Rafe’s gaze was harsh, his lips pressed into a thin line as he watched you struggle.

"Is this too hard for you?" he mocked, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "You're so used to me doing all the work, aren't you? You’re not even trying to make this good."

You couldn’t find your rhythm. The pressure of his eyes on you, the expectations weighing down on you—it was all too much. Your movements were half-hearted, slow and uncoordinated, making Rafe’s patience run out faster than you expected.

With a frustrated growl, he sat up, still holding your hips firmly, but now he was guiding you with more force, making your movements sharper, harder. You gasped as he took over just enough to make sure you weren’t slacking, but not enough to make it feel like the usual routine.

“God,” he hissed, pulling you down harder against him. “Stop being lazy.”

The more you whined, the more pissed off he got. His grip on your hips tightened, forcing you to move in a way that made your body ache in all the right places—but it wasn’t enough to please him. You weren’t working hard enough for it, and Rafe wasn’t going to give you any slack. His face twisted with annoyance as he glared at you, his body completely still now, making it clear he wasn’t going to help you anymore.

“I’m not your fucking pillow,” he muttered under his breath, his voice colder than it had ever been.

You tried again, your body moving with less hesitation this time, but it still wasn’t enough. The more effort you put in, the more frustrated Rafe became with you. He was seething now, the anger clear in his eyes. He wasn’t going to let you off the hook.

“Fuck this,” he growled, before flipping you onto your back, pinning you under him with a force that made your head spin. “I’m done letting you get away with this.”

Rafe didn’t wait for you to say anything, didn’t wait for you to catch your breath. He took control again, but now, there was a hardness in his touch, an edge to the way he moved, that sent shockwaves through your body. He was angry, yes—but also determined to make you learn that when he wanted something, you better damn well give it to him.

As he moved above you, taking what he wanted from your body, you finally understood. The effort. The work. Rafe wasn’t just about taking care of you anymore—he wanted you to show him that you could give him something in return. And now, with his frustration boiling over, he wasn’t letting you get away with being lazy. Not this time.

[keferon]

Two Peas in a Pod: part 2/?

*slips another piece into your mailbox*

_____________________

Jazz was still feeling a little woozy from his donation in the dark hours of the morning. Blaster had breakfast changed from the usual to something that felt more like a treat, probably a reward for his good behaviour, and to help his body recover. Fish heavy in proteins, fat, all that healthy stuff. Something that normally he would have tried to savour, but he wolfed it down from excitement. Too many questions ran through his head, and most he couldn't bring himself to voice.

The mer, the mer would pull through. Blaster told him about how he had saved their life with his blood. Praised him high and low. Because Blaster knew how Jazz felt about seeing blood, about how hard blood tests were for him, and that was only a tiny vial. Not three big bags of it. Jazz hadn't seen how much they had taken – because he had kept his eye closed until they left in a hurry –, and hearing about it made him dizzy for other reasons, but he honestly felt real proud of himself.

It was a new feeling, different from other moments of pride – like when he figured out the lock codes. Yeah, this gave him butterflies and the drive to help more.

Blaster laughed when Jazz offered that the vets could take more if the other mer needed it. His handler didn't think it would be, but he would pass it on to the vet team.

Jazz's morning checks were a little off, expected with having a little less fluids and feeling off-balance, but it was kept short and quick. Blaster told him that if he learned anything more, he'd tell him next time he came by and then hurried back down to the staff area. Blaster was needed elsewhere, understandably as there weren't many mer experts here, though he did leave Jazz his waterproof stereo if he wanted to play some of his favourites.

But, the orca mer was far too busy causing a whirlpool from the laps he was swimming. He was too excited to sit still, and embarrassment be damned he started practising old vocals. He didn't remember much of his mother tongue, and he was pretty sure that his pronunciation was off, that or had one hell of an accent. Echo-speech was even more rusty. And once he had gone over and over what he could recall, Jazz began to really worry. A few sentences and handful or so of words was all he had? Gods, I hope I can at least make a decent first impression. Blaster said they were just like me, so hopefully, that will give me some starting points.

More than he cared to count, Jazz would swim into the shallow waters of the medical bay and hope to see something through that window. But no one ever came close enough for him to hear any news of the mer. He couldn't even see anything on his radar, wherever they had done treatment, it wasn't in the hospital ward. It almost felt like he was being purposely kept in the dark.

And just when Jazz was starting to worry that things had taken a bad turn, a group of staff turned up around four pm. He wasn't able to ask any questions, or rather they refused to answer. Shooing him away as they got to work. Starting with closing the gate to the bay to 'keep him out'. Jazz could easily climb those walls, but that wasn't the point. Even if the gate window was closed, he could pick up that they were setting up the water hammock. But it wasn't until he heard the cautionary beeping of the hoist lift approaching that it dawned on him – the mer was coming. Now.

"Jazz," Blaster called, "… Jazz," he blew the training whistle and finally got his mer's attention. "Stop pacing and get over here."

"But–" Jazz looked back longingly up the wall.

"Jazz," his tone dropped to a firm one, and Jazz begrudgingly swam over to the pier. The human crouched and made sure that they held eye contact before he spoke. "I need you to promise me that you will stay in your enclosure."

He sunk a little, trying to play into his cuteness, but being far too anxious to really pull it off. "What do you mean?"

"Jazz," now warning him. Blaster knew full well that he was more than capable of getting into or out of places he shouldn't, bloody Houdini mermaid, "this is serious. Things are going well, we want to keep it that way. Which means keeping things calm and feeling safe. You're excited, I get it, we all are. But in about an hour, they'll be waking up and – from past experience seen with wild Mers – they will likely freak out. And the last thing we need is you hauling your tail over that wall and making things worse. Understand?"

The beeping was louder how and the hiss of hydraulics caused Jazz to look up. The arm of the lift was visible over the wall. They're here!

"Jazz," Blaster hopelessly called for his attention once more.

Within moments, a massive bundle was carefully raised, the staff calling out and coordinating. Jazz's gaze was fixed on the black and white fluke poking out, it was the only part of them he could see, and his heart began to race. Once they became hidden by the wall again, Jazz moved back to pacing by the gate without even thinking. Listening to people hopping into the water to unstrap the mer and call back n' forth. "Careful, careful! – Watch the head! – Someone give me a hand over here! – We're clear on this side! – Keep the head up!"

Really starting to sound like a broken record, Blaster chirped the whistle and called out to him again. The expression he wore must have been pretty pitiful because the look on Blaster's face dropped. "If I open the view port… will you promise me that you will wait, that you will stay in your enclosure?"

"I promise," he answered hastily, placing his hands on the gate, over the panel that would slide open.

"And that you will wait until everything is in the clear, till the staff come to oversee the integration. There will be no rushing things and no asking staff when we will open the gate."

"I promise," he repeated, trying not to beg.

Satisfied, Blaster pulled out his radio, "Blaster to Control; when the team is out of the Mer enclosure's medical bay, open the view port. Jazz's stress is mounting without a visual."

"Can do," came a quick reply.

Though, opening the panel was not. Several minutes went by, the hoist had cleared out, and much of the staff had returned to their other duties. Only two remained double-checking the mer's breathing and pulse. The moment that the last of them left, Jazz heard the lock disengage, and he retracted his hands as the panel shifted and began to slide open. The window was too small to get more than his hand – maybe up to his elbow if he wanted to push it – through, and sat just at water level– any movement sending water hopping to either side. But it gave him a clear view of the surface area inside.

Oh.

Oh. Jazz stopped breathing. While the mer's body was mostly supported by the fabric of the hammock, cradling them on their side, effectively hiding most of them from Jazz's angle. Propped up on a soft floating platform was the mer's head, face towards the gate. Sharp features and elegantly shaped finials, with flattering lines of their markings complimenting the peaceful expression as they slept. The butterflies from earlier came back stronger than ever, his heart thundering as words fumbled from Jazz's lips, "he's beautiful…"

_____________________

-GLC

Orca Prowl really is just-- too fucking pretty, omg, I'm living through Jazz in this moment like when I first saw your designs of him.

I'm more than happy to continue writing for you, you bring me so much joy. I screamed when I saw how much you liked it. If you have any requests you would like me to add to the story, leave it in the tags or comments ♡ I now plan to continue until the tsunami and a bit afterwards, maybe more, we'll see~

Upd: There is a next part!

Previous

Oh. MY GOD. OKAY ALRIGHT OKAY ALRIGHT OKA

I'M ABOUT TO START PACING IN CIRCLES JUST LIKE JAZZ OVER HERE KDLCNFJFLFB PL E A S E THIS IS SO GOOD. The tension?? You can fucking TASTE it IT'S SO GREAT GLC I LOVE YOU

The way it all starts at night and then you (as a reader) have all this additional time to boil in your anticipation?? So fucking great. Like you can really feel how little power Jazz has over the wholse situation. The plot is moving but he doesn't have any saying in it. Well. Yet heheh

Anyway haha. Im normal and I made some art>:D

[gabseyoo]

BLANKETS — MIYA ATSUMU

content: msby!atsumu, established relationship, fluff, female reader. word count: 0,7k.

“Did I do something wrong?”

Atsumu asked, stepping into the room with only a towel slung low around his hips, his damp blonde hair clinging messily to his forehead. His skin still glistened with the remnants of steam, and he left wet footprints on the hardwood floor.

After a long, exhausting day, all he wanted was to crawl into bed, snuggle into his beautiful girlfriend’s arms, and drift off to sleep under the familiar blanket you shared.

But something was different tonight.

The first few steps of his nighttime routine went as usual—you were already in bed, reading a book and waiting for him—but the beloved gray blanket was neatly folded on his side of the bed, while a soft pink one covered your legs.

His eyes flickered to yours in confusion. “Why the question?” You asked, glancing up from your book. Then you noticed his stare and let out a quiet, “Oh.”

“You mad at me?” He pressed, his lower lip jutting out just a little, already preparing for the worst.

“I’m not mad.” You reassured him with a small smile. “It’s just an idea I had.” Before he could ask why, you continued, “Remember what we talked about? About, uh… your sleeping habits?”

Atsumu blinked. Oh. That talk.

Of course, he remembered. Two months ago. It had been two weeks after you moved in together, when love and domestic bliss were still new and shiny. You’d sweetly mentioned that his nighttime antics were, well, a little… chaotic. Sometimes throwing an arm over your face, sometimes draping a leg across you like an overly affectionate octopus. Which were completely fine for you, but the one thing you couldn’t deal with was that he was a shameless blanket thief.

He’d promised to work on it. But sleep-logic Atsumu and awake-logic Atsumu were two entirely different creatures.

So, you had tried everything. Tucking the blanket under you, securing it beneath the mattress—nothing worked. And so, you’d come up with a simple solution: separate blankets.

Atsumu, however, was clearly not a fan of this idea.

With a dramatic sigh, he shuffled to the closet, every step a performance of exaggerated woe. He tugged out a pair of boxers, his expression the embodiment of a heartbroken puppy.

“Baby…” You called to him, your voice gentle but laced with an I-know-you’re-about-to-be-dramatic tone.

“If you want to divorce me, just say so.” He mumbled, slipping on his boxers. His shoulders slumped, and he looked as if he might melt into a puddle right there on the floor.

You rolled your eyes, fighting a smile. “We’re not even married.”

“Exactly! That’s worse! You could just leave me. No legal ties, no paperwork, just gone—poof!” He flailed his arms for emphasis. “And then I’ll have to fight for the house in court while you take the dog that we don’t even have yet.”

“Atsumu.”

“And before I know it, you’ll find someone who sleeps like a corpse and doesn’t steal blankets, and you’ll never be cold again and—”

You shut your book, the sound soft but definitive. He stopped mid-ramble, watching as you set it on the nightstand and reached for his hand.

“Hey.”

He blinked at you, his expression still a perfect blend of pitiful and hopeful.

“You know it’s not about you being a problem, right?” You said, your thumb drawing lazy circles on his hand.

“...It’s not?” His lip wobbled just a bit, milking the moment for all it was worth.

You shook your head and gently pulled him closer. The distance between you dissolved, and with it, a little bit of his drama. “No, dummy. I just need sleep too.”

He exhaled, all his performative misery unraveling into a dramatic slump of relief. “Fine.” He muttered, dragging his feet as you coaxed him into bed. “But I don’t like it.”

You giggled and he immediately flopped down, half on top of you as usual, his weight pinning you to the mattress like a very clingy, very warm blanket of his own.

“What if we just get a bigger comforter?” He asked, muffled against your shoulder.

You hummed thoughtfully, fingers combing through his damp hair. “That might work.”

“We can go buy it tomorrow.”

“We can.” You agreed, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “But until then, separate blankets.”

[crowsofdarkness]

After weeks of arguing, you thought your relationship with Bucky was near the end. That was until you held something positive in your hand.

18+ CW's below the cut(angst, language, unprotected pinv in Bucky's computer chair, Bucky having a sudden breeding kink)

The door slamming in the small confines of my apartment echoed causing me to jump, doing whatever I could to keep the tears at bay. I wouldn't cry, not for him. Not for Bucky.  Even though the moment he walked in the door, all I wanted to do was cry not only because of the constant arguing but because I missed him terribly. He was here physically but emotionally, Bucky was checked out. 

"Asshole," I grumbled under my breath, eyes boring daggers into the closed door of his office/studio. 

It had been weeks of non stop fighting yet barely speaking to each other. He’d been gone on missions constantly so he could avoid being home. When I needed him the most, he was gone. 

Ignoring the thoughts plaguing my existence lately, I blew out a shaky breath and forced myself to turn back towards the kitchen counter.  The exhaustion had been buried deep in my bones for the last couple of weeks and I didn’t think it had anything to do with working almost every day. All I wanted to do was curl in bed to sleep the rest of the evening away. Even though Bucky's words from our fight this morning before I left for work kept pestering me. 

"I haven't thought much about the future. I'm trying to focus on getting myself better, mentally, before having kids." 

I asked him in the middle of yet another argument where he thought this relationship was going because I made the mistake of mentioning how I felt like things were stale between us. Bucky didn't think of the future. Of our future. He only thought of the now. 

It had been weeks of arguing. Weeks of walking on eggshells around each other. Weeks of not having sex. And weeks of keeping a secret to myself. Now that I knew how Bucky felt, I couldn't decide on if I should continue to keep it to myself or tell him which could potentially ruin everything. 

The urge to cry burned in my throat as I snatched the bag off of the kitchen counter and locked myself in the bathroom. I stared at my reflection in the mirror for a long moment, noting the dark circles under my eyes. 

Averting my gaze away from the mirror, I dug out the box from the bag and nearly choked on a breath when I read over the letters once more. I nearly dropped it in the pharmacy when the realization began to sink in. 

Pregnancy Test. 

I had missed my period last month and it was coming up on when I was supposed to get it this month but with how I’d been feeling, I knew I wouldn’t be getting my period this month either. 

That night was a night where we had a huge blowout argument, both of us questioning if we loved another. Deep down we knew we still loved each other and it was wrong for us to question it. But both of us were stubborn so instead of admitting our love, we decided to fuck out our frustrations; Bucky dragging me to the shower with him as I wrapped my legs around his midsection, marking his neck as mine while his cock slammed into me. Afterwards, Bucky helped me to our bed and apologized for the fight as he held me against his chest. I took the morning after pill later that afternoon once we realized we weren’t safe which is why I was hoping the test would be negative. Maybe the reason why I missed my period was because of all the stress I’d been under. 

“Might as well get this over with,” I grumbled under my breath while ripping open the box. 

It came with two tests and I figured it would be better if I used both so after peeing on both sticks, I set them on the counter and washed my hands. These next five minutes were going to be incredibly slow so after I changed into one of Bucky’s shirts and opted out of wearing pants, I paced the bathroom.

