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#probably not. i just needed to get this out
luulapants · 2 days
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talking to people recently out of prison: a do-and-don't guide
Don't ask, "How was prison?" (Answer: traumatic!)
Do ask, "What are you most looking forward to doing again now that you're out?"
Don't ask, "How long were you in for?" (Answer: too long!)
Do ask, "Is there any technology or pop culture I can help catch you up on?"
Don't ask, "How are you going to avoid getting back into bad behaviors?" (Leave the paternalistic bullshit to their PO.)
Do ask, "How's your support network? Do you have people helping you adjust?"
Don't ask, "Do you have a job yet?" (Their PO is asking them ALL the time, don't worry.)
Do ask, "Are there any opportunities I should keep an ear out for and let you know about?"
Don't ask, "Do you have an ankle monitor?" (And definitely don't ask to see it - no one likes to be gawked at.)
Do ask, "Do you have parole restrictions we need to accommodate when making plans?"
Don't say, "Hey, you shouldn't be doing that - it's against your parole!" (A lot of parole restrictions are bullshit, and they are an adult who deserves agency, even the agency to take risks.)
Do ask, "Are there any bullshit parole restrictions you need help working around?"
Don't ask, "Are you an addict?" (Not everyone in prison is, and they'll tell you if they want you to know.)
Do say, "If there's stuff you might get in trouble for, like empty alcohol containers, I can throw them away at my place."
Don't say, "It's probably best if you put your whole prison life behind you and start fresh." (Just because it was traumatic doesn't mean important experiences and relationships didn't happen there.)
Do say, "If you have letters from friends on the inside that you don't want your PO to find, you can keep them at my place."
Don't say, "You paid your debt to society." (Regardless of what they may have done, harm cannot be repaid through senseless suffering.)
Do say, "You are more than the worst thing you've ever done."
Do not ever ask "What were you arrested for?"/"What did you do?"/"Were you guilty?"
People are more than the worst thing they've ever done.
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racew1nn3rs · 2 days
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─ 𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘦 𝘪. (𝘪'𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘸𝘯𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦) 🧶
⤷ summary: the world meets the newest mclaren team member, and they are loving it! it's poor oscars first day and shit's already hitting the fan sorry dude ): LMAO. lando just experienced love at first sight, while y/n is ready to fist fight
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liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, and 32,890 others
mclaren oscar's first day of kindergarten, done. pre-season testing, done. (we'll be even faster soon 🙏🏼 don't worry guys)
2,568 comments
user2 HELLO??? WHO HACKED THE MCLAREN ACCOUNT
user6 we'll be racing past redbull in no time
mclaren a girl can dream
user7 lando is this you??? 😭
user8 budget dropped so low they had to hire the drivers for social media
user3 this is haas money behavior
mclaren excuse you i am NOT LANDO
user8 oscar????
mclaren no sir, i'm the owner of this house 🫵
user9 idk if this is a new admin but this is so unserious
mclaren new year new me babe
user9 give her a raise mclaren 🙏🏼
mclaren REPOST REPOST REPOST
landonorris first day on the job and already asking for more money?
mclaren i'm so sorry lord lando, you forget that us lowly peasants aren't on an athelete salary 🙄
user10 HUMBLE HIM, WE LOVE TO SEE IT
user11 mclaren admin beefing with lando was NOT on my 2023 bingo card
user12 she really said, "ik we're slow but LET US COOK"
mclaren TRUUUSTTT THAT COMEBACK IS COMING (im manifesting)
oscarpiastri KINDERGARTEN??? i'm nearly 22 mate
mclaren teensy weensy baby basically
oscarpiastri your fired /:
mclaren HAHA YOU CAN'T DO THAT 🏃🏻‍♀️
user13 petition for all the f1 team accounts to be run by young admins, this is tooooo good
mclaren screenshotting this for my boss so they don't see these comments and fire me
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user14 she. looked. up. his. salary. 💀 ICON
user15 hiring her was such a rare mclaren W
user16 MCLAREN ADMIN HEAR OUR PRAYERS AND MAKE TIKTOKS 🙏🏼
user17 OMG CAN U IMAGINE
user18 HOW MUCH MONEY DO I HAVE TO PAY MS. MCLAREN FOR THIS OMG
user19 will our team win? probably not BUT AT LEAST WE'LL BE GETTING CONTENT 😘
user20 AYYYYEEEE
user21 LANDO MAY NEVER WIN, BUT THE FANS NEVER LOSE 🤞🏾
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liked by mclaren, maxfewtrell, and 60,050 others
landonorris don't mind me, just living my lord life on my athlete's salary. bahrain here we come!
10,750 comments
user22 WHERES THE MCLAREN ADMIN
user23 lando nowins flexing on us poor people
user24 someone come get this man's phone
user25 oh i KNOW pr is mad 💀💀💀
user26 daniel ricciardo leaves and mclaren loses it's mind
user27 daniel leaves and all of us lose our minds 🥲
oscarpiastri jesus christ mate, log out
mclaren i'm not sure he knows how, he might need to pay someone to /:
user28 CRAZZZYYYY
user29 THE GIRLS ARE FIGHTING
user30 "f1 is a serious sport." the serious sport in question:
user31 the papaya hat 🫵
user32 HE'S SO FINE IM GNAWING AT THE BARS
user33 BARK BARK WOOF WOOF
mclaren phones. on the table. NEOWWW
user33 holy shit this is actually so embarrassing
mclaren at least ur self aware!
user34 she clocked ur asses 😭😭😭
maxfewtrell lord lando flying economy
landonorris I AM NOT
user35 bro took that personally
user36 me thinks the man doth protest too much
danielricciardo i leave you alone for a few months and this is what you're doing
landonorris i learned from the best
danielricciardo DONT BLAME ME FOR THIS
maxverstappen1 ... that's my plane???
landonorris SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP
maxverstappen1 you can't just take credit for my private jet. its mine.
mclaren this just in, little lando norris is a little LIAR
mclaren when he steals a plane and wears bucket hats 🫵🤣 everyone point and laugh
landonorris I QUITE LIKE BUCKET HATS
mclaren i quite like bucket hats 🇬🇧☕️🤓
maxverstappen1 🫵🤣
danielricciardo 🫵🤣
charles_leclerc 🫵🤣
carlossainz55 🫵🤣
maxfewtrell 🫵🤣
oscarpiastri 🫵🤣
landonorris OSCAR????
oscarpiastri 🫵🤣 🫵🤣 🫵🤣
mclaren damn he got you there
user37 this cannot be real
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There were quite a few things Lando expected to be on his agenda when he arrived in Bahrain after him and Max went seperate ways to their own teams. He figured he would meet with his engineers, spend some time getting adjusted to working with Oscar (especially given he hadn't had very much time to meet or bond with the rookie over the break or during pre-season testing), and doing some press interviews as per usual. However no where on his list was an impromptu meeting with Zak Brown. Oscar seemed clueless as to what was going on as well, and Lydia, Lando's personal assistant of two years, was just as clueless.
Lando and Oscar filed into the board room, bottles of water in hand, only to be met face to face with their team manager. Nothing seemed suspicious which Lando hoped was a good thing, but after their underwhelming performance in pre-season testing he knew anything was a possibility.
"Have a seat guys, it's good to see you both. I hope you've been well-rested since testing," Zak greeted with his usual cheerful attitude. Lando and Oscar looked at each other warily but nodded at their boss nonetheless. Zak was usually more of a 'get to the point' kind of man, so this change of pace was unnerving to say the least. Normally it scared Lando a little bit, but truthfully, right now, Lando wanted to be done with this meeting and to get to race preparations.
"That's good, you need all the rest you can get if we're going to try and put up a fight this weekend. In all honesty, I think within the next two years we have a chance to become real competition here. I think we can give Red Bull and Ferrari a run for their money and earn plenty of points this year. Hell," the older man chuckled, "maybe we can win it all."
Lando didn't want to seem skeptical, but he was definitely skeptical. He did not think the car he was given in testing could win the championship, but he would sure as hell be trying.
"But no matter how hard the engineers work the car, and no matter how many sims we do, the one thing we're lacking in is presence. McLaren is notable, we have a famous team and a long roster of famous, successful drivers, including the two of you, but we don't have the same dominating media presence that Mercedes or Ferrari do. And that's what gets us sponsors, and celebrity visits, and fans, and funding. We may not be struggling for money, but if you guys like your multi-million dollar salaries and you want your car to keep being better, we need more media presence. Which is why we decided we wanted to go a bit of a different route this year, with media and all of that."
Oh god. Lando knew where this was going. This was about the new social media admin that had been ruthlessly harrasing him- albeit teasingly- for days now. Only employed for less than two weeks and already stirring up the pot across platforms. Lando looked at Oscar, noting that his teammate was clearly following as well now.