“Shit,” I clutched my chest when the timer on my phone went off. 

As I reached for the tests which were overturned, I paused for a moment wondering if maybe I should have been doing this with Bucky. 

“If he wasn’t such an asshole,” I muttered to the thought in my head and turned over the two tests. 

My heart was in my ears, in my throat, and in the depths of my stomach when I saw the one word that sealed our fate. 

Positive. 

Both tests were positive. 

“Fuck me,” I breathed while resting a hand on my stomach, the tears finally falling. 

There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that even though we were fighting, Bucky would be fine with whatever I decided to do. It was my choice. But would he stay with me? The Avengers seemed to be all over the world, helping people who needed it, hence why Bucky had been in a mood lately. I knew his anger wasn't directly related to me but because he’d been overworked. I also knew that didn’t give him the right to take it out on me. 

Pulling up Bucky’s text thread on my phone, shaking fingers worked out a text even though he was still in the next room. 

Me: I need to talk to you. It’s important. Can you meet me in the living room please? 

Bucky 🩶: Not right now. 

With a snarl, I snatched the tests off the bathroom counter and stormed out into his office, letting the door smack against the wall. Bucky didn’t bother to look away from the book on his lap as he sat on his computer chair. 

“Congratulations. You’re going to be a father,” I snapped before turning to walk away. 

The chair creaked as Bucky leaned forward to gaze down at his desk, a soft breath catching in his throat. 

“Doll,” his vibranium fingers grazed my wrist, halting me. “Wait.” 

“What? Are you going to claim I’m faking this?” I snapped, slicing him with my gaze. 

“I-,” Bucky’s face softened as he looked back at the pregnancy tests. “You’re pregnant?” 

I let the anger fade momentarily when I heard the sincerity in his voice; the slight excitement. 

“Yeah, I guess so. I missed my period last month and I’ve been so exhausted lately. Not to mention my boobs have been really sore,” I cringed while running a hand over my chest. 

Bucky glanced up at my breasts with a small smirk but then he let his gaze lower on my stomach where it rested for a long few beats of silence. Fear of what he would do or say weighed heavy on my shoulders causing me to remain frozen in front of him. The air in the room was thick with an unreadable tension and the ringing in my ears was deafening. I couldn’t even hear our shared breathing as Bucky continued to stare at my stomach before his large hands rested there.

“Hi,” he breathed. “I’m your dad.”

I dragged a finger over his cheek, those ocean eyes I adored so much gazed up at me. “I’m sorry.” 

“For what, doll?” Bucky asked with furrowed brows. 

“For everything. For avoiding fixing things between us by working non stop.”

I rattled off which made him link fingers with me and brought me down onto his lap, both of us now sitting in his computer chair. He rested his hands over my hip, slowly raising up the hem of my shirt so he could drag calloused fingers over my skin. It was the most contact we’ve had in a week and I leaned farther into him. His nose dragged over my jaw, breathing me in. 

“I’m sorry for all of the hurtful things I’ve said. I’m sorry for ignoring your feelings when I should have asked you up front what was wrong. I’m sorry for locking myself away with work instead of fixing things between us,” Bucky apologized. 

I looked deeper into his eyes, taking in the slight freckles on his face. “Can I be honest?” 

When Bucky nodded, I continued. “You freaked me out when you said you never thought of our future and now that I’m pregnant, I’m worried you’re going to leave.” 

“Absolutely not,” he cupped my cheek, dragging his thumb just underneath my eye to wipe away the stray tears. “I’ve never thought about the future until you came into my life, doll. I might not express it enough, which is my fault but please know you’re in my future. Especially now.” 

His free hand grazed over my stomach and I nodded into the grasp on my cheek, leaving a kiss on the inside of his palm. 

“Can you promise me one thing?” I asked. 

“Anything.” 

Biting my lip, I spoke. “Can you promise not to propose to me just because I’m pregnant? I want you to propose because you want to, not because you feel like you have too.”

Something flashed in his eyes but Bucky eventually nodded. “Of course.”

While sitting on his lap, the chair continued to creak underneath our shared weight and I sighed, ready to get off which caused him to tighten his grip on me. 

“Stay,” he breathed in the crook of my neck. “I need to show you how sorry I am.” 

Quickly, Bucky’s lips were on mine in a leisurely kiss. It started off like how our first kiss did, like he was testing the waters again. I nearly sobbed into the kiss when I felt the love pour out of him. I’d been desperate to feel this way again. With his hands on my hips, he began moving me up and down his lap, the hardness of his cock pressing against the thin material of my panties. His name fell from my lips, almost immediately swallowed by his tongue as it explored my mouth; tasting me. 

Vibranium fingers slinked up my shirt to graze over my back before Bucky tossed it over my head and down to the floor, breaking our kiss. Lust bleed in his already dark eyes as he looked at my stomach, his cock straining in his jeans. 

“Shit,” he groaned while pressing kisses along my chest. “I can’t wait to see you round with my baby.” 

A moan fell from my lips as I exposed more of myself to Bucky, his teeth now grazing over my nipples. Along with my sore breasts, my nipples were extra sensitive. 

“Bucky,” I pulled on his shirt. 

He immediately understood and helped me work it off. Immediately my nails raked along his chest as my lips met his again in a fiery kiss, this one more intense than the last. With a gentle tap to my ass, I raised my hips slightly so Bucky could drag down my panties with a bit of maneuvering. However with his jeans, it would have taken way more manuerving on his part to slide them off completely. 

“We should move to the bed,” I suggested, breathless. 

Bucky shook his head, keeping his lips on the current mark he was working on my neck. “Absolutely not. I want you to sit on my cock while I sit on the chair.” 

Feeling feisty, I pulled away from him slightly to gaze down at him. “Really? This has nothing to do with Steve making it slip the other day how he and his girlfriend did something eerily similar to this.” 

He rolled his eyes with a groan. “Please don’t bring up Steve having sex right now.” 

When he motioned towards his unzipped jeans, I let out a soft giggle and then reached my hand in his briefs to grab his cock, already so warm and hard. 

“I’ve missed this,” I whispered, gathering his precum to drag it over his head. 

“Doll,” my name came out through gritted teeth as Bucky rested his head on my shoulder. “I need to be inside of you. Please.”

Pulling his cock out from his briefs completely, I dragged it between my folds a few strokes before sinking down on him; both of us letting out a loud groan of pleasure.  It had been so long since we’ve felt this so I knew we wouldn’t last long. 

“Fuck,” Bucky strangled out while wrapping his arms around me to bring me closer. “I can’t wait to watch your belly get round with my baby.”

I mewled in response, mouth busy with leaving dark marks across his neck while one of my hands slipped between our bodies to press circles on my clit, bringing me closer to the edge. 

His cock twitched inside of me, indicating he was close when his hips stilled. “You'd look so beautiful pregnant with my kid. Your belly and tits-oh shit." 

“Don’t stop,” I begged while riding him faster this time, the chair nearly falling over. 

“Doll,” Bucky’s voice was strained so I brushed away the hair from his sweat slicked forehead. “I’m going to fill you up over and over again.” 

I nodded as the coil in my stomach began to ignite in a blaze of ecstasy, my orgasm about to snap. 

“I love you,” I cried out when my body finally snapped, arousal coating Bucky’s cock. 

With one final thrust, he followed me over the edge as he filled me with his cum and breathlessly announced his love for me as well. Falling into him with exhaustion, Bucky lifted me from the chair and carried me through our apartment towards the bathroom. 

“Are you alright?” He questioned while still carrying me. 

I pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’m okay.”

Setting me on the closed toilet seat, he turned on the shower and removed his pants while we waited for the steam to bellow around us. 

[minniesfiles]

SEVENTEEN AS GIRL DADS

❧ PAIRING; ot13 x reader

❧ GENRE; fluff, very light angst

❧ TAGS/WARNINGS; tooth rotting fluff, sprinkle of angst in some parts, some dramatic situations but fluffy ending, established relationship, first time parents

𐚁₊⊹

SEUNGCHEOL

Seungcheol was sitting at his desk leaned over his laptop as his fingers quickly moved across the keyboard. His brows were knotted in concentration as his eyes were fixed intently on the screen. With the deadline approaching, he was committed to completing this document before the end of the evening.

Then suddenly the door to his study room bursted open, slamming against the wall. Before he could react, a small figure rushed inside with her tiny feet pounding against the wooden floor. His five-year-old daughter, Haeun, ran straight towards him crying out loud with her red and tear-streaked face.

Hot on her heels was you, looking frustrated and exhausted. “Haeun, come back here!” you called as you stepped into the room.

But Haeun didn’t stop. She launched herself onto her father’s lap and buried her face into his chest. Her little body trembled as she cried.

Seungcheol’s heart clenched. He immediately forgot about his laptop, the document, and the upcoming deadline. Nothing mattered more than his daughter’s distress. He wrapped his arms around her small frame and rubbed soothing circles on her back.

“Shh, princess. What’s wrong?” he asked gently, tilting his head to look down at her.

“Mummy said…I c-can’t have…ice cream before dinner!” she managed to get out through hiccups and sniffles.

Seungcheol barely suppressed a smile. He glanced up at you, who crossed your arms and let out a tired sigh.

“She threw a tantrum when I said no,” you explained, shaking your head. “Then ran straight to you for backup.”

Your husband exhaled softly and pressed a kiss to the top of your daughter’s head. It was a small thing, really, but to a five-year-old, it was the end of the world.

“Hey, princess,” he murmured, gently pulling Haeun back so he could look into her teary eyes. “I know you really want ice cream, but Mummy’s right. If you eat it now, you won’t be hungry for dinner. And you need a good meal first, don’t you?”

Haeun sniffled as her lips quivered. “But…but I really wanted it…”

“I know, princess” he said as he wiped away a stray tear from her cheek. “How about this? If you eat all your dinner, we’ll have ice cream together afterward. Does that sound like a deal?”

Haeun hesitated, her big brown eyes searching his. Then, after a moment, she nodded slowly. “Okay…”

You raised an eyebrow. “Really? I said the same thing, and she threw a fit.”

Seungcheol rinned. “Dad privilege.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled. “Fine. But only if she eats her vegetables.”

Haeun pouted but nodded again. “Okay Mummy.”

Seungcheol lifted her off his lap and set her on the floor. “Now, go wash your face, and we’ll have dinner soon.” Haeun gave him a quick hug before trotting off.

You sighed and leaned against the doorframe. “I swear, she’s got you wrapped around her little finger.”

Seungcheol chuckled as he turned back to his laptop. “Yeah…and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

JEONGHAN

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon when your six-year-old, Jiwoo, looked up from her colouring book and studied her father’s long, smooth hair. Jeonghan was sitting on the sofa reading a book as his dark brown locks brushed over his shoulders effortlessly. You often teased him about how unfair it was that his hair looked better than yours with minimum maintenance.

Jiwoo tapped her chin thoughtfully, and an idea formed in her head. She set her crayons down and hopped off the sofa, marching over to her father.

“Daddy?” she asked sweetly, tilting her head.

Jeonghan looked up from his book. “Yes sweetheart?”

“Can I braid your hair?”

“Braid my hair?” he blinked.

Jiwoo nodded eagerly. “Please! Your hair is so pretty, and I want to make it even prettier!”

Jeonghan chuckled and set his book aside. “Well, how can I say no to that? Alright, let’s do it.”

Jiwoo clapped her hands in excitement and grabbed his wrist, leading him toward her bedroom. “You have to sit on my bed! And you can’t move, okay?”

“Yes ma’am,” he said, grinning as he obediently sat on the small pink bed which his legs barely fitted.

“Wait here!” she instructed before running over to her little play hairdressing station in the corner of her room. She rummaged through her plastic vanity and began gathering her toy hairbrush, colourful clips, and a few ribbons she saved from old presents.

Jeonghan patiently sat with hands resting on his lap as his daughter returned with her arms full of supplies. She placed everything on the bed beside him, then climbed up behind him and ran her tiny fingers through his hair.

“Wow Daddy. Your hair is so smooth! Mummy always says she’s jealous,” Jiwoo said, giggling.

“She does, doesn’t she?” Jeonghan smirked.

From the doorway, you leaned against the frame with your arms crossed, watching the scene unfold with an amused smile. “Don’t get too proud Yoon Jeonghan. I let you have the better hair,” you teased.

“Of course dear” your husband chuckled.

Jiwoo, who was completely focused on her work, began brushing his hair with exaggerated care. “You have to be very still Daddy! I don’t want to mess up.”

Jeonghan straightened up his posture. “Not moving an inch,” he promised.

She nodded in approval and got to work. She hummed softly as she created a long, wobbly braid, occasionally stopping to add a colourful clip here and there.

You on the other hand covered your mouth to stifle a laugh as your daughter sprinkled in pink and purple ribbons, tying them into small bows at random spots.

After several minutes, Jiwoo finally clapped her hands. “All done!” She reached for a small mirror from her vanity and handed it to her father. “Look Daddy!”

Jeonghan held up the mirror and burst out laughing. His hair was an absolute masterpiece of uneven braids, mismatched ribbons, and bright butterfly clips.

“Well?” Jiwoo asked eagerly.

“I love it! Thank you sweetheart” Jeonghan smiled warmly.

JOSHUA

Joshua had been through his fair share of tantrums. Having a toddler meant that outbursts were a normal part of life. But today’s meltdown? This was on a whole new level.

He held Byul in his arms as she screamed, her little face red and wet with tears. The two-year-old kicked and squirmed as she tried to escape his grip. Her loud wails were practically echoing through the entire grocery store. It was the kind of tantrum that made people stop and stare. The kind that turned heads and made strangers mutter under their breath.

You on the other hand walked a few steps ahead, pushing the shopping trolley. Your face was carefully neutral, but Joshua could tell that the stares you were getting were bothering you. You exhaled softly and glanced at him. “She’s really going for it today,” you murmured.

“Oh, you think?” Joshua muttered, adjusting his grip as Byul twisted again, nearly knocking his baseball cap off. “She wanted the chocolate chip cookies, I said no, and now we’re here.”

You sighed while grabbing a box of cereal from the shelf. “People are staring.”

Joshua didn’t need to look around to know that was true. He could feel the eyes on him — annoyed glances from shoppers who just wanted to get through their day without a screaming child in the background. An older woman shook her head disapprovingly as she passed by, and a man near the dairy section shot Joshua a look that practically said, ‘Control your kid’.

Joshua tightened his hold on Byul as he bounced her slightly. “Bubba, please,” he whispered, brushing damp curls away from her flushed face. “I know you’re upset, but we can’t get cookies right now. We’ll have a snack when we get home, okay?”

But Byul wasn’t having it. She threw her head back and let out another ear-piercing wail. Joshua felt the frustration slowly creeping in. He was usually good at keeping his cool, but this was exhausting. He looked at you helplessly. “Any ideas?” he asked.

You pursed your lips, then reached into the trolley. You pulled out a bag of baby carrots and waved it in front of your daughter’s face. “Byul, look. Want some carrots?”

Byul, still sniffling, peeked at the bag and immediately shoved it away with a furious, “NO!”

You shrugged. “Worth a shot.”

Joshua sighed. He was sweaty, tired, and feeling the pressure of every judgmental stare that was coming his way. But then, an idea struck him. He didn’t know if it would work, but it was worth trying.

He turned Byul around in his arms so they were face to face. “Bubba,” he said in a softer, playful tone, “can you take a deep breath with Daddy?”

Byul, still hiccupping from crying, shook her head stubbornly.

Joshua exaggerated a deep breath, making it loud and dramatic. “Biiiiig breath in—” he puffed out his cheeks, “—and whoooooosh, out!” he blew air gently on her face.

Byul blinked. She was still upset, but something about his silly breathing caught her attention. And so he did it again. “Whoooosh!”