"I know you both have come to realize this already, but there is a new social media manager who runs all of the McLaren accounts. We wanted someone young, someone trendy, someone who knew what the internet is looking for, and who can help us connect and start getting more eyes on McLaren. We want her to meet with you guys today to share a couple of ideas so you can be on the same page for what we'll be doing online. The new manager is just outside. Let me get her so you can speak with her."
Lando nodded dumbly. Right, ok, he could do that. Lando was young, he was online, he was trendy. Plus, most of if not all of the F1 drivers had some kind of media presence already. Lando streamed, he had instagram accounts and twitter, and he even had Quadrant. Lando steeled himself. This would be just fine. An adjustment, but fine.
Zak greeted someone outside of the door and a small bit of shuffling sounds were heard. Before Lando had a chance to stand, Zak was turning and nodding a quick goodbye. Leaving the office room, as a smaller body replaced the space he had been in.
Lando felt like the air had been knocked from his lungs and hoped he hadn't made a noise out loud. He stared, he couldn't help it. He was sure he was slack-jawed, mouth agape and flies coming in. Somewhere in the back of his mind he registered that he should be professional and behave like a normal human being. But the other part of his brain, the dominant part of his brain, was in awe.
Lando looked at the girl in front of him up and down, probably far too obviously, and was stunned. He saw jean shorts, a faded and a mid-washed denim. A colorful-tighter cropped shirt and some layered gold jewelery. Rings on her fingers. Sunglasses in her hair, making her look way to cool to ever speak to him. She rocked on the balls of her sneaker-clad feet- sneakers that matched her clothes perfectly much to Lando's delight- and quickly moved to set her laptop down of the table. She left her small colorful handbag on the table alongside a cup of iced coffee that was already melting in the Bahrain heat. She looked as if she had jumped straight from a Vogue cover (or one of his favorite dreams) and landed right in front of him.
Was it the heat that was making it so hot? Because Lando was becoming suddenly aware of the heat beneath his shirt collar. A stifled cough from Oscar drew Lando from his observation- or rather his creepy, stalker staring- and Lando realized this was not the social etiquette that the situation called for.
Before Lando could even take a step, the girl smirked.
"Nice to finally meet you guys. Hello Oscar," the girl leaned over and shook the taller man's hand. "And Lord Lando, is it? It's nice to finally meet you. I'm Y/N L/N, i'm the new social media manager for the season."
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Y/N could now officially say she is not a fan of Lando Norris. The online feud she had cleverly created to generate some conversation about McLaren before the season started had been banter. She had taken no offense to Lando's jokes at all, but now that she was in front of the man and could feel his judgement, her opionions had changed.
From the second she walked in Lando had begun unabashedly staring at her. Looking her up and down, from the shoes she had recently bought to the hair clipped back on her head, and was not sparing a single detail. She felt vaguely like a mannequin on display and it unnerved her.
Oscar smiled at her politely as she set her things down, and she felt thankful for the reprieve from the judgement and critcism she had been recieving since she arrived and was now experiencing again from Lando in full force.
Y/N was aware that her outfit wasn't uniform or professional, but those were not the qualities she was hired for. Y/N had been confident coming in here, feeling like she would likely connect better with people her own age, but was thoroughly dissapointed to find this was not the case.
Oscar ultimately cleared his throat awkwardly, and it appeared as though this finally snapped Lando out of his judgemental stupor, so Y/N decided to finally make her introductions.
"Nice to finally meet you guys, hello Oscar," she leaned over and shook the taller man's hand. "And Lord Lando, is it? It's nice to finally meet you. I'm Y/N L/N, i'm the new social media manager for the season."
Lando groaned loudly and Oscar laughed.
"Lando I don't think you'll ever live this one down," and Y/N forced a laugh and nodded in agreeance.
"No, probably not. But that's good, that's what I was hoping for." Y/N stated bluntly.
"You were hoping to torture me?" Lando stuttered out and Y/N rolled her eyes, "You'll live I promise." Oscar laughed before pointing out, "at least your not a kindergartener."
Lando stifled a laugh but agreed.
"What purpose did Oscar's baby jokes serve?" Lando asked, and Y/N forced herself not to punch the man at his judgemental tone. He clearly didn't believe in her ability to do her job.
"It's funny, that was it's purpose," she stated, gesturing to the table for the boys to sit as she opened up her laptop. She turned to face toward them, lifting herself slightly so was seated criss-crossed in the chair. She never had liked sitting normally. The boys across from her stared at her expectantly.
"So you create jokes the make people look at us more?" Oscar asked.