Byul let out a tiny giggle between sniffles. “One more?” Joshua grinned. She hesitated, then copied him, taking a tiny, shuddering breath in and blowing out.

The screaming stopped, and both of you were relieved. “You’re a wizard” you smiled, shaking your head.

Joshua chuckled, “nah. Just a dad.”

JUNHUI

Junhui adjusted the straps of his backpack while holding his three-year-old’s hand. Mei clutched her stuffed bunny tightly as her eyes darted around the unfamiliar space. It was her first time on an airplane. More importantly, it was her first trip to China to meet Junhui’s side of the family for the Spring Festival.

“Are you excited to see Grandma and Grandpa?” Junhui asked as he crouched to her level.

Mei nodded hesitantly, and then looked up at you who smiled reassuringly. “It’ll be fun, sweetheart. And we get to fly in a big airplane!”

Mei didn’t look so sure about that part.

After checking in and going through security, you finally boarded the plane. Mei sat in the middle, with you by the window and Junhui by the aisle seat.

She fidgeted in her seat with her small legs dangling above the floor. Her nervous energy was apparent as she looked around to take in her unfamiliar surroundings.

Junhui then helped Mei put in her small earplugs, hoping they would soften the unfamiliar sounds. “These will make it nice and quiet,” he promised as he tucked a blanket around her lap.

When the flight attendants finished their safety announcements, the plane rumbled to life.

Despite the earplugs, the deep growl of the engines startled her. She flinched, eyes widening as she looked around in panic. Junhui reached for her hand. “It’s okay darling. That’s just the plane getting ready.”

But Mei didn’t look convinced.

The aircraft began rolling toward the runway, and the motion made her grip her bunny even tighter. Then the speed picked up — faster, faster — until suddenly, the nose lifted, and you were taking off.

The three-year-old felt her heart drop at the unfamiliar motion, and soon panic set in. She let out a whimper as her face scrunched up. Tears welled up in her eyes, and then — she bursted into sobs.

Junhui’s heart clenched. He hated seeing her scared. Ignoring the glances from other passengers, he unbuckled his seatbelt just enough to lean closer.

“Mei, it’s okay,” he said gently while rubbing her back. “Daddy’s right here.”

“I don’t like it!” she wailed as her little hands gripped your shirt tightly. “I want to go home!”

You pressed a kiss to her head. “Shh, baby, we’re safe. The plane is just going up in the sky, like a bird.”

Mei sniffled but still whimpered. Her tiny body trembled as she cried while gripping her bunny like a lifeline.

Junhui hated seeing her in distress. So he thought for a moment, then reached into his backpack and pulled out a small red envelope. “Hey, Mei, look what I have.”

Her sobs slowed just enough for her to look at it.

“This is a hóngbāo from Grandpa,” he said, opening it just enough to show the shiny coin inside. “He sent it early for you. And guess what? He can’t wait to give you more when we get there.”

Mei sniffled, eyes still watery but now distracted.

You wiped your daughter’s tears gently. “And when we land, we’ll see Grandma and Grandpa, and there will be lanterns, fireworks, and lots of yummy dumplings.”

Mei hesitated, then clutched the red envelope along with her bunny. “Dumplings?”

“Lots of them” Junhui grinned.

The plane soon steadied in the air, and the worst of the takeoff behind was now over. Mei’s sobs faded into sniffles as she leaned sleepily against her father’s arm.

Maybe this trip wouldn’t be so scary after all.

SOONYOUNG

The music stopped. The cheers faded. And the winner was announced.

But it wasn’t him.

Soonyoung sat backstage, slumped against the wall with his arms resting on his knees and his head hanging low. Sweat dripped from his tired face, while his tank top was soaked through from the hours of dancing under the bright stage lights.

His chest ached, but not from exhaustion. This pain ran deeper. Months of practice, of pushing his body to the limit, of dreaming of victory…all for nothing.

He clenched his fists, his breathing shaky. He told himself it wouldn’t matter if he lost, and that the experience alone was enough. But now, sitting here alone in the dim backstage area while the winner celebrated, he felt like a failure.

A choked sob escaped his lips. He buried his face in his hands, and his body trembled as tears silently rolled down his cheeks.

“Daddy?”

Soonyoung felt his breath hitch. He looked up with his tear-blurred vision.

There he saw his five-year-old daughter, Arin, standing a few steps away with her small hands clutching the hem of her pink dress. Her big brown eyes were filled with worry. Behind her stood you with a sad smile as you let your daughter go ahead.

Arin took a cautious step forward. “Daddy…are you sad?” she asked.

Soonyoung swallowed the lump in his throat as he tried to find his voice. “Yes baby,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “Daddy lost.”

Arin frowned, then quietly sat in front of him, folding her legs. She reached out her tiny hands and placed them gently over his own. “It’s okay Daddy.”

Soonyoung let out a shaky breath as fresh tears spilled over. He tried to hold it together, but with his little girl sitting there, looking at him with so much love and concern, the dam broke. He sobbed openly and pulled her into his arms.

Arin wrapped her small arms around his neck, patting his back the way he always did when she cried. “Don’t be sad Daddy,” she said softly. “You’re still the best dancer in the world.”

Soonyoung’s shoulders shook as he held her tighter. “Oh, baby…”

Arin pulled back slightly and cupped his tear-streaked cheeks in her tiny hands. “You dance so cool Daddy. Even cooler than the people on TV!”

You knelt beside them and rubbed your husband’s back. “She’s right, you know,” you murmured. “You worked so hard, and no trophy can change that.”

Soonyoung let out a weak chuckle through his tears, and looked into his daughter’s hopeful eyes. He wiped his face and kissed her forehead. “Thank you, my baby.”

“Can we dance when we get home?” Arin grinned.

Soonyoung exhaled, and a genuine smile finally broke through his sadness. He nodded. “Yeah. We can dance as much as you want.”

And at that moment, the loss didn’t feel so heavy anymore. Because to his little girl, he would always be a champion.

WONWOO

Wonwoo loved the beach in theory. The soft sand beneath his feet, the salty breeze that tousled his hair, the crashing of the waves — it was beautiful, and peaceful. But the ocean itself? That was different. Ever since he was a child, he had feared the water. A near-drowning incident during his childhood left a scar in his mind, one that never fully faded.

Still, he wouldn’t let his past keep him from making memories with his family. You were laying out your small picnic on a checkered blanket while humming a tune as you arranged the sandwiches and fruit.

Your five-year-old daughter, Yoonji, was giggling as she played near the shore with her bright pink floaty bobbing in the gentle waves. Wonwoo was distracted by your laughter and the task at hand that he unintentionally forgot to keep a close eye on Yoonji.

When the food was ready, he stood and dusted the sand off his hands. “Yoonie! Come eat!” he called, but there was no response. His heart began to race as he turned around, scanning the shoreline.

Then he heard the screaming.

His head snapped toward the water, and his heart nearly stopped. A small figure thrashed in the waves, the familiar floaty drifting farther away from her.

Yoonji.

A terrified scream tore from your throat as you ran towards the sea, but Wonwoo was faster. His body moved before his mind could catch up. Fear gripped at him as he approached the sea. He felt his past fear creeping in, but nothing mattered more than his daughter.

“I’m coming baby!” he frantically exclaimed as he charged into the waves.

The shock of the cold water sent his heart racing as he dove into the sea. For a brief second, the old memories surged back. But then he saw Yoonji’s tiny arms struggling against the waves with her mouth opening and closing as she tried to stay afloat.

His fear vanished. All that remained was the desperate need to reach for his child.

His strokes were fast and uneven, but determined regardless. The salty water splashed into his face and burned his eyes, but he pushed forward. He had to.

Finally, his fingers brushed against Yoonji’s trembling form. He pulled her into his arms and cradled her against his bare chest.

“I got you, baby. Daddy got you” his voice broke, but his grip was firm.

Yoonji held onto her father as she sobbed against his shoulder. He could feel her tiny body shaking. With every ounce of strength he had left, he swam back. His muscles burned, but he refused to stop.

At last, his feet found the sand. He stumbled but held tight to his daughter. “You’re okay, baby. Daddy is here” his breath was ragged as he carried her onto the shore.

You rushed towards them with tears streaming down your face. You wrapped Yoonji in your arms and pressed frantic kisses to her wet hair.

Wonwoo collapsed onto his knees beside you from exhaustion. But guilt soon overwhelmed him.

He took his eyes off her. He let this happen.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered with a hoarse voice.

“You saved her” you reassured him.

Yoonji sniffled as her small hands clutched his arm. “I was scared.” Wonwoo swallowed hard and pulled her close. “Me too baby.”

As he sat there, holding his daughter in his arms, he realised something. He feared the ocean all his life, but nothing had ever terrified him more than the thought of losing his daughter.

JIHOON

Jihoon sat hunched over his keyboard with headphones covering his ears. He was working on a track for another but k-pop group amongst his long list of requests. He adjusted the bassline and nodded slightly as he felt the groove settle in. He was close, but not quite there yet.

A sudden knock on the door pulled Jihoon from his focus. He barely had time to react before the door opened, revealing two of his favorite people in the world.

“Daddy!”

A high-pitched squeal filled the room as his six-year-old daughter, Nari, dashed towards him with her small feet pattering against the floor. Jihoon turned in his chair and pulled off his glasses as a wide smile stretched across his tired face.

“Come here my princess,” he said, spreading his arms wide.

He chuckled as Nari wasted no time leaping onto his lap and wrapping her tiny arms around his neck. He felt the warmth of her hug melt away the heavy exhaustion of the day.

“I missed you Daddy,” she mumbled against his shoulder.

Jihoon pouted in guilt. He had been working late for weeks now, buried in projects and fine-tuning beats until the early hours of the morning. He kissed the top of her head and inhaled the familiar scent of strawberries from her shampoo.

“I’m sorry princess. Daddy’s been really busy.”

You walked in with a soft smile before leaning down and pressing a kiss on your husband’s lips. “You should take a break love,” you whispered.

Jihoon exhaled. He knew you were right. But before he could argue, Nari gasped and wiggled out of his grasp. “Daddy! Can I play the piano?” she asked with her eyes twinkling with excitement.

Jihoon chuckled. “Of course princess. Show me what you got.”

Nari scrambled off his lap and ran to the sleek black piano sitting in the corner of the studio. You and Jihoon followed, taking a seat beside your daughter as she placed her small fingers on the keys.

With absolute focus, Nari pressed the keys one by one as she attempted to play a tune she heard him compose before. The notes weren’t perfect — some were offbeat, others hesitant — but she was determined. Jihoon exchanged a knowing glance with you before both bursted into soft giggles at your daughter’s intense concentration.

“You almost got it baby,” Jihoon encouraged and guided her tiny fingers to the right keys.

She pouted slightly, frustrated with herself, but tried again. And again. Jihoon’s heart swelled with pride. He loved that she shared his passion for music, even if right now, it was just for fun.

After a while, Nari suddenly turned to him with her best pleading expression. “Daddy, can we go home now? Let’s have s’mores and watch a movie together! Please?”

Jihoon hesitated and glanced back at his computer screen. He had so much work left to do. The deadline aside, Jihoon was a perfectionist. It was why he spent so much extra time in the studio to make sure the tracks he produced were top quality.

But then he looked at his daughter’s hopeful eyes as her small hands tugged at his sleeve.

Work could wait.

Jihoon sighed, then grinned as he scooped Nari into his arms. “Alright, alright. You win princess.”

Nari cheered in victory, and you laughed shaking your head.

As you all left the studio together, Jihoon knew he had made the right choice. Music was his passion, but his family was his heart. And in the end, no melody in the world could ever compare to the sound of his daughter’s laughter.

SEOKMIN

The park was quiet, save for the gentle rustling of leaves in the evening breeze. You and Seokmin walked along the park path with your fingers intertwined as you rested your head on his shoulder. It was one of those rare, peaceful moments he wished could last forever.

Ahead of you was your four-year-old daughter, Hana, skipping happily with an oversized ice cream cone in her small hands. She was talking a mile a minute about her day at kindergarten, barely pausing for breath between licks.

“And then, Miss Kim said my drawing was really pretty, and I got a gold star!” Hana announced proudly.

“That’s amazing sweetie. What did you draw?” you smiled.

“A rainbow! With a unicorn! And sparkles!” your daughter exclaimed, turning slightly to flash you both a wide, toothy grin.

“Sounds like a masterpiece” Seokmin laughed.

Hana nodded eagerly and took another bite of her ice cream. Everything felt perfect. The quietness in the park, the warmth of your body against his, your daughter’s innocent laughter — it was a moment he’d tuck away in his heart forever.

But then, in an instant, that peace was ruined.

A man, walking briskly and not paying attention, carelessly bumped into Hana. The impact sent her tiny body stumbling backward. She landed hard on the pavement while her ice cream slipped from her grasp and splattering across the ground.

There was silence for a second before a wail cut through the air.

Seokmin’s stomach dropped as he sprinted forward and dropped to his knees beside Hana. She was holding onto her arm with tears streaming down her flushed cheeks.

“Hey, Daddy got you, hmm? Are you okay? Let’s check your arm” his voice was gentle, but his hands trembled as he checked her over.

“My arm hurts,” she whimpered as her little body shook. “And my ice cream is gone…”

You knelt beside them and quickly examined Hana’s arm. “I don’t think it’s broken, just a little bruised,” you reassured as you brushed her hair from her face. “You’re so brave sweetheart.”

Seokmin’s jaw clenched as he turned to the man who had knocked into her. The guy — dressed in a dark hoodie and jeans — barely stopped. He looked back briefly but made no move to apologise or help.

And something in Seokmin snapped.He stood up abruptly with his body rigid with anger. “Hey!” he barked with a sharp voice.

The man hesitated, but then scoffed. “Wasn’t my fault, the kid wasn’t watching where she was going.”

Seokmin took a step forward, his fists clenching. “You knocked over my daughter, and that’s all you have to say?”

You, who was still crouched by Hana, snapped your head up. “Seokmin…” you called out to him.

But Seokmin was already stepping closer. He had never been the type to pick fights, but seeing Hana cry and the indifference on this guy’s face — he couldn’t just let it slide.

“You need to apologise,” he growled as his fists itched to do more than just demand words.

The man scoffed again. “Whatever,” he muttered before turning to walk away.

Seokmin took another step forward, but suddenly, a small voice stopped him.

“Daddy?”

He turned back and his eyes met Hana’s teary ones. She wasn’t scared of the man — she was scared of him. He shut his eyes and exhaled a deep breath before fluttering them open again.

He walked back over to her and crouched down to her level. He cupped her cheeks and wiped away her tears. “It’s okay baby, you’re okay.”

Hana sniffled again and looked at her fallen ice cream. “But…my treat…”

“Then let’s go get you another one. How about two scoops this time?” you said.

Her eyes widened. “Really?”

You hummed and then turned to your husband, touching his arm gently. “Come on love. She needs you more than he deserves your anger.”

Seokmin took a deep breath, forcing himself to let it go. With one last glare at the man’s retreating figure, he lifted Hana into his arms.

Hana immediately wrapped her arms around her father’s neck and snuggled into him. As you walked back toward the ice cream stand, Seokmin kissed the top of his daughter’s head, holding her close. Some fights weren’t worth it — but protecting his family always would be.

MINGYU

Mingyu stepped out of the shower feeling his body aching from an exhausting day at work. The warm water had helped ease some of the tension in his muscles, but the fatigue was still there weighing heavily upon him. He ran a towel through his damp hair and sighed as he prepared himself for what he hoped would be a quiet evening.

Then he heard it — a sharp, piercing wail resonating through the house. Aera’s cry — tiny yet somehow powerful enough to make his heart stop.