"In a way yes. My job is to manage the accounts, but I've also been hired to help get you guys more fans. Fans love to be interacted with, they love seeing you guys joke around, they like feeling like they have content to consume," Y/N explained.
"By playing into these desires, you get more fans, because they feel they 'know you" in a way they don't know the other drivers." The boys nodded their head in understanding.
"So the plan is for me to keep interacting with fans through the McLaren accounts, playing up jokes with you too, and for us to give the fans new content in a way they don't usually get it. Livestreams, youtube vlogs, inside internet jokes, TikToks, the works." Y/N stated.
"Essentially," she said dragging the word out, "I'm going to make you guys the internet's little papaya stars," Lando laughed but nodded. Y/N, despite her first impressions and her developing dislike for the driver, found herself smiling. She could see the vision. Both Oscar and Lando would be awkward and loveable and humorous. The perfect mix for internet support.
"So where do we start?" Oscar asked.
"I'm glad you asked," Y/N smirked. "Have you heard the clip of 'Cuffing Season' by SZA? There's a TikTok trend I think will be perfect for you to do."
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user38 can we talk about how gorgeous admin is?!?!? LIKE OH MY GOD
user10 only hot people go to mclaren
user40 that check better be huge for her
user41 oscar was so mf stiff 💀💀 free my boy
user42 who had a gun to oscars head, he was so scared
user43 lando thirst trapping ICB 😭 I NEED A BIG BOYYY
user44 god admin is so sexy and smart, that was art
user45 CAN WE DISCUSS HOW LANDO LOOKS AT HER
user46 ikr 💀 get off the floor lando your drooling
user47 i want a man to be that down bad for me
user48 lando loverboy era unlocked
user49 meanwhile admin didn't look him in the face
user50 f1 2023 is going to be a WILD RIDE for us mclaren fans if this is before the first race even starts
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hope you all enjoyed! please let me know your thoughts and feel free to leave a request for me to write something for your fav <3
-
𝙩𝙖𝙜 𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩
@lemon-lav @slutforpopculture @m4rt10ne
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jasmineoolongtea · 3 days
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― i like the way you kiss me . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .
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― the ways in which they kiss you when you aren't actually together yet ₊˚⊹♡
contents: gojo x gn!reader, geto x gn!reader, nanami x gn! reader, choso x gn!reader, megumi x gn!reader, yuji x gn!reader, yuta x gn!reader, headcanons/brief drabbles, slightly suggestive for some of them if you squint a/n: just some headcanons i wanted to write after listening to i like the way you kiss me by artemas plus i needed a short writing break from my risk - megumi fic that i've been working on. hope you guys enjoy this !!!
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gojo satoru kisses you like he misses you already despite barely being apart for more than a few hours. it didn't matter to him that he just saw you moments ago. that was nothing more than a trivial fact to him, just like the fact that you two still weren't actually together yet, in the grand scheme of things. why should he be waiting any second longer to feel your touch on him? he was never good at being patient anyways.
"missing me already huh?" you murmur against his lips, his hands securing you against him as he pinned you against the brick wall of the restaurant behind you two.
he scoffs at your comment. "oh shut up." his lips are on yours again in a matter of second. you weren't going to lie, you were enjoying this. to see someone so powerful like gojo satoru yet so susceptible to your presence to the point where he couldn't wait anymore to have your lips against his. with his flushed cheeks and slightly puffy lips, you want to forever immortalise this image of him in your mind. silently, you thanked whatever was out there that he decided to forgo his sunglasses tonight as their absence allowed you to truly appreciate the beauty of his eyes, even being able to notice the tiniest specks of what appeared to be gold in his pupils.
as he tilts his head to the side to better fit his features against yours, you swear you can feel his every breath with how flushed his chest is against yours. you even earn a soft groan from him when your fingers dance across his undercut, taking your time to run your hands through his snowy locks.
you're glad that his eyes are closed right now, getting a ticklish sensation as his long eyelashes kiss the expanses of your cheeks with the slight flutter of his eyes so that he isn't able to notice how the red blush that was once contained on your face has now expanded outwards to the tip of your eyes. he bites at your bottom lip gently, as if asking for permission to go further and you grant his request with a faint gasp of your own.
"noisy, aren't we?"
"oh shut up."
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geto suguru kisses you like you're his already. the way he snakes his arms around your waist and presses his lips against yours only makes you sink further into his touch. if he wasn't holding you up right now, you would probably melt into the floor just from his proximity alone. you've been dancing around the issue for a few months now, fleeting touches in a dark room, longing glances across the room. it was all fun and games for both of you, seeing how long you could drag out this game of teasing and temptation until the other had enough. you thought you were doing pretty well. that is, until he decided to show up here again and well, just imagine the feeling of his lips against yours wasn't enough anymore.
you've always wondered what it would feel like to card your hands through his raven tresses and now, with your fingers tangled in up there, you can safely say it was better than you could have ever imagined. if it wasn't you who was the one messing up his hair, he would have some choice words to say about it, but as of right now, that was the least of his concerns. right now, his priority was seeing how long it would take for him to become consumed by his desire for you and it seemed like he wasn't going to last long. not with how you would let out a low whine every time his teeth grazed your lips or with your wandering hands taking this opportunity to explore the expanses of his well-sculpted back.
you feel like you've just had your breath stolen from you with how heavily you were panting against him, your faces flushed with want and kiss-swollen lips as evidence of what had recently transpired between the two of you. neither of you make the move to break apart as he leans down to ask.
"so what does this make us?"
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nanami kento kisses you with so much restraint it only incites you to try and break down his defences further. his kisses barely feel like pecks, leaving you to subconsciously chase him for more every time he pulls away. he doesn't dare to try and do more, to push the boundary further. not only are you not technically together yet but also he's afraid. not of you, but rather of what would happen if he let his resolve fall and indulged in his selfish desires for what would be the first time in a long while.
he stops for a moment, his face barely hovering centimetres above from yours as his eyes flicker between your slightly agape mouth and your half-lidded eyes, watching him closely as you try to anticipate his next. he couldn't tell which one was drawing him in more at that moment. his breath hitches momentarily when he feels a soft tug at his tie, your right hand absent-mindedly toying with the edges of it as you place your other hand against his chest as if attempting to brace yourself against him. he couldn't tell but your legs felt like they were about to give out at any second with how every single cell in your body felt electrified with the amount of desire and anxiety coursing through your veins.
silence dragged on for what felt like ages, both of you unmoving in your positions until you muttered under your breath. "kento..." your voice was barely above a whisper but at that moment, it turns out that he was not as strong in his resolve as he thought he was with that being all he needed to dive right into you, fully untethered this time as his lips crashed against yours.
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kamo choso kisses you like he's scared that this will be the first and last time he'll ever get to do so. there's so much fear and hesitation in his movements yet at the same time, you can feel the fervour and passion that is pouring out of him with every movement of his lips against you. his hands are hovering around your figure, scared to fully let himself hold you as if he's worried that the moment he makes contact, you're going to snap out of whatever daze you're in and run away from him. you aren't going to do that of course, if only he knew how long you were waiting for this to happen. as you feel the cold of the concrete wall against your back, the two of you part, albeit reluctantly, from each other to catch your breaths.
"..are you sure?" he asks breathlessly. his pupils are blown wide open as his eyes seemingly turn into infinite purple voids, watching your every movement unblinking.
you run your fingers across the back of his neck, toying slightly with some of the loose black strands that were clinging to his skin. he looks pretty like this, you think to yourself. he looks at you so eagerly, so soft and pliable in your hands, as he nervously awaits for your response.
"never been more sure."
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fushiguro megumi kisses you like you're the air he breathes. who would have thought someone so famously reserved like megumi had it in him like this? you aren't given long to ponder on that thought as his lips are against yours once again, moving in sync with an imaginary rhythm as you frenziedly grasp at the material of his shirt in a weak attempt to try and ground you against his closeness to you. with every slide of his lips past yours, you're pretty sure that he's simultaneously taking and giving you back your breath which you previously thought would be impossible to do but are now sorely proven wrong.
you're not even a lightweight or anything when it comes to alcohol but you're pretty sure you're drunk on the feeling of him the moment his mouth was on yours. much to your surprise, the spikes that he calls his hair are actually pretty soft as you run your hands through them, a soft tug at the hair beneath your fingers drawing out a barely disguised groan from him. you giggle softly against his lips at his reaction and he silences you with another kiss, not that you were complaining as you ardently respond by tilting your head off to the side slightly to grant him better access to your face. your eyes are closed but you can imagine the half-hearted scowl on his face with how his brows furrow in the way that they always do against your forehead.
even though it was barely minutes ago, your mind is hazy as you try to remember the circumstances that led to this situation right now. it was probably a stupid argument that you guys got into, like the two of you usually do, and somehow that resulted in him wanting to prove his point more unconventionally. you give up on trying to recall the details as you can feel your face start to burn up as one of his hands start to wander down to rest against your hips.