Mingyu didn’t think twice. He dropped the towel and hurried toward the nursery. The moment he stepped inside, he saw you sitting in the nursing chair cradling your newborn daughter against your chest. You looked exhausted, and your eyes were glassy with unshed tears.

“I don’t know what’s wrong,” you said over the frantic cries. “She won’t latch…she won’t stop crying…”

Mingyu’s heart ached at the sight of your struggling. He knew how much you wanted to breastfeed, and how much pressure you put on yourself to make it work. But your daughter, barely two weeks old, was inconsolable as her tiny fists flailed, refusing to settle.

Without hesitation, he moved towards. “Let me take her.”

You hesitated, but your shoulders slumped in relief as you gently passed Aera to him. The moment she was in his arms, Mingyu was struck again by just how tiny she was. At six feet-two inches tall, his arms broad and strong, she fit against him like a fragile doll, so impossibly small and delicate.

“Shh, baby girl,” he whispered to her as he held her close. “Daddy’s got you.” his voice was softer than it had ever been.

Her cries didn’t stop immediately. They were still loud, her tiny face scrunched in distress, but Mingyu remained calm. He placed her upright against his bare chest, one large hand supporting her fragile back while the other cradled the back of her head. He began to rock her gently as he paced across the nursery.

The frantic hysteria in her voice soon quieted just a little, turning into tiny whimpers as her small body slowly relaxed against him. Mingyu pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head, inhaling the faint scent of baby lotion.

You watched from the chair as tears rolled down your cheeks — not just from exhaustion, but from relief.

“I don’t know what I’m doing wrong,” you whispered.

Mingyu turned to you while still rocking Aera. “You’re not doing anything wrong love.”

Your lip quivered. “She wouldn’t stop crying…she wouldn’t eat…”

Mingyu walked back over and crouched down so you could see your daughter’s peaceful face as she nuzzled into his chest. “She just needed a minute to feel safe. And she will eat, when she’s ready.”

You exhaled shakily and nodded as you wiped away your tears. Mingyu leaned in and pressed a soft kiss against your lips. “You’re doing an amazing job,” he assured you. “She’s lucky to have you.”

Aera let out a tiny sigh as her tiny fingers curled against his chest as she finally settled into sleep. Mingyu felt his heart swell. He was overwhelmed by love for the little family you and he had created.

Exhaustion didn’t even matter at that point. Work didn’t matter. All that mattered was this — holding his daughter close, keeping her safe, and making sure you knew you weren’t alone.

He would always be here. For both of you.

MINGHAO

Minghao adjusted his glasses as they slipped down the bridge of his nose. It was a movement so familiar that it became muscle memory. He barely noticed anymore — just a simple push, a brief pause, and then back to the task at hand.

Stacks of student papers sat before him, each marked with his red pen in his neat handwriting. It was late, far later than he intended to stay up. But even as a college professor, he had deadlines. The responsibility was big.

Then, a sound broke the quiet atmosphere. He heard soft cries growing louder as they approached the living room.

Minghao set his pen down and turned just as you entered. Your face was lined with exhaustion, your eyes glassy with worry. In your arms, your one-year-old daughter, Daiyu, whimpered pitifully as her tiny face scrunched in distress.

“I think she has a fever,” you murmured as you shifted Daiyu in your arms.

Minghao’s heart clenched at the sight of his little girl’s flushed cheeks and tear-streaked face. Without hesitation, he stood up and reached for her. And with gentle but firm hands, he took her from your arms.

Daiyu squirmed. He felt her warm body radiating heat against his chest. She was clearly burning up. He rocked her gently and pressed a kiss to her damp forehead.

“Shh, bǎo bèi,” he whispered. “Daddy’s here.”

You hovered close while rubbing your arms as though you were cold. But your worry was visible. “What should we do?”

“Let’s check her temperature first.”

Carrying Daiyu, he walked towards the medicine cabinet and grabbed the thermometer with one hand while balancing her with the other. He placed it under her arm and murmured soft reassurances as she fussed. A few seconds later, the reading confirmed what he was already worried about.

“She’s definitely running a fever,” he said as he kept his voice steady, though his heart ached at the sight of her discomfort.

You bit your lip as your hands twisted together. “Should we call the doctor?” you asked.

“Not yet,” Minghao said gently. “Let’s give her some medicine first and see if it helps.”

He carefully measured out the correct dose of infant fever reducer and gently encouraged Daiyu to swallow it while whispering soothing words. Despite her little whimper, she leaned against his chest and gripped his shirt with her small fingers.

He resumed pacing around the house while rocking her in his arms. His professor’s mind was now entirely focused on his daughter. The academic world, the papers waiting for his attention — none of it mattered right now.

You sat on the sofa watching them with a soft expression. The tension in your shoulders eased slightly as you saw how gently Minghao held your daughter.

For nearly an hour, he walked, whispering lullabies, stroking her back, feeling her tiny breaths against his neck. Slowly, the fever medicine began to work, and Daiyu’d cries quieted. Her body relaxed against him as her breathing evened out.

Finally, when he was sure she was fully asleep, he carefully laid her in her cot. He stood there for a moment and watched her to make sure she was truly resting.

You stepped beside him and leaned into his side. “Thank you,” you murmured.

Minghao sighed, rubbing a hand over his tired face. “She’s our baby. I’d do anything for her.”

As he looked down at your sleeping daughter, peaceful at last, he knew he’d stay up all night if he had to — because some things were far more important than grading papers.

SEUNGKWAN

Seungkwan let out a satisfied sigh as he sank into the sofa after putting the laundry in the dryer. He knew you would appreciate coming home to clean clothes instead of another argument about his procrastination. You worked long hours, and the last thing he wanted was to hear you yelling about unfinished chores.

Just as he was about to close his eyes for a well-earned break, a small voice interrupted him.

“Daddy?”

Seungkwan opened one eye to see his five-year-old daughter, Yuna, standing beside him with an eager grin. “Yes darling?”

“Can I put makeup on you?” she asked.

Seungkwan frowned. “Makeup? But Yuna, you don’t have any makeup.”

“I’ll use Mummy’s!” she giggled mischievously.

Seungkwan sat up straighter. “Uh…I don’t think Mummy would like that,” he said carefully. “She doesn’t like anyone touching her stuff.”

“Please Daddy?” Yuna pleaded with her big eyes shimmering with hope. She clasped her little hands together and tilted her head like a puppy begging for a treat.

Seungkwan hesitated. The idea of having his face covered in lipstick and eyeshadow wasn’t exactly appealing. But how could he say no to that face?

“Alright,” he finally relented with a sigh. “But! Mummy can’t know, okay? It’s our little secret.”

Yuna squealed in delight and grabbed his hand before dragging him upstairs to the bedroom. She climbed onto the bed and rummaged through your emergency makeup bag with the enthusiasm of a treasure hunter. Seungkwan at patiently, already regretting this decision.

The next fifteen minutes were filled with giggles and concentration as she dabbed powder onto his cheeks, swiped red lipstick across his lips (some of it ending up on his chin), and painted his eyelids with an uneven mix of shimmering pink and purple.

Seungkwan caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and nearly laughed out loud. He looked ridiculous. But when he saw Yuna’s face beaming with joy, he didn’t care.

“You look so pretty Daddy!” she said proudly.

Before Seungkwan could respond, the sound of the front door opening made his stomach drop. You were home.

“Quick! Clean up!” his eyes widened.

But it was too late. The footsteps got closer, followed by your voice. “Yuna? Kwanie?”

The bedroom door swung open, and there you stood.

Your gaze swept over the scene before you — the makeup scattered across the bed, your daughter holding a mascara wand like a paintbrush, and your husband sitting there with his face covered in a colorful mess.

Your eyes widened in shock, “my makeup!” you shrieked.

Yuna flinched at your tone, but Seungkwan quickly spoke up. “Honey, I—”

“You let her use my expensive makeup for this?!” you interrupted.

But then, as you stared at them, something shifted. You saw the way Yuna giggled with her little hands covered in powder. You saw Seungkwan looking utterly ridiculous but grinning as your daughter beamed with happiness.

And just like that, your frustration melted away.

Seungkwan gave you a sheepish smile. “I’ll buy you new ones, I promise” he told you.

He then glanced at Yuna, who was now giggling uncontrollably. “But…look how happy she is.”

You let out a deep breath. Then, against your better judgment, you laughed. “You’re lucky she’s cute,” you muttered, shaking your head.

“So, do you want Yuna to do your makeup next?” your husband grinned.

“Yes! Mummy, can I do your makeup next?” Yuna jumped up.

“Not a chance” you deadpanned.

HANSOL

Hansol sat at his tiny desk typing away on his laptop with one hand while the other cradled his six-month-old daughter Nabi against his chest. She was so warm and peaceful in his arms. Her tiny fingers curled into the fabric of his grey hoodie as he gently rocked her with his knee.

He was exhausted, but exhaustion had become second nature by now. Between his final year of university and fatherhood, sleep was a luxury. His dissertation deadline was in two weeks, and with every keystroke, he fought against time. He was determined to finish strong, if not for himself, then for you and his daughter.

Nabi wasn’t exactly planned to begin with. When you found out that you were pregnant, it hit him hard. Both of you were scared. Hansol remembered sitting on your dorm room bed with his hands gripping his hair while you cried softly beside him. Neither of you had an idea how you were going to manage university and a baby. It felt impossible.

But that was until Nabi was born.

Hansol wasn’t the type to cry easily, but when the nurse placed her in his arms for the first time, he broke completely. She weighed like a feather, so small and fragile, and yet the weight of her in his arms felt heavy.

Every doubt, every fear, melted away in that moment. He made a silent vow to her that he would do anything to protect her and give her the life she deserved.

It wasn’t easy. Balancing classes, assignments, and sleepless nights with a newborn pushed you both to your limits. But he and you faced every challenge together. You leaned on each other when things got overwhelming.

And tonight was no different.

Hansol adjusted Nabi slightly to make sure she was comfortable, and kept typing. His dissertation deadline was fast approaching, and he still had a long way to go. He tried to focus, but the warmth of Nabi against him and the rhythmic sound of her breathing made it hard not to get distracted.

And then, without warning, Nabi stirred. She let out a tiny gurgle before she vomited all over him.

Hansol body froze.

The warmth of the spit-up seeped through his hoodie and onto his chest. His eyes widened in horror as he realised some of it had also landed on his dissertation papers.

“Oh, come on,” he groaned as he pushed his chair back abruptly. He carefully lifted Nabi away from the mess, wrinkling his nose.

“Babe! I need backup!”

A moment later, you appeared in the doorway with your own tired eyes widening as you took in the scene. Hansol, covered in baby vomit, Nabi blinking innocently in his arms, and his once-pristine papers now splattered with milk.

You clamped a hand over your mouth, but a snort of laughter escaped. “You look like you just lost a fight,” you teased.

“Yeah, and she didn’t even have to try,” your boyfriend muttered, trying to wipe himself down while keeping Nabi steady.

“Can you grab me a towel? And maybe some clean paper while you’re at it?”

Still giggling, you disappeared into the bathroom and returned with a damp cloth. You wiped Nabi’s mouth first before handing Hansol another towel.

“You’re taking this surprisingly well,” you mused.

Hansol looked down at Nabi, who was now grinning up at him, completely unaware of the chaos she had caused. He couldn’t help but smile back, shaking his head.

“She’s worth it,” he said simply.

“Aren’t you princess?” he looked down at his daughter with a smile before leaning down to kiss her forehead. Nabi giggled as she reached her arms up to grab his face.

You leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to your boyfriend’s cheek. “Yeah,” you murmured, “she really is.”

Life wasn’t perfect. It was messy, exhausting, and full of unexpected surprises. But as Hansol looked at his daughter and the love of his life, he knew one thing for sure — he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

CHAN

Chan stepped out of his car and stretched his arms as he took a deep breath of the cool night air. It had been a while since he went out with the boys, and though he enjoyed the break, he was eager to be home. The comfort of his wife and daughter was where he truly belonged.

But the moment he stepped inside, he knew something was wrong.

The house was in chaos. There were pillows thrown from the sofa, toys scattered everywhere, and a sippy cup knocked over, juice pooling on the coffee table. Then he heard his four-year-old daughter, Dahyun, crying and screaming loudly.

Chan’s stomach tightened as he hurried towards the living room.

When he walked in seeing you holding Dahyun by her arms and guiding her down onto her bottom with an exhausted but sharp glare.

“Sit on your bottom, now,” you ordered, your voice raised and filled with frustration. “You do NOT throw toys across the room like that when you’re told no. That made Mummy very sad!”

Dahyun froze, startled by your angry tone. Her big, tear-filled eyes locked onto your face as her little chest rose and fell in quick breaths. The room was silent just for a second, and Chan saw the confusion in his daughter’s expression. Then, she bursted into loud, uncontrollable sobs with fat tears rolling down her flushed cheeks.

Chen’s frown deepened. His heart squeezed painfully watching her wail with her tiny hands gripping her pyjama shirt as she hiccupped between cries.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

You let out a long, tired sigh as you rubbed your temple. Dark circles under your eyes showed just how drained you were. “She threw her toy at me when I told her she couldn’t have another custard tart,” you explained softly but still frustrated.

“It nearly hit me Chan. I can’t let her think that’s okay. She needs to learn.”

Chan nodded understandingly. You were home with Dahyun all day managing her tantrums, her tireless energy, and her stubbornness. He knew how exhausting it was. He also knew that you weren’t usually this harsh. You were just at your limit.

Still, the way Dahyun was crying, the way her little body shook on the floor, made his chest ache unbearably.

“Don’t comfort her yet,” you added quickly, sensing his thoughts. “She needs to understand that what she did was wrong.”

Chan hesitated as his gaze shifted between you and your daughter. You weren’t wrong — Dahyun needed to learn boundaries. But the way she was sobbing and struggling to breathe between her cries made it impossible for him to stand by and do nothing.

He couldn’t.

Ignoring your warning, he stepped forward and knelt down before scooping Dahyun into his arms. She held onto him immediately with her little fingers grasping the fabric of his shirt as she buried her wet face into his neck.

“Shh, my baby, calm down” Chan whispered as he rocked her gently.

Dahyun’s cries softened into hiccups as he rubbed her back in slow circles. He pressed gentle kisses to her tear-streaked cheeks while murmuring soothing words as he held her close.

You sighed as you leaned back against the sofa, exhausted. “Chan..”

“I know,” he said before you could finish. He knew discipline was important. He knew Dahyun had to learn that throwing things in anger wasn’t okay. But he also knew she was only four and was still learning how to handle her big emotions. Right now, what she needed more than anything was comfort.

You exhaled as your anger faded into quiet understanding. “It’s just been a long day,” you admitted.

Chan nodded while he adjusted Dahyun as her sniffles finally calmed. “We’ll teach her together,” he promised. “But I can’t just watch her cry like that. I just can’t.”

“I know” you offered a smal, tired smile.

As Dahyun’s small body relaxed against his chest, Chan knew that parenting wasn’t about being perfect. It was about balance. Discipline and love, lessons and comfort. And at the end of the day, no matter how difficult things got, love would always come first.

a/n; comment your favourite!

[stellamarielu]

blurred lines II

joel miller x female reader

read part one here

summary: after the little stunt you pulled last night, joel can't bring himself to be in the same room as you. he's canceling his weekly plans to join your dad for sunday night football, and you're fed up with the awkward tension which leads you marching right over to his place determined to fix the problem.

content: nswf, 18+, dbf!joel, age gap, a sprinkle of angst, pet names [duh its joel], lots of praise, fingering, penetration, riding that man like a mechanical bull, unprotected sex, joel finishing in reader without explicit permission, basically just smut with very little plot let's go!

author's note: i need joel miller circa 2003 like i need air in my lungs, so of course i had to write a part 2 for this one

“What're you doin' here?”

Joel hadn’t expected to see you standing directly in front of him holding a Tupperware bowl when he opened his front door.

“Brought you some Chili.” You were stating nonchalantly as if he should’ve been expecting your company.

He had flaked on your dad tonight. Of course he had. 

After what happened last night, you didn’t expect him to show his face at your house like he normally did every Sunday, but it didn’t stop his excuse of feeling “under the weather” from pissing you off.

You made things complicated when you decided to call him last night. Why couldn’t you have kept it together and just called an uber instead?

You spent the entire day feeling guilty and embarrassed and even though you tried to blame your inappropriate advances on the alcohol you’d consumed, you knew it wasn’t the real reason you crossed a line in the backseat of his truck.

After he got out of coming over for the game, you watched the empty seat on your couch that he usually occupied and let the guilt eat you alive. Him and your dad should have been drinking beers and yelling at TV together, but instead your dad just sat in silence.

You couldn’t handle it— you needed to talk to Joel. You weren’t sure what you would even say to him, but before you knew it, you were packaging up leftovers and telling your dad you were taking dinner to Joel and Sarah during halftime.

“Is Sarah home?”

You were asking and looking over Joel’s shoulder, the leftovers still warm in your hands.

“No-“ 

He’d hardly responded when you pushed past him and into the familiar territory of his living room, cutting straight to the chase.

“Why didn’t you come over tonight?” 

“I think we both know the answer to that.” His voice was laced with annoyance at your question.

He was standing a few feet away, still by the front door. Watching as you angrily stormed into his house, setting the Tupperware down on the coffee table.

“Okay, but you didn’t have to lie to my dad.” 

You were coming in hot. You needed this to be over so you could stop feeling so embarrassed and remorseful about the whole thing. 

“Oh, your right, I should’ve just told him I almost fucked his daughter so it’d be kinda weird for me to come over.” Joel was scoffing as he leaned against a nearby wall, folding his arms over his chest. Your skin was burning at his words.

“Look I’m sorry for making things weird, but can we just move on? I don’t want to be the reason you don’t come around anymore. You’re like my dad’s only friend.”

“Then why’d you do it?” His voice was rough, almost like he was angry with you, but his eyes told a different story. They were gentle— carefully watching your expression as you wracked your brain for an answer. 

“Because…” You were trying to avoid his eyes but it was nearly impossible given the way he was staring so intently at you from across the room.

You started out so firm but now you were crumbling. His tender gaze picking away at you, wildling you down into a pile of nerves. 

“I don’t know Joel, let’s just drop it. I’ll keep to myself from now on and we can just pretend like nothing happened. Just please don’t let this effect your friendship with my dad.”

Joel chuckled at your words, an amused smile forming on his lips— Like this is something that could be easily forgotten. 

“Why’d you ask me to pick you up.” The smile disappeared from his face as quickly as it had formed. His demeanor was serious again as he revisited the objective of the conversation. The memory of you touching yourself in his car standing between you like an undeniable presence the room.

“What do you mean? I was out drinking and needed a ride.” You were trying to keep it together but there was a hint of hesitation in your words. 

“Yeah, but anyone could’ve given you a ride. Why’d you call me at 2am.” 

His eyes were locked on yours, heavy and sincere. 

“What do you want me to say Joel?"

here you go.

"Do you just want me to keep embarrassing myself? I didn’t want anyone else to pick me up. I wanted it to be you. I wanted an excuse to see you.” You were huffing out the words in a quiet voice, too mortified to speak above a whisper. 

“Thought that was pretty obvious when I had my hand between my legs in the backseat of your truck.” 

Your words were left ringing in the silent room as Joel just stared, his expression stuck in concentration. 

“Happy now?” You were deadpanning with a wave of your hands. Why wasn't he saying anything? You couldn’t read his expression and it was infuriating. 

“Very.” 

One word was all he said as he pushed himself off the wall, his arms still loosely crossed over his chest. He was taking small steps in your direction and your entire body froze. 

“I’ve been tryin’ to convince myself all day that you were just drunk last night. That the only reason you did such a filthy fuckin’ thing was because you were horny off one too many vodka sodas.”

His eyes didn’t leave yours as he spoke, his body now within reach. 

“I needed to tell myself it wasn’t because you like me.” His eyes were glued to you.

“Needed to convince myself that ya weren’t bein’ all sweet touchin' yourself like that because ya wanted me to fuck you.”

He was taking another step, the gap between you dwindling down with every word he spoke.

“Because if that was the case, if ya did do it on purpose...” He paused, letting his eyes rake down your body. Taking his time before he continued, his stare lingering on your lips.

“Do ya know how hard it was for me to keep my fuckin’ hands to myself?” He was so close, you could see his chest rising and falling with each shallow breath he took.

His stare was dense and all you could think about was how you’d never been this close to him before.

“Joel…” You meant to whisper his name as a warning but instead it came out as a pathetic whimper; only encouraging another inevitable step over the blurred line of your relationship. 

He was leaning in, and you weren’t stopping him.

“This is such a bad fuckin’ idea.” He avoided your lips and ducked his head into your neck, his whisper landing right below your ear and you could feel his breath on your skin. 

“I don’t care.” The words were a rushed hum as your fingers found the nape of his neck. You suddenly felt desperate to have his lips on you. 

“Please.”

That word had Joel spiraling. God, hearing you beg for him like that, he needed to hear it again. Wanted to hear it fall from your lips over and over again while he had you sitting on his cock.

“You said you think about me when you touch yourself.” Joel’s voice was a hum against your skin as his lips finally connected with your neck. He was placing a long drawn-out kiss right beneath your jaw before pulling away just enough for more words to make their way from his mouth.  

“Tell me what you think about.” His breathless whisper on your body made you dizzy, sending your fingertips clutching into this hair- desperate to find something to tether you back to earth. 

“I think about the way it’d feel- when you touch me.” Another pitiful whine. 

“Touch you where?” His words were barely audible as he continued placing gentle kisses down the side of your neck. 

“Joel…”

“C’mon sweetheart, you were so brave tellin’ me what ya wanted last night. Don’t get all shy on me now.” His voice was low and rough- intoxicating. 

“Think about your fingers in me. How they’re so much bigger than mine. How good they’d feel filling me up.” 

You were reaching for one of his hands as you spoke, holding it in front of you and tracing his palm before you pressed your hands together, his was so big and rough compared to yours. 

Then he was intertwining your fingers together and using the hold to pull you into him, your bodies flushed together. A groan left his mouth sending a sweet vibration into your skin.

“There she is.” He was murmuring into the crook of your neck, his hands finding your waist and gripping tight, pulling your hips closer. He absorbed your frame in his own, the muscle of his body solid and sturdy against yours. 

Joel felt like he was dreaming.

After he got home from dropping you off last night, he barely made it to his room before he was yanking down his jeans and wrapping his hand around his dick. The images of your fingers pushed deep inside of you were pulled from his memory, making him finish in record time. He thought about you all night. He couldn’t even sleep as visions of you filled his mind; you curling your fingers into his hair with his head between your legs, you on your knees for him, you with your head buried into his pillow and your perfect ass pushed back while he railed into you from behind. He thought about nearly every sexual scenario possible and now you were here, your soft body like putty in his hands.

“Let’s see then.” His voice was low as he kissed your neck one last time, pulling away just enough to look you in the eyes. 

“See if I can make ya come on my fingers yeah?” 

There was a soft smile on his lips conflicting with his sinful heavy-lidded stare. His hands were unruly as he explored your figure, dipping beneath the material of your shirt to feel the warmth of your skin on his fingertips.

“Wanted to see it last night, could barely hold myself back from pushin’ your pretty little hand out of my way so I could be the one makin’ ya feel good.”

One of his hands remained on the skin just above the waistband of your jeans while the other trailed up your body until it was on your face.

Joel’s hand was carefully caressing your cheek, rubbing his thumb back and forth over your skin. The act was reminiscent of the way he was rubbing your thigh not even 24 hours ago, and the recollection had you clenching your thighs together. You let your mind wonder back to the dirty things Joel said to you last night; the way he watched with a predatory glare as you fingered yourself in front of him. You were lost in the echo of it all until Joel caught you off guard, crashing his lips into yours. 

His kiss was heavy. The weight of unspoken feelings and undeniable tension fueling the way his lips molded into yours. Your shared desire was finally being dealt with and the relief was almost palpable in the liberation of his mouth on yours.

Your lips were tangled in a messy embrace as Joel ushered you backwards until you felt the back of your legs hit the couch.

His lips were following as you flopped down on the cushions, his body leaning forward between your legs. The kiss didn’t lose any momentum as his hands pulled at your jeans. You were arching off the couch assisting Joel as he slid the denim down your legs, breaking the kiss to watch you kick them off your body completely. 

He had been aching to see you like this again. Legs spread and chest heaving. Only this time he didn’t have to hold back. He could touch you; see what you looked like with his fingers knuckles deep in your sweet little cunt.

At that reminder Joel was reaching a hand down to feel you through your panties, his fingertips tracing the outline of your swollen lips, already wet beneath your underwear. 

“Fuck sweetheart you’re soaked.” 

The hot sticky evidence of your arousal was seeping through the cotton material, causing Joel to let out an animalistic groan. He hadn’t even touched you yet and he was losing all sense of control. 

He continued running his fingers over the ruined material, circling your clit over the clothing.

You were already writhing under his touch, which you normally would’ve considered pathetic, but not now. Not when you had been waiting for this exact moment. Now that it was really unfolding, you were proud of yourself for not taking his hand in your own and shoving his fingers where you really needed them.

He kept circling slowly and intricately, still leaning over you— his face inches from yours.

“That feel good?” His voice was a sweet murmur as you moaned in response. 

He was pleased by your answer, pushing your panties to the side and dipping a single finger into your entrance. His digit was gently pressing into you as he watched your face contort in pleasure.

Letting you bathe in satisfaction for only a second, he was retreating. Pulling his thick finger from your core before pushing it back between your wet folds, only this time adding a second along with it.

You were immediately reaching for his forearm, grabbing it instinctively, looking for something to hold onto while you went braindead with pleasure. You were biting down on your lip as he leisurely pumped his fingers in and out of you, scared of the obscene noises you would make if you didn’t.

“Let me hear ya baby.” Joel was smiling down at you with a devious grin. He could see the way you were suppressing your moans. He wanted to hear you; wanted to know how good he was making you feel, wanted to hear the pretty sounds you made when you came around his fingers.  

You let your mouth fall open. The whimper that fell out upon hearing his words prompted Joel to push his fingers further into you, curling when he felt the spongey warmth of your walls tightening. 

He could tell by the moan rolling off your tongue that he had found a favorable spot deep in your core. He kept his fingers bending in the perfect position as he peered down at you. 

The sight beneath him had his hips bucking into nothing. You with your head thrown back on his couch; eyes shut, brows furrowed and jaw slack. After last night he thought he’d never see something so glorious again, but now you were proving him wrong. You looked so beautiful like this— all fucked-out with his hand between your legs. 

The deliberate curl of his fingers with each plunge was sending you reeling as you let profanities bubble up in your throat. Just as you felt yourself teetering on the brink of release Joel added the pressure of his thumb on your clit.

“You gonna come already?” His words were sprinkled with amusement as he felt you clenching around his fingers. 

“Joel…” His name was a moan on your lips, and you were digging your fingers into his forearm, desperate to hold yourself steady as your body tensed.

“Fuck- you’re gonna come.” He was grunting as his fingers kept their pace. You were mewling out his name and nodding your head in desperation as you felt the coil inside you pulling tighter, ready to snap.

“Let me have it baby.” Joel was nearly begging you to let go. His tone as he growled out the words pushed you right over the edge, sending you into an abyss of pleasure. 

Your body was trembling as you whined out Joel’s name. He could feel your pussy squeezing his fingers as he continued to push them into you gently, relishing in the feeling of your warm embrace. 

“There ya go.” His grunts and groans were replaced with a calm voice as he worked you through your orgasm. 

“Good job sweetheart.”

His praises only added to the sensory overload running rampant through your body. 

“So beautiful baby.”

You were finally opening your eyes, looking up at him with a lust clouded gaze.

He couldn’t stop himself from kissing you again, only this time deeper. It was laced with passion and had you pulling him down onto the couch next to you.

Your mind and body were still buzzing from your climax, making it easier to gain dominance over him. You were pushing Joel back against the pillows and climbing onto his lap, straddling his waist. Your kiss had become sloppy and hungry as your lips worked in tandem to relieve the thick tension. 

“Off.” You were mumbling against his mouth and fumbling with the button of his jeans.

He got your message loud and clear as his own hands flew to the waistband of his pants. He was lifting his hips off the couch to free his body of the jeans but in doing so he was thrusting up into you, his erection grinding into your unclothed core. You were bringing your hands to his chest to stabilize yourself as he pushed his pants and underwear to the floor. 

You couldn’t stop your eyes from wandering down to his member now on full display. He was big. You knew he would be, but this, this was more than you'd imagined. 

In awe you brought a hand between you, encasing him gently with your touch and ever so slowly letting your fingers follow up and down his length.

You looked to his face to see his eyes fluttering closed in pure delight from finally feeling some sort of relief. The pressure that had been building inside him since he watched you finger fuck yourself last night was slowly dissipating with every pump of your hand around his cock.

You stroked him a few times, your touch soft and cautious; driving Joel insane. He was groaning with every flick of your wrist.

“Need to be inside ya.” A longing yet primal gaze took over his expression as he muttered the words; confessing his need to feel you, all of you.

They were the magic words, the ones that had you lifting your hips and guiding the head of his cock to your slicked entrance. You lingered there, with his tip filling you just enough, soaking in the final tension filled moments before you both completely gave in to your mutual desire.

Your eyes were locked on his, the two of you exchanging one last look of approval before you were sinking further onto him. 

You both let out hums of relief as you felt him stretching you inch by inch.

You were moving slowly, letting yourself adjust to his size as you relaxed onto him. His fingers were gripping onto your hips, holding you steady but careful not to guide you further. He wanted to let you set the pace. 

You sunk down until you were met the base of his cock rubbing against your clit. You were sat completely on him, taking a moment to savor the way he felt pushing deep inside of you. 

“That’s it baby.” He was whispering another praise as his hands traced up your body, taking your shirt with them and tossing it to the floor. Then his touch was on your face, holding your jaw in his fingertips and bringing your gaze down to meet his. 

“That okay? Feel good?” His questions were genuine, but they were spiked with such a immoral tone you might’ve thought he was mocking you. 

“So good.” Your voice was breathless as you affirmed him.

You decisively rocked your hips over his and an unconscious moan slipped from your lips at feeling him move inside you.

He brought his hands back to your hips as you started to move. Gripping onto your skin and guiding your body onto his as you began to bounce up and down on his cock.

“Oh honey- fuck.” He was moaning out as you picked up your pace, relentlessly taking him as deep as you could with every rebound. 

“That’s its baby.” His words were tumbling out of his mouth with every movement of your hips. You were riding him with such precision his mind was going numb, rendering him uncapable of piecing together coherent sentences.

Your palms were flat against his chest and your head thrown back in pleasure as he rubbed against you at just the right angle. You were using him to your full advantage as you shamelessly fucked yourself on his cock.

“Take what ya need baby.” He was encouraging your lewd movements, the sounds leaving his mouth were borderline pathetic as he tried to keep himself together long enough to feel you coming around him.  

He was letting his hands wander further, gripping the flesh of your ass with his palms and using the hold to pull you harder into him with each thrust. 

The desperation in his grasp had you seeing stars. You were bracing yourself on the rigid surface of his chest as you felt the familiar crawl of a second release sneaking up on you.