"so," he pants, the heat of his breath is warm against your lips. "does that prove my point?"
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itadori yuji kisses you eagerly, trying to savour every single moment of his lips against yours. you could feel the excitement basically pouring out from him with each movement of his lips against you, even eliciting a giggle from him that reverberates against your mouth as your noses bump against each other. it's a messy, disorganised sort of kiss with you being sure this is the third time you've accidentally grazed your teeth against his. fortunately for both of you, you're all way too engrossed and intoxicated on the sensation of the other's lips to care.
every time one of you tries to catch your breath, the other tries to chase your lips as they attempt to recapture that feeling again. as your arms encircle his neck, pulling you close to him, you're pretty sure you can feel him groan quietly against your lips with his hands reaching up to cup your face. with a deep sigh, you sink into his warm embrace, taking the moment to fully breathe him in like your life depended on it.
one of his hands falls from your face and gives a tentative squeeze at your waist to which you gasp quietly. taking this opportunity, he breaks apart from your lips and presses a flurry of kisses across your face which earns him a wide grin from you as you half-heartedly attempt to defend yourself from his sudden kiss attacks.
if you knew that a simple, experimental peck on the cheek could earn you this, maybe you should try to do this more.
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okkotsu yuuta kisses you like you're a dream come true. hear him out. he never thought that he would get to experience touch like this ever again in his life, nevermind it coming from you in this manner. to him, you were what sweet dreams were made of, so ethereal, so delicate and so much better than whatever could exist in such a cruel world like this. but once again, defying all his expectations, you were here right in front of him and your lips were on his, faster than in the blink of an eye.
cradling the back of your head with his hands, he leans into the feeling of your lips against his as the two of you move in sync with each other. as if the moment couldn't get better, it was as if your lips were perfectly moulded for his or vice versa. he didn't care which way it was, all this fact did was solidify the thought in his mind that you were sent down onto earth from whatever heavenly plane people like you come from just for him to bask in the presence of.
his eyes are closed for two reasons. one, because he's scared that if he opens his eyes, this will be nothing more than a dream that he has to wake up from and two because he's pretty sure that if he was able to see you in your flushed, kiss dazed glory, he would explode on the spot.
despite being able to tell how badly he's been wanting to kiss you, he doesn't let it overpower him, instead taking the upmost care to make sure that you were still unharmed, treating you as if you were some piece of delicate china that could break at the slightest of wrong moves. while it was nice, you were feeling particularly greedy in that moment. you wanted more.
right as he breaks apart for air, you're already back to pulling him closer than humanly possible at this point by the collar of his shirt and you find that you're rewarded with a soft gasp escaping from him as your lips find each other again, this time with a renewed sense of desire and want.
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akimiiyo · 2 days
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-> JEALOUSY
⌗synopsis : genshin men when they’re jealous.
⌗characters : diluc, kaeya, albedo, zhongli, childe, baizhu, xiao, thoma, ayato, heizou, wanderer, kazuha, tighnari, cyno, alhaitham, kaveh, neuvillette, lyney, dainsleif, dottore, pantalone, capitano, pierro.
⌗cw : gn!reader, not proofread, lowercase intended, probably ooc.
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he’s a gentleman, he doesn’t get jealous often because he knows for a fact that he has nothing to worry about. you’ve never done anything that made him feel as if he had to watch out and he’s certain that you never will. although he can still get annoyed at the sight of another man flirting with you. it was his insisting even after you turned him downed that angered him the most. nonetheless, he doesn’t let such people interfere with his composure. he’ll act mature and take you somewhere else once he sees that the man has no intentions of leaving you alone. as soon as you both get a moment alone together, however, he won’t hesitate to plant a few more kisses than usual. just in case, y’know?
diluc, zhongli, alhaitham, neuvillette, dainsleif, capitano.
he won’t admit it, but he gets jealous often. he doesn’t want to confront you about it because he believes it’s embarrassing and silly to feel that way. i mean, you’re his and he’s yours. you love him so much, there’s no need to worry, right? yet, he still can’t help but fume at the sight of strangers complimenting you. he can’t blame them, but he still would rather for people to be blind if that meant that they’d leave you alone. he’s aware of how unfair that would be, so he just stays quiet, either sulking or glaring at those people as you offer them a kind smile until you’re both alone where he’ll be needing your utmost attention.
xiao, albedo, thoma, kazuha, kaveh, baizhu.
he’s jealous and he’ll show it. hit on his partner? right in front of him? absolutely not. he might try to keep his calm at first, but as time passes and this scumbag is still around, he won’t hold back. not to worry, he won’t do anything extreme (unless he’s forced to do so), he just wants to make things clear to this guy. he’ll keep it simple at first, simply making subtle comments until he actually starts going straight to the point. after a while, he’ll take your arm and walk away with you, now being angrier than before. the way that guy was talking to him, but especially you, has him furious. be prepared to listen to his angry rant about that random dude. be also prepared to shut him up, you know how.
kaeya, childe, heizou, tighnari, cyno, wanderer, lyney.
this guy almost sees you as his property, his jealousy is unmatched. he won’t take anything lightly. if you’re trying to make advantages on his partner, then you’re asking for it. simple as that! he won’t let anyone think they might have a chance with you because you’re destined to be with him and only him. so obviously, he must make it clear to everybody to not even try. if someone is bold enough though, he’ll just stand beside you, piercing through this man’s soul with his icy gaze. thankfully, nothing ever escalated from that. not that he wouldn’t be capable of doing that, these poor sould simply knew better than to get against someone of that status and reputation.
ayato, dottore, pantalone, pierro.
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⌗a/n : im not really proud of this, i might edit it once i have time. it’s 4am and i was supposed to be studying, but i ended up writing this instead. talk about procrastination 😪 let me know if i made any mistakes pls
©2024 akimiiyo. do not repost, translate, plagiarise, or modify in any way, shape or form.
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shepscapades · 2 days
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7. Lincolnshire Posy: II. — Composed by Percy Grainger, Performed by the Dallas Wind Symphony
It’s been on my mind lately that I had a lot of these Spotify song requests that I finished and never got around to posting, so I’m gonna try to chip away at posting these over the next few weeks! BUT Hi Ghost :] It’s so funny this was the song you ended up getting the number for; I had actually listened to it on loop during the deepest trenches of ranchers brainrot however many months ago, so I’m really happy I ended up being able to draw something for them!! <3 This is also the part where I expose myself for being an unashamed band kid =w= Grainger’s one of my favorite composers, so I listen to his works a lot and couldn’t help associating the really soft hopeful horns with this kind of healing period for the ranchers ;w;
I probably won’t ever really go into the details of the m-1 server’s overall plot, but I think the general vibe for m-1 ranchers is that these little moments of soft sunlight and healing bones were some of the most needed for them, so that’s why scenes like this always stand out in my mind <3 Context aside though, I think m-1 ranchers are just super sweet so!! figured I’d Full-Send share this soft doodle of them :]
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usedpidemo · 3 days
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Too many nights ((G)I-dle Yuqi)
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The way you see it, even if the signs were right in front of you all along—written in bright, colorful signposts with the largest text imaginable—you’d still be hurling yourself off that cliff. 
Yuqi knows this too—you think she does.
At the very least, she looks convincing enough that she feigns innocence on the matter, and she is. It's mainly a you problem. She doesn’t know you much other than being the sweet, quiet guy who was her roommate in college and nothing else.
And that’s probably the reason why she’s standing in front of your newly minted apartment on a random Monday.
—————
You’re waiting for her to pick her bags off the floor and leave. You told her to leave three times. Threaten to call security on her. She doesn’t budge. Instead, she stares. Stubborn, obstinate, unyielding.
“Please, give me one opportunity. Please let me explain myself.” Yuqi finally breaks her silence, eyes wide, glinting with tears, pleading.
“Shoot.”
She looks down, unable to see you eye to eye, her hands running through the pockets of her skirt. “You’re right. I’ve taken your kindness for granted, and I’m sorry. I really am.” 
Pausing, you’ve never heard her sound this quiet, this personal. “I never truly appreciated you till I was home with my parents. I should have focused more on studying than going out and having fun. Now look. They’re pissed that I’m being a bum at home instead of working, so they kicked me out.”
She proves your theory to be true. She has no reason to be here unless you bail her out of trouble again.
“But I can’t find one job that I like. Working a 9-5 or any regular cashier job seems so boring, you know what I mean? Doesn’t feel like my type of thing to do,” she continues, lightly kicking the suitcases with her feet. “My friends are all busy, so I had no one to lean on. Then I remembered you! So here I am.”
At least it was nice seeing Yuqi act mature for at least three minutes before reverting to her usual spry, childlike personality. 