“Joel I’m gonna…” Your announcement was cut short by a surprised whine as Joel moved his hips along with yours, pushing himself even deeper into you. The way he was stretching, filling and holding onto you had your body straining and your vision blurring.

“Let me have it sweetheart.” 

The carnal grunt off Joel’s tongue as he coaxed you into another orgasm brought you to your finish. You were clutching at his chest, your body melting into his. The pleasure surging through your body caused you to lose all balance, making you slump forward until your forehead found his.

Joel reached for you, placing a hand carefully at the nape of your neck, holding you against him. 

“God you’re fuckin’ perfect.” Another groan was leaving his throat as he pushed his lips onto yours. You were still coming down from your high, pussy squeezing and clasping around him as he muffled your moans with his mouth. 

“So perfect baby.” He was mumbling as he used both of his hands to hold you firm, slowly bringing his hips up to meet yours. His pace was unhurried as he took pleasure in the way you fluttered around him. Then he got caught up in the moment, his tempo quickening. He was thrusting into you persistently, mercilessly rutting as breathless whimpers fell from his tongue. He was holding you still with his fingers curling into your hips as he drove into you— hard and fast.

He was groaning and greedily fucking up into you as his hips began to stutter. With a low guttural sound his movements ceased and you were met with the warmth of his release spreading into you.

He was frozen in place for a few seconds, catching his breath and gathering a sense of composure. You could feel him throbbing in you as his hands kept their hold on your hips. 

“That was so fuckin’ stupid.” He was muttering under his breath, and you immediately felt insecure. He was still inside you and he was already regretting hooking up with you?

“We don’t have to do it again Joel, it was just-“ You were beginning to defend yourself before Joel cut you off. 

”No sweetheart, comin’ in ya.” Joel looked at you with a sympathetic grin on his face.

“I can’t be doin’ that.” He was shaking his head at the poor decision of burying his spend deep inside you. 

“I’m on birth control, it’s okay.” You felt relieved to know his shame wasn’t about having sex with you, but rather his panic of potentially knocking you up. Understandable. 

“Don’t care it’s not smart.” He was reaffirming and leaning up to place a kiss on your forehead; a simple gesture but it had butterflies swarming your stomach.

“How ya gonna explain to your dad why it took so long to drop off leftovers?” Joel was releasing his clutch on your hips and letting his hands rest lightly on your thighs as he spoke. 

“Oh my god, please don’t talk about my dad right now.”

You were mortified. You couldn’t think about your dad. Not while you were straddling his best friend’s lap who’s come was fighting not to leak out between you. 

“Looks like I’m really gonna need to move out soon.” You were groaning and bringing your fingers to your temples, hiding your face in your hands. 

“Oh, without a doubt.” Joel was laughing at your predicament, but he’d be damned if he couldn’t keep having you like this. Now that he’d gotten a taste, he wouldn’t be letting you out of his sight any time soon.

my masterlist

[niennanir]

This was absolutely -not- my experience living among the Amish as a child where everything is still done the same way it was 200 years ago. Yes you had to wait for the stove to warm to bake, and while you were doing that you would cut beans for canning or peel the potatoes for dinner or set the pie crust for desert or at the very least sweep the floor. I had 5 great aunts, all conservative mennonite, who got up at 4 AM to start coffee and toast before milking at 5AM and breakfast at 7. They made lunch every day and dinner and then they wrapped up the kitchen some time after dinner at 7 and minus meal breaks that was a 13 hour work day and -I- did that every summer. Minus breakfast because I would pretend I was not alive until 8 every morning and my grandmother let me get away with it.

Relaxing? What's that? Has it got something to do with quilting?

These people had no idea what a chair was unless they were eating or shelling peas or sewing. And they were hands down the least anxious most easy going humans I have ever spent time with in my entire life.

Apart from learning how to make jam and dress a chicken I learned a lot of things from my grandmother and my great aunts and I can tell you exactly why everyone is so depressed and anxious. It's not that everyone's too busy. It's that everyone's too busy over the wrong things.

My grandparents didn't own a television until 1967, and they never, ever, had cable. As far as I know they only things they ever watched on TV were baseball and The Price is Right. To the day they died none of them had any understanding at all of what I do for a living because when I tried to explain the internet web site development to them they couldn't get past the fact that I had to sit so close to the 'TV' and there weren't any shows on.

They didn't worry about high fashion, Granma made everyone's clothes herself while the bread was baking. They didn't concern themselves with the latest tech unless it was a farm implement or a kitchen appliance. Their idea of social media was to whistle across the back pasture fence at their in-laws and ask how the cousins with the new baby were making out. There was no FOMO because there was nothing to miss out on as long as you were at church on Sunday.

We're depressed and anxious because we're putting too much importance on things that probably aren't going to matter in ten years instead of enjoying what we have. Humans are sturdy, we can handle a lot of physical labor. What we're not designed for is emotional turmoil.

[a-mint-bear]

You're Just What I Need

Male Yandere x Reader

You and your new... bedmate? Friend? Are starting to warm up to each other. But as safe as you're feeling, you can't help but wonder what his deal is. And if everything is actually okay here...

Part 2 of Comfort Object

[content warning for depicted violence and mentions of violence/murder]

· · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · ✦ · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · ·

It was an awkward silence while your mind seemed to run through what he’d asked you. Weighing every option, every pro and con. He wanted to try and say something, anything that would be the right thing that would win you over and make you want to stay, but something told him to stay quiet, to let you come to him.

You’d asked him his name, and he’d been all too eager. Which was… unusual for him. He had different names he used for different people, so no one really knew him. But for you…

“Colin. My name's Colin.” 

It felt right to tell you his real name, like he was starting to feel like himself again. He couldn’t help but smile when he heard you repeat it back to him. You were the only one who knew him now. And he wanted to know you too. 

After another moment of horrible silence and then you agreed. You would stay another night with him. You did ask if you were fine to stay for a few hours before coming back, and while he wanted to say you could stay as long as you wanted, he reeled it in. 

“Of course.” he realized he was still holding your hands, and he got it together, letting them go gently so as not to scare you off. “Take as long as you need.”

But you must’ve been exhausted because when he came back from the bathroom, you were asleep again. He wanted to lie next to you, so much that it hurt. It’d been so long since he’d wanted to sleep instead of desperately needing to. He wanted to hold you, or be held by you, lulled into the call of you until he was whole again. 

He wanted to be with you. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted someone. Beyond how their death could bring him that momentary peace. 

But if he was going to keep you around, he needed to get a few things.

· · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · ✦ · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · ·

You didn’t remember passing out again that morning, but when you woke up, you were alone. You spotted a note on the bedside table that said he’d be back in a bit. 

You couldn’t help but be a bit afraid that accepting this strange deal was a stupid mistake. That you weren’t safe here. 

It would be… okay if you had to go back out on the streets that night. Either situation was less risky than staying at a homeless shelter. 

If you were recognized by the wrong person…

If you were found…

You shook off the sick, panicked feeling that hit deep in your gut. You’d kept yourself hidden so far. There’d been a couple close calls, but... you always got away. This place was safe, you kept telling yourself.

As you spiraled down, Colin came back. He had a few bags with him, smiling at you just as warmly as he had that morning. 

You weren’t scared of him, not exactly, but it was hard to trust him fully. 

“You’ve gotta be starving.” He laughed, setting the bags down on the dresser close by. He handed you one of the plastic grocery bags, his fingers brushing against yours. “Sorry, I got a few options, I don't know what you like.”

He’d brought you warm soup and sandwiches from a nearby corner store deli, he informed you. It was all heavenly and made you feel so toasty and warm. He made it a bit awkward, just watching you eat, but you were too hungry to mind much. He showed you some of his other purchases as you ate, calling them “supplies”. 

A few essentials, products for he bathroom you needed. Some snacks he put away in the mini fridge beside the bed. A pair of plush house slippers, he smiled, joking about how the bathroom floor was like ice in the morning. A plush, thick blanket. One much nicer than the motel linens. And a set of warm pajamas for the chilly nights. Better than the sweater and jeans you'd slept in that night. 

It was nice of him, really. But something about it was just a little…

In a motel/hotel-type setting, it might just seem like little things to make your stay more comfortable, but for this…

Did he hope you’d be staying… for a while? Not just a second night? Or was he just being nice?

You pushed it out of your head. You could cross that bridge when you came to it. If that bridge had even been built at all. 

“I got your clothes from your bag and did a load here before I left.” He admitted after a moment, seeming worried. “I’m sorry for going through your stuff, I didn’t mean to. I just wanted to do something nice.”

It felt oddly intimate, somehow more so than sleeping next to him. But laundry was an expense you couldn’t afford, and you had so few pieces of clothing to your name anymore. Not much more than what you had on at the moment. 

You told him it was okay, and again, he just smiled. That smile of his was too much.

It’d been so long since you’d gotten such a seemingly genuine bit of kindness, ever since you found yourself more or less homeless. It was almost too much, like you didn’t know what to do with it. 

· · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · ✦ · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · ·

It’d been a long time since he’d felt so… here, this present for this long. 

The days and nights used to bleed together, one long suffocating bit of nothing, broken up by sudden fits and bursts of unspeakable violence. And again, on things went, as they always did. But here he was, with you, and he was feeling… okay. It’d been so long since he felt even close to okay.

The voices were still there, buzzing at the back of his brain. But they were calmer, almost… sated. The same way they were after he killed. When it wore him out enough to finally sleep.

Back when things made sense, back when he was still a person. With every part of him still there. It started with nights, one after the other where sleep just wouldn’t come. Or maybe it had been the voices that came to him first. He couldn’t remember anymore. 

Most days, he made money under the table at a seedy bar across town, cleaning up after the day drunks and ignoring the shady deals that went down in the back alley. 

He worked evenings at the front desk of the motel, sometimes he cleaned up too when the usual cleaner was off. He wasn’t supposed to stay all night, but sometimes when he was days away from another kill, he just stayed behind the counter and no one cared. The owner was a creep, who kept spotty records at best of who stayed so that he could look the other way when questionable folks stayed, jacking up the nightly rates.

Wanted men, hired guns, predators and perverts alike. Anyone who didn’t want police looking for them and would pay extra for the owner’s silence. And for his own silence, Colin got a hefty cut. It came with a free room, even if he didn’t sleep. Not paying rent left him with plenty of money for the people he needed.

And there had been a few times, it was hard to remember how many exactly, where he’d caught one of the guests doing something they really shouldn’t’ve been doing and taken them out instead of finding another victim. If he made a little extra by going through their things afterwards and maybe selling some of it to a silent connection or two, then that was his business.

Not to mention living in the motel made doing what he did a bit easier, doing it on his “home turf”. He knew all the nooks and crannies, all the blind spots and which rooms were occupied. It was isolated and under the radar, which was exactly what he needed.

He lived his life like he didn’t exist. No one knew him, and no one remembered him. He could move through the city without anyone caring he was there. He needed it that way, if he wanted to keep killing.

And he did. He needed to.

That’s the way it had to be, he used to tell himself. 

Until you answered his ad.

Every moment he spent with you made him so grateful that you’d found him. 

And now that you were here, with him…

He couldn’t go back to that.

· · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · ✦ · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · ·

You settled into bed with him for the second night, wondering how long he would keep you around for.

But the night turned into day again, and again, you were still sleeping next to him. You were still here with him.

He left during the day for hours, though he seemed a bit reluctant about it, he needed to go to work. You didn’t know what he did, but he reassured you that staying another night and sticking around during the day was no problem for him. And each morning, you woke up to the same payment under your pillow. 

Did he have a good, steady job? Was he secretly loaded? Did money just not mean much to him? Or was this whole setup just that important to him that money was the last thing on his mind?

You tried not to think about if you were, in a weird way, taking advantage of the situation. Taking advantage of him. You pushed it all down, trying not to think about what would come later, just  trying to fall asleep as he snored lightly in your arms.

It still felt just a bit odd and awkward, but… kind of nice.

The way he looked at you, with that warm, almost intense stare that felt like it practically surrounded you when you caught him staring. And when he saw that you saw him, shied away, cheeks on fire. But after a while, he didn’t look away. Only smiled that warm smile, looking almost smitten.

When you’d first met him, he’d had such a hard time looking you in the eye. He’d been so awkward and anxious. And he still was, no question. But now it felt like his eyes never left you. And…

It wasn’t the worst thing… It felt like too much to admit out loud, but still. 

Colin had been kind to you, in this odd way of his. Maybe if you had somewhere or someone to call home, you’d find all this too weird and too intimate. You probably would’ve never even met. But here, now, he was slowly becoming everything. Your conversation partner, the person you shared your meals with, where you laid your head at night… 

Having someone who saw you, really saw you, after knowing what it felt like to be invisible? It was… comforting, to say the very least. Warm and inviting and...here. It pulled you out of a very dark place when that was all you knew.

And when his hands found you in his sleep, tucking his head to your chest, it was hard not to think of him as… yours.

You held back, because outside of the closeness you’d found at night in this cheap but oh-so warm motel bedding, you didn’t know how he saw you. If he didn’t want you… in that way, and he pushed you away? You’d be left with nothing again. And not even the money you’d earned so far would be worth going back to that feeling.

It wasn’t just the warm bed and the food, the shower, the money or the sense of safety you felt with him that you’d regret losing. 

It was him. 

You tried to convince yourself that you didn’t miss sleeping next to someone, but deep down, you knew that was a lie. Especially now when you’d had to isolate yourself so much. He was really the first person you’d been able to really talk to for a long while.

He stopped by for meals together during the day, and when eleven p.m. hit, he was in for the night. When you were alone, resting and alone with your thoughts, you would be tempted to leave, even if it was to go out for a bit to pick up something you needed. But when you touched the door handle to the room, you were hit with a wave of all that too familiar anxiety and helplessness.

No one knew you were here, except Colin. You were hidden here, safe. If you left, there was a chance they would find you. 

So you stayed. Just waiting for Colin to come back. Seeing him was quickly becoming the best part of your day, as embarrassing as that was sometimes. He was starting to become… more. To you.

You wish you knew how to feel about that. 

· · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · ✦ · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · ·

You seemed to have these walls around you, he thought. 

You weren’t… afraid, not entirely. It was more like…

Like someone had hurt you. Like you were too hurt to let him in, beyond holding him at night. 

You had been with him for almost a week by then, and everything had been calm. 

Somehow… he trusted-... yeah... Trusted whatever this was. He wanted you to stay, and every time he came back to the motel, you were still there. Waiting for him with a smile that said you were warming up to him. Trusting him just a little bit more.

In the quieter moments, before he fell asleep with you, sometimes he would hear them again. He almost felt like something was clutching at the back of his neck, stuck in that moment as the paranoid, conflicting thoughts played in a nauseating loop.

That no one could really help him.

That you were his salvation. 

That the safety he felt was a fluke and whatever this was couldn’t actually last.

That you knew he’d brought you here to kill you. 

That the only thing that’d saved you was something he’d never expected to feel, and it could stop at any time. 

That you would hurt him.

That he would hurt you.

That you should run.

That he should do whatever he could to keep you close.

Endlessly, all of it hammered away at his reasoning, pushing on the back of his eyes. 

But as he held you, the tension left his muscles. His thoughts quieted and he just focused on your sleeping face. Whatever had a hold on him felt so weak with you near. You were his. And nothing would take you away from him. 

· · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · ✦ · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · ·

He was getting ready to leave one morning when you asked him something he somehow hadn’t prepared for. 

Why were you here?

You were sitting on the edge of the bed, barely meeting his eyes. 

“Why, uh…” He stumbled over his words. “Is something wrong?”

You were upsettingly quick to tell him that you were grateful that he’d let you stay here. For the food, for the money, and for not asking questions. It made his heart hurt how guarded you still seemed, but he let you go on. You said you just felt like you needed to understand, even just a little. 

You wondered out loud if you were just here to literally warm the bed, that maybe that was all you were good for anyway. Not like you had anything else to offer anyone.

He was frozen. He’d never had to comfort and reassure anyone before, at least not that he could remember. What if he said the wrong thing? What if he made it worse?

You held yourself, like his silence confirmed your fears. Like you were so wary of everything. How long had it been since you could trust someone? 

He felt himself stop breathing when you laughed at your own worry, smiling up at him with tears in your eyes. You apologized, telling him never mind, that you were just being stupid.

He sat next to you, despite wanting to just hold you. He could see you were hurting, and he just wanted to make you... better.

“It’s okay, I just…” He wasn’t… this wasn’t him. But he needed to try. You needed this. “I can’t sleep. And…”

He hesitated, not knowing if it was right to say.

 “It’s… it’s a long story, but… I used to do… something else. To get to sleep. And if I didn’t…” 

He remembered every kill. When he couldn’t sleep, they were fuzzy on the edge of his thoughts. But now they were so clear. He remembered their faces. How they struggled. The burn in his muscles from the kill. How he felt the relief of exhaustion wash over him like nothing else could bring him. 

“If I didn’t do it, I wouldn’t get to sleep for days. Things got... bad. But then I found you! O-or, I guess you found me, ya know?”

Carefully, slowly, he took your hand in his, gauging if you were okay with it. You didn’t pull away, and he knew he must look so weak to you. So pathetic. But it was hard to let go.

“I really do need you, ya know?” His thumb grazing the back of your hand, laying his head on your shoulder. He closed his eyes, trusting you beyond everything that told him he shouldn’t. “With you, everything is gonna be okay.”

· · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · ✦ · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · ·

He had a faraway look in his eyes, like he was remembering something unpleasant. You wondered if it was drugs or something else he might be scared or embarrassed to admit. 

He was being so vulnerable with you. And it should’ve made you feel so uncomfortable, like it was too much to put on you for someone you barely knew. But it didn’t. 

It didn’t bother you at that moment. It was an odd reason, if a real “reason” at all. 

When he finally left, all you could do was sit on the bed, your chin resting on your knees as you held your legs up against you, the position making you feel more alert, safer. You stared at the door, fearing every sound, every shadow that passed by the door as other guests walked to their rooms.

You were hidden away here, you told yourself. No one knew you were here. Except Colin. He’d be back for lunch soon and you could relax for a bit before he had to leave again.

He needed you. You weren’t a burden to him. It was weird, but it was enough to be useful to him, even if it was just for a bit.

Wasn’t it?

It weighed on you as you tried to get to sleep that night was a bunch of questions you’d pushed out of your head until then.

How long were you going to be allowed to stay here? 

How was everything going to be fine now when it wasn’t going to last?

He needed you? Who said that to someone they barely knew?

If he needed you to be able to sleep…

Would he find someone else once you were gone?

He was asleep in your arms as you layed there, wide awake with this anxious, enveloping worry. It kind of hit you then, that as comfortable as you were here, with him… as safe as you felt…

If he knew about you, what you’d been through… would he still want you around?

None of this could last forever. It had only worked out that way so far because you had nowhere else to go. 

What did you expect? You scolded yourself. It’s not like it was anything real. You weren’t dating, or lovers. You weren’t even friends, not really. 

You didn’t really know anything about him… It all started eating away at you. 

Him, depending so much on you.

You, just as dependent on him.

And you… making more out of this situation with him than it was.

Even then, with all those thoughts swarming in your head, you still felt his body heat on you. You still held him close and fell into the rhythm of his breathing. You still craved that closeness, that certainty that when you woke up in the morning, he would still be there.

Deep down, you wanted so badly to stay. But you couldn’t open up to him like that…

You couldn’t get hurt again. 

If you stayed too long… 

It would be better for both of you if you just left.

. . .

“I have to go out again.” He sighed, grabbing his shoes and sitting on the edge of the bed to get them on. “It’s my day off tomorrow, so we can spend the whole day together.”

You felt guilty for what you were about to do, but you didn’t know if you could do it if he was around. Either he’d want you to stay and make it harder to leave or he’d smile and wish you well. 

You weren’t sure which one would hurt more. 

He left with that sweet, warm smile, and just for a moment… You wished he would kiss you goodbye. 

That was as much as you were willing to let yourself feel. 

It was for the best.

· · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · ✦ · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · ·

His hands shook, the note tearing suddenly under his panicked, unsteady grip.

“No…” He was hit by a wave of revoltion and panic, tossing it away like it’d burned him. “No… no, fuck fuck fuck FUCK-!!”

He held himself, trying to steady the lurching unease hitting him deep. His shirt rode up as he curled forward into the old, shaggy carpet, the pain let him focus as his nails dug into his skin just above his hips. 

“It’s okay. You’re okay…” he tried to soothe himself, but it was already hitting him. 

You were gone. And he had no clue where to find you. If you never came back…

. . .

“If I knew where they went, I would be with them!!” he shouted back, hating how clear the voices were already. He needed to calm down. “I have to… have to…”

His legs felt weak. You couldn’t be gone… He still needed you. If you were gone… it wouldn’t be long before everything fell apart again. Not long until the voices would be all he could hear, tormenting him until he could finally find sleep again.

Killing again was one thing, it didn’t matter how many people he needed.

He needed you more.

Desperately clawing at the blanket you’d left behind, like it would keep him from losing himself entirely. Pulling it close, it still smelled like you. He knew it was in his head, but he could swear it was still warm, like you’d only just left.

There was a deafening pounding on the motel room door. 

“Ryan! You piece of shit!!” A loud voice from the door called to him. “You were supposed to be at the front desk a half hour ago!! I’m gettin’ money somewhere else! If you’re spacin’ out again, I’m gonna wring your fuckin’ neck!!”

Ryan… That was the name the manager knew him by. It sounded like he’d been drinking, he’d probably come straight from the bar when he got a call that no one was at the desk to check them in.

He stood up, moving wordlessly over to the door, opening it to his furious boss.

“I knew you were here!!” he shouted in “Ryan’s” face, his breath reeked of cheap whisky. “You been cryin’ or somethin’?? Fuckin’ answer me!!”

He stuck his head out, looking around outside the door. One way. Then the other. 

No one was around.

“What?! Got nothin’ to say to me you little-”

He grabbed the man’s shoulders, driving his knee under the bottom of his ribs with all his strength. The drunk doubled over, gasping and wheezing, dropping to his knees. 

He was suddenly dragged by his shirt collar to the bathroom, and before he could rasp out in confusion or anger or fear, He felt the dull ache of being grabbed by his hair. But it was quickly replaced by the pain of his face being repeatedly bashed into the granite bathroom countertop. He quickly went limp.

When Colin finally stopped, it was only because his hands were too slick to hold on any longer. 

“Gone…” He panted. “You’re gone. Where… where are you…”

He had to find you. 

When he did… 

It wasn’t how he wanted to get closer to you. He wanted you to open up to him, to tear down those walls you had built to keep him out. He wanted to make you think of him as yours, as someone you could hold on to. Someone you needed, like he needed you.

You always seemed so... on edge.

If you needed to feel safe, then…

Colin would make sure he was the only safe place for you to go.

Even if he had to make you see it.

· · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · ✦ · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · ·

hello everybody! would ya believe i rewrote this like four times?? but i'm really glad i did, as this is the best version so far.

hope it lives up to part 1, and that you all like it c:

once again, if you know and hate/are repulsed by a Colin in your life, i'm so sorry

can't have a romance without stupid, avoidable misunderstandings, ya know? but in this case it just seems smart on the reader's end. don't answer sketchy internet ads, kids

originally, this had just as many words but nothing really happened. it was more of a chapter where we learned all the same information, but he emotions explored felt, idk flatter? like it was saying all the same stuff but it was just not quite right.

Colin started off being very vague about his killing, but it didn't really fit his character. as much as he'd rather not kill, he doesn't feel guilty about it. to him, it's just something he does. like an annoying chore. but he's present enough to know you'd get scared off if you knew.

so as a result, there are some cw tags on this post

don't know how specific i should be about the reader's past, if getting too specific would make their side of it take the reader out of it.

just know they're basically in hiding, and they don't just leave town for a reason, i promise

haven't thought of what little yandere pet name he'd use for the reader yet, but it's in the works

i had some backstory stuff for Colin too, but it just felt out of place, so if you wanna know some stuff, send an ask ✌️

part three is where he really gets to be an all-out yandere, so here's hoping y'all come back for that (eventually lol) this part was originally going to be the last (or at least where everything happened) but then it just turned into more and more until i was like screw it, part 3

i'm sure i'll spot some typos or unfinished sentences in here somewhere when i re-read this later so bear with me please

i got laundry to do, peace out y'all

eta: i forgot to make them kiss!! def in part 3, it didn't quite fit here.

i can't remember if anyone asked me to tag them for part 2 and i can't find any mentions, but something tells me i was supposed to and i dropped the ball...

im not entirely happy with the header, but it was last minute and ive been rewriting this all day and just wanted to move on with my day lol might replace it? but im lazy so probably not *shrug*

[gojo-mochi]

Telling OP Char: “Are you gonna eat that?” And pointing to their crouch

Something silly - Based on that one Tweet

TW: Suggestive

Luffy:

 Says “No” with a mouthful of food, he doesn’t know what you’re pointing at, but he assume it’s food and he will not share that easily. When you point again, trying to make it known to him that you’re not about to steal any of his dinner, Luffy will just get confused on why you want to eat his shorts.

“Are shorts tasty? Should I try eating mine right now?!” 

Will take off his shorts in the middle of dinner, or at least try to until someone yells at him for doing it. You will have to drag him inside a room later and just show him what you really meant.

Sanji:

Doesn’t get it at first, mostly worried about you being hungry first of all. 

“Oh, are you still hungry, dear? I can whip something up for you real quick! Anything you like~” 

What you like is Sanji maybe with some whipped cream on top as well. So, you repeat the question, this time making your point known by running your hand up his thigh and gently palming his crouch. His face gets beat-red and he drops any cooking utensil he was holding in his hands.

“Like right here? In the kitchen? Right now?” Sanji seems panicked and flustered with his questions but he’s quickly approaching you with each question he asked, until your back hits one of the table in the kitchen. His hands on either side, his breath quicken and short as he looks down at you. All you needed to seal with the deal was lean and for a kiss and Sanji would handle the rest. He’ll even let you use the whipped cream on him if you really want to.

Zoro:

Quirks an eyebrow at you and says nothing, goes back to his workout and pretend you’re not there. He was lifting a 300-pound weight like it was nothing. 

“...Can I take your silence as a ‘yes’?”

You weren’t gonna back down that easily. You hear Zoro snort, but his expression doesn’t change. “What was the question again?”

You sigh, “I asked if you were going to- *you point to the middle of his sweatpants* eat that?”

Zoro fights hard to keep a straight face as he counters with “Eat my pants? You’re asking if I was going to eat my pants in the middle of my workout?”

“That’s not what I-”

“Oh no, you meant that as one of your cutesy-jokes, right? What you actually mean is that you want to suck me off, hmm? You want to put that pretty little mouth right on my cock and use your sweet tongue to lick up all the sweat down there and then you want to-”

You slap your hand over Zoro’s mouth, you feel his mouth move into a smirk underneath your palms. Damn it, it was his victory this time. 

Robin:

Smiles gently at you, and closes the book she was reading and placed it on the table. She say nothing to you but just kept on staring at you with that smile. You start to sweat a bit, it feels like you’re in trouble for making this joke to her.

“Umm, I’m really sorry, I-I’ll just go now.”

You turn to leave and just when you were about to put your hand on the door, a set of hands springs out from the door and turns you back around to face robin. Her hands pushed you towards her actual body as she waits at the same spot, leg crossed and that patient smile on her face. 

More sweat beads down your neck as the silence stretches on for what seems like hours. The hands keeps you in place, so you can’t make another attempt to escape.

“..., Robin?”

“No.”

You make a confused face. “No?” You repeat back to her. 

“No, I’m not. So, are you going to finish it for me?” Her tone level and cool, still confusing the heck out of you though. Robin leans back in her chair and uncrossed her legs, lifting up the hem of her skirt with one finger. 

“Oh? … Oh!” 

Well, it would be rude to leave now, right? You gotta finish what you started. And it not like Robin will let you leave that easier, anyway, but don’t worry her hands will also be helping themselves to your body as you start your meal~

Kidd: 

“What..?” 

Kidd looks at you with a scowl on his face. Then down at his pants and then back up to you. “If you want to suck my cock was say so, don’t confuse me with that shit.” 

You roll your eyes, lightly kicking him in the shins for being a spoil-sport about it. You turn your back to him and start leave when you hear Kidd shout at you. 

“Oy! I didn’t say no! You can’t just leave like that! I’m already hard thinking about it!” 

You hold back a snicker and look back at Kidd, fluttering you eyelashes at him cutely. “You have to play along though~” 

Kidd makes a face at that, scowling even harder. He grumbles something under his breath. 

“What was that? You gotta be louder.”

“I’ll show you loud…” Kidd sighs heavily, weighing the options in his head. 

“Fine… No, I am not going to eat my cock, so would you please come finish it for me or whatever.”

“Oh my! Captain Kidd said the word ‘Please’? It must be my lucky day!” 

Kidd face turns beet red as he stomps over to you and throws you over his shoulder. “Shut up, I did what you ask for, so you better be ready to eat all of it.” 

“And if I find a single drop on the floor, I’ll make you lick it up in front of me, got it?”

[undead-moth]

I'm an English Composition teacher at a university, and I completely prohibit the use of generative AI/LLMs in my class. I'm adamantly opposed to their use, so don't get me wrong when I say that this study is bunk science and should not be taken seriously.

Methodology

The study relies on self-reporting. All of their data is based on surveys done by participants, who were asked to record when they perceived themselves to be critically thinking. Even setting aside that any of the participants could have lied, how objectively can they assess themselves? Worse yet, what does their perception prove? It's not only unreliable, it also doesn't prove anything.

2. Meaningless units of measurement

"Critical thinking" is not, and can't be, a factually defined concept. Whether or not someone is critically thinking, or capable of critically thinking, is essentially a matter of generally agreed-upon opinion.

As you can see here, they are still using the word "perceived" because there is no other option. It is impossible to quantify someone's critical thinking.

Quality is also a matter of perception.

They even admit in their limitations section that this caused problems while surveying participants and may have contaminated their data. Some of their participants didn't understand that just because they were able to do something easily, or quickly, does not mean they were able to do so because they were critically thinking with ease, which goes back to my first point. I doubt this is the only example of participant misunderstandings. This is, frankly, beyond a limitation. Even if everything else about this study was airtight, this would make their results meaningless anyway. If your participants have a different understanding of what critical thinking is, or what it means to critically think than you do, and they are providing your data, you can't meaningfully conclude anything from the data.

3. Recruitment

The way they selected participants was by recruiting people who regularly use generative AI/LLMs. Not only does this mean that there's no control, but we also don't know anything else about these participants that may be affecting their preexisting critical thinking skills. This contributes to there being no legitimate way of speculating if generative AI/LLMs is influencing how much or how little they're using critical thinking when they use generative AI/LLMs and when they're not.

4. This study proves nothing, but more importantly, this study wasn't even on what they are claiming it was on.

The highlighted portion here is quoted by the 404 Media article above, and it is taken out of context. In the introduction, they explain that an "overreliance" on any form of automation has historically been theorized to have the potential to lead to "atrophy."

First of all, even if this is true, this study didn't follow these participants over time, nor were they required to use generative AI/LLMs exclusively for every daily situation that might require critical thinking, which would be the only way to ensure "overreliance" and the only way to determine if "overreliance" led to "atrophy."

They are hypothesizing that using generative AI/LLMs could potentially "atrophy" critical thinking skills in the event someone "overrelies" on it.

They even compare "overreliance" on generative AI/LLMs to writing, printing, calculators, and the internet - none of which have been proven to "atrophy" critical thinking skills and given that the alternative to generative AI/LLMs is literally writing, which they implicitly argue doesn't atrophy critical thinking skills, I think it's fair to say their hypothesizing here isn't objective.

Plus:

"Overreliance" has the same issue "critical thinking" has. It's a matter of generally agreed-upon opinion. How do you measure overreliance? What constitutes overreliance? Based on the definition above, isn't it possible for people to accept incorrect recommendations or make errors of commission while not "overrelying"? If so - and it is so - how can you ever know if "overreliance" is truly at fault, or even at play?

This also doesn't account for the fact that many other daily situations require critical thinking skills, and many other daily situations don't require critical thinking skills. Even if someone became "overreliant" on generative AI/LLMs, that would not mean they aren't critically thinking regularly in other daily situations, including daily situations that require the exact same critical thinking skills generative AI/LLMs are hypothetically enabling people not to use. If someone uses generative AI/LLMs regularly, does that stop them from reading in their free time? No, obviously not. So...couldn't that mean that even if someone "overrelied" on generative AI/LLMs, that they could still prevent "atrophy" elsewhere in their life? There's also the issue that even if generative AI/LLMs enables users not to critically think, that really doesn't in any way prove that will lead to "atrophy." I would argue that folding laundry doesn't require critical thought, and most people fold laundry regularly - yet it has never led to "atrophy." Doing something that doesn't require critical thinking regularly doesn't by default lead to an inability to critically think, especially if someone is critically thinking in other areas of life - which, most people, whether it seems like it or not, are, and every day.

And this is important to stress entirely because they are arguing that only by becoming "overreliant" on generative AI/LLMs could critical thinking skills "atrophy." They are not, even hypothetically, arguing that just using generative AI/LLMs itself "atrophies" critical thinking skills, which makes Emanuel Maiberg's (author of this 404 Media article) choice in title outright negligent misinformation.

There is no current evidence that using generative AI/LLMs "atrophies" critical thinking. There is some - unprovable - evidence - based on self-reported surveys - that generative AI/LLMs might - because confounding variables are not accounted for - enable someone to do work that typically requires critical thinking without having to critically think - no different than a calculator.

I am not even remotely of the opinion that generative AI/LLM use is comparable to the calculator, but that does not change the fact that all this study proved is that generative AI/LLMs might not, in all instances, require users to critically think, and that does not prove anything.

Here they pretty much admit that it is entirely hypothetical that using generative AI/LLMs could lead to "atrophy." They argue that anyone who doesn't exercise their critical thinking skills regularly can lose them. (This, by the way, we already knew.) They reason that it's possible someone who "overrelies" on using generative AI/LLMs might not be exercising their critical thinking skills regularly, and therefore it could enable the "atrophying" of their critical thinking skills.

This reasoning relies on ignoring confounding variables, which makes it unsound.

Additionally, even if what they are hypothesizing could possibly happen, it would not mean there is anything innately about generative AI/LLMs that causes critical thinking "atrophy." It would only mean that someone who never exercises their critical thinking skills loses them, which we already knew, and was true long before generative AI/LLMs could arguably help enable - not cause - enable people to lose critical thinking skills.

I'll end this firstly by saying that those of us, myself included, who have an ethical objection, and a practical objection to generative AI/LLMs, (I personally still believe that generative AI/LLMs make it so that someone who hasn't yet developed certain critical thinking skills can avoid ever having to develop them, which is I suppose arguably an adjacent line of thinking to this study) firstly need to keep an eye out for their own confirmation bias - I know how tantalizing the title of that 404 Media article is. I know when we see a title like that, we feel very vindicated in our stance - but we have to be vigilant. We have rational and justified objections to generative AI/LLMs that I believe will in time be scientifically and/or factually reported - but this study isn't one, and many won't be. We can't fall prey to misinformation or anti-scientific thought just because it says what we want to hear.

Secondly, I would encourage everyone whose first thought when they read that title was vindication to consider that the people who conducted this study, consciously or unconsciously, may have an ulterior motive for arguing that generative AI/LLMs cause critical thinking "atrophy." Science is never conducted, nor accepted, in a social vacuum, and I would honestly bet that virtually all studies aiming to prove, or worse, claiming to prove - as this one does - that critical thinking "atrophy" exists, are trying to create a scientifically-supported case for "degeneracy," meant to justify eugenics. This is also something we need to be vigilant about.

One of the common mistakes I see for people relying on "AI" (LLMs and image generators) is that they think the AI they're interacting with is capable of thought and reason. It's not. This is why using AI to write essays or answer questions is a really bad idea because it's not doing so in any meaningful or thoughtful way. All it's doing is producing the statistically most likely expected output to the input.

This is why you can ask ChatGPT "is mayonnaise a palindrome?" and it will respond "No it's not." but then you ask "Are you sure? I think it is" and it will respond "Actually it is! Mayonnaise is spelled the same backward as it is forward"

All it's doing is trying to sound like it's providing a correct answer. It doesn't actually know what a palindrome is even if it has a function capable of checking for palindromes (it doesn't). It's not "Artificial Intelligence" by any meaning of the term, it's just called AI because that's a discipline of programming. It doesn't inherently mean it has intelligence.

So if you use an AI and expect it to make something that's been made with careful thought or consideration, you're gonna get fucked over. It's not even a quality issue. It just can't consistently produce things of value because there's no understanding there. It doesn't "know" because it can't "know".

[holyblonded]

‘merica baby | stargirl

pairings: uswnt x teen!reader

summary: your first camp with the senior team

warnings: estrella and sonnet 😭

notes: estrella menacing on a different continent alert 🗣️🗣️

The sharp thud of your foot striking the ball echoes through the training ground, followed by the unmistakable snap of the net rippling as the ball rockets into the bottom corner.

“Again. Top left this time,” the assistant coach calls, tossing another ball into your path.

You barely break stride, your body moving on instinct. A sharp touch to control, a quick glance, and then, boom. Another strike, that lands right into the left corner of the goal.

From across the field, a group of veterans watches you closely.

“Damn,” Kelley mutters, arms crossed as she observes the drill. “She’s got a cannon on her.”

“Yeah,” Alex agrees, eyebrows raised slightly. “And she’s hitting those. Not just power, placement too.”

Megan lets out a low whistle. “Kid’s a sniper.”

“Didn’t she leave the Spanish youth team?” Sonnett asks, tilting her head. “Like, just dipped?”

“Yeah,” Alex nods. “There was some shady stuff going on with a coach, and she called them out. Said she’d never play for them again.”

That gets some approving nods from the group.

“Takes guts,” Megan says, watching as you send another shot flying into the top bins like it’s nothing. “Especially at her age. It’s admirable.”

“Wonder what she’s like?” Sonnett muses. “She’s been all business since she got here. Intense.”

Right on cue, Tobin and Christen stroll over, looking smug.

“Oh, she’s funny,” Tobin says casually.

The vets turn to them, eyebrows raised.

“You met her?” Alex asks.

Christen grins. “Yeah. We ran into her when she landed. Sweet kid. A bit mischievous.”

“Mischievous?” Kelley repeats, intrigued.

Tobin nods, smirking. “Cute too. We like her.”

With a shared glance, the veterans decide it’s time to introduce themselves properly.

As you line up another shot, you hear footsteps approaching. You glance up to see Megan, Alex, Kelley, and Sonnett standing nearby, watching you with amused expressions.

Megan gestures toward the goal. “You trying to break the net, or…?”

You wipe your face with the sleeve of your training top and shrug. “Just making sure it knows who’s in charge.”

Sonnett snickers. “I like her already.”

Alex steps forward, offering her hand. “We just wanted to come say hi. Welcome to the team, Y/n.”

You shake her hand, glancing at the others as they introduce themselves. “I go by Estrella.”

Megan grins. “We were just talking about you.”

“Oh?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Tobin and Christen said you’re funny,” Kelley says, nudging you playfully. “You hiding that from us?”

A slow smirk tugs at your lips. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m just waiting for the perfect moment.”

Megan throws her head back laughing. “Oh, she’s good.”

“Yeah,” Alex agrees, clapping you on the shoulder. “I think you’re gonna fit in just fine, kid.”

“I’m fine, Ale. I promise to call you before I head to training tomorrow. Love you, bye.”

You set the phone down, hoping to catch some shut eye, but as soon as you flip over in your bed you are met with the eyes of Emily Sonnet. Instead of screaming you stare back oddly.

“Is this is what it’s going to be like in America?” You questioned allowed.

Emily laughed off your comment and held out a hand, as if she had just made the most normal entrance in the world. “Welcome to the USWNT, rookie. You’re mine now.”

You blinked. “I—what?”

Sonnett grinned. “We’re pranking the team. Right now. Get up.”

Before you could protest, she yanked you out of bed, shoving a roll of toilet paper into your hands. “We have about an hour before anyone starts waking up. Let’s make it count.”

And just like that, you were running down the hotel hallway with Emily, trying not to laugh too loudly as you worked your way through the rooms.

You both snuck into Kelley and Crystal’s room, careful not to wake them. Emily pulled out a Sharpie and drew an elegant mustache on Kelley’s face, while you gently placed a cup of water on the top of the slightly ajar bathroom door, ready to tip over as soon as someone went in.

Before leaving, you whispered to Emily, “Think they’ll murder us in the morning?”

“Oh, absolutely,” she whispered back.

The next on the list were Lindsey and Rose. The two were dead asleep, so you simply rearranged all their furniture to be slightly off. The lamp was upside down, their shoes were swapped, and Rose’s training gear was mysteriously replaced with an oversized hoodie labeled PROPERTY OF SONNET.

This time for the Mewis Sisters, you left a small Bluetooth speaker hidden under their bed, set to play an ominous whispering sound at random intervals.

You heard the sisters exclaims of confusion, making you and Emily snicker.

Finally, feeling victorious, you and Emily sprinted down the hall to your final target: Tobin and Christen’s room.

The plan was simple, flip their room inside out, maybe saran-wrap their door. But as soon as Emily reached for the handle, the door swung open on its own.

Tobin and Christen stood there, arms crossed.

You froze mid-step. Emily, to her credit, at least tried to play it cool. “Oh, hey, guys! Crazy seeing you here.”

Tobin raised an eyebrow. “Do you know what time it is?”

“Uh…” You glanced at Emily. She was no help, suddenly very invested in the carpet pattern.

Christen sighed. “Emily, go back to your room.”

Emily grinned, clapped you on the shoulder, and whispered, “Good luck, kid,” before disappearing down the hall.

You gulped. Tobin turned to you, shaking her head. “You’re coming with us.”

You frowned. “Where exactly am I—”

“You’re sleeping in Alex’s room tonight,” Christen interrupted, already texting. “You clearly need better supervision. I don’t even know how you and Emily got paired together.”

Your jaw dropped. “Are you serious? It was Emily’s idea!”

Tobin smirked. “And you went along with it.”

Minutes later, you found yourself standing in Alex Morgan’s room, rubbing the back of your neck as she tried to look stern—but you could tell she was holding back a smile.

“So,” Alex sighed, arms crossed. “You and Sonnett decided to prank half the team on your first night?”

You shrugged, a smirk growing on your face. “Technically, she decided. I just… assisted.”

Alex pinched the bridge of her nose but finally chuckled. “Alright, troublemaker, go to bed. I expect you bright and early at breakfast.”

“You know, you remind me of my mami. Your names are similar and you have the same disappointed looks on your face.”

You crawled into the spare bed, grinning slightly. Sure, you got caught and you got sentenced to Alex’s Supervision Jail, but it was better than your youth team days.

You should’ve known that waking up to Emily Sonnett looming over you at six in the morning meant trouble.

“Rise and shine, partner in crime,” she whispered, grinning like a madwoman.

You groaned and rolled over, burying your face in your pillow. “Sonnett, it’s six. In the morning.”

“Exactly. Prime time for pranking. Now get up, we’re going big at breakfast.”

Your eyes snapped open in interest as you squinted at her. “Define big.”

Emily’s grin widened. “I’m talking Hall of Fame-level pranking. Something they’ll talk about for years.”

You sat up, now fully intrigued. “I’m listening.”

She held up a small bag of sugar packets. Or what should have been sugar packets.

“That’s salt,” you deadpanned.

Emily nodded proudly. “Indeed, it is.”

It was then that you knew today was going to be amazing.

The team had barely started rolling into the dining hall when you and Emily made your move. Some players were still half-asleep—Lindsey had bedhead, Sam was blinking blearily at her cereal, and Rose was sitting next to her, dead-eyed, barely functioning.

Perfect. You took a deep breath, then dramatically launched yourself onto the floor like you’d just been hit by a freight train.

“MY LEG!” you howled, clutching your shin like you’d been mortally wounded.

Chaos. Immediate chaos.

Crystal Dunn jumped up so fast she nearly flipped her chair. “Oh my God, are you okay?!”

Kelley almost choked on her coffee.

Rose, still groggy, blinked at you in confusion. “Did… did you just fall on your own?”

Meanwhile, behind the distraction, Emily was working her magic.

She snuck behind the food counter, swapping out all the sugar in the coffee station with salt. Then, she grabbed the last plate of pancakes, lifted the top one, and doused the bottom layer with extra-spicy hot sauce before neatly stacking them back.

Her final masterpiece? Swiping Megan Rapinoe’s phone and changing the autocorrect settings so that every time she typed yes, it autocorrected to I love Sonnett and Estrella.

Crystal was now kneeling beside you, a hand on your shin. “Where does it hurt?” You blinked. Sat up. Stretched your leg.

“Never mind,” you said brightly. “I’m good.”

The room fell into silence.

Crystal blinked at you.

Kelley groaned. “This is what happens when we let Sonnett befriend the rookies.”

The first victim: Lindsey Horan.

She took a long sip of her coffee, expecting sweet, comforting caffeine. Instead…

“WHAT THE—” She spat it back into her cup so aggressively that it splashed onto her sleeve.

“WHO DID THIS? WHO REPLACED THE SUGAR WITH SALT?!”

Emily and you kept your heads down, shoveling food into your mouths like innocent angels.

Then Megan Rapinoe took a bite of her pancakes and immediately contorted her face.

“WHAT THE ACTUAL F—”

She lunged for her water, chugging it in record time while frantically fanning her mouth.

“WHO DID THIS?!” she wheezed.

Emily covered her mouth, shoulders shaking. You could barely hold it together.

Then came Kelley O’Hara. She picked up her phone, started typing, then frowned.

“…I love Sonnett and Estrella?” she read out loud, confused.

Her head snapped up.

Emily lost it. She was laughing so hard she nearly fell off her chair. Now, the entire room was onto you.

Tobin stood with her arms crossed. “You two are menaces.”

Christen sighed, rubbing her temples. “We should’ve kept her in our room last night.”

Alex, ever the responsible adult, stood up. “Alright, you know the rule. If you pull off this big of a prank, you pay for it.”

Emily elbowed you. “This is where she makes us run.”

Kelley, still trying to fix her phone, smirked. “Oh, you bet they’re running.”

And that’s how you and Emily found yourselves running endless laps around the training pitch while the entire team enjoyed their breakfast.

Some of the devils even cheered when you passed.

“Was it worth it?” Emily huffed beside you.

You glanced at the dining hall window, where Megan was still chugging water, Lindsey was glaring at her salty coffee, and Kelley was angrily texting while her phone kept auto-correcting.

You grinned. “No doubt, man.”