“Okay? Well that’s on you for being lazy, and I can’t help with that. Sorry to hear you got kicked out, but I have nothing to offer you. It was great seeing you, though. Good luck with that job.” 
You try closing the door, but she stops it with her foot. Peeking through the narrow space, you find Yuqi persistent, unrelenting. “Wait. Hear me out for a second, I said I didn’t wanna be your roommate.”
“No, Yuqi. Just go—”
“I really need you right now. I’ve already applied to like five different companies on public wifi, it’s so fucking slow and I doubt they even got my email. I just need a place to stay for like a month. Trust me, I’ll get a job and when I get paid, I’ll spend it on finding my own apartment! Just give me this one time.”
You swear you’ve never heard Yuqi this desperate, this loud. Your neighbors are probably ringing up security right now, maybe the owner too.
“Okay, okay. Just calm down for a minute, will you? Our neighbors are listening.” You open the door lightly and Yuqi’s eyes light up. You didn’t even say yes, but it might as well be a confirmation to her.
“You promise? You’re actually working on a job application?” you ask, doubtful about her claim.
“Of course.” Yuqi shows her phone, presents pdf files of multiple application letters to the very places she doesn’t want to work. Some fastfood chains, at convenience stores, and mall outlets. “None of them have replied back, so—I’m still trying to apply to more places, but I’m almost out of data on my plan and I don’t wanna spend another night inside my car. Just give me this one thing? Okay?”
Seeing the evidence firsthand, you can’t help but be impressed. If you had any spine, you’d contemplate the proposal more, give it some time to mellow out, maybe let her elaborate some terms of agreement. But in a moment of weakness, you yield right away. What’s one month of Yuqi gonna do to you?
“All right, fine. I’ll let you stay—”
“I owe you one, thank you, thank you, thank you!” Yuqi doesn’t even let you finish your sentence when she brings her suitcases into your apartment at record speed. She gives you a peck on the cheek in appreciation twice, one for each pair of suitcases she shuffles in.
You can only sigh in response before closing the door.
—————
Before Yuqi gets comfortable in her new place, you sit her down on the living room couch to discuss house rules. This isn’t like college, where you share a dorm together, split the bill and have personal spaces. While you don’t own the apartment, you make one thing very clear: she’s bound to you and whatever rules you impose on her.
“Let’s make one thing and one thing clear: you break any of my rules, you’re outta here. I don’t care if you explain yourself, you’re gone. Understood?”
“Right.” Yuqi’s trembling with excitement and impatience, nodding erratically, kicking her legs up, goading you into rushing through everything so she can lay on an actual bed. 
You take a moment to analyze her suitcases in the middle of the room. Facing her, you ask cautiously, “Tell me you didn’t bring your—”
“Yep!” She responds almost immediately, thrilled to answer your question, as if it were muscle memory. “It’s exactly what you think it is.”
And there goes your supposed rule one. Of course she brought her entire dorm room decor along. Knowing her, they’re likely encompassing two of her suitcases.
“Yeah, no. My landlord is quite strict about decor, so you can’t put them up,” you tell her bluntly; there’s no getting around his rule, even if your roles were swapped.
She frowns, visibly devastated, probably more hurt than being kicked out by her family. It’s the end of the world, but she won’t give in. If there’s even a slight possibility she can have her way, she will force herself through. “Please? Even just my room—”
“Not a chance. It’s just a general rule here, sorry.” You make sure to shut her down immediately. “I didn’t make that rule, anyway. Blame the owner.”
Yuqi acquiesces. She groans with displeasure, crossing her arms, acting bratty. No act can convince you to change your mind.
“Right. Now actual ground rules. This isn’t a dorm so you can’t just freeload as much as you want. Now I understand you're still working on that job application, so all I’m asking is just for you not to be completely messy, got it? So don’t eat my leftovers without asking, don’t go out to clubs and ask me to drive you home when you’re drunk, none of that. If you’re drunk, sleep outside the room. I don’t want to clean up vomit on the carpets.”
Surprisingly, Yuqi agrees without complaint. You’re unsure whether she’s nodding so she can settle in, or if she actually understood every single word.
“I seriously hope you’re working on that job—”
“Don’t worry! Just give me the wifi password and I’ll be set.” Yuqi can’t help but interrupt you every single time, and to her credit, it’s effective. She does seem dead set on taking this opportunity to redeem herself, and it’s a convincing act. As insufferable as she can be at times, you want to see her succeed. You want to see her win.
You jot down the wifi password on an extremely thin sheet of paper and place it on the table before her. Before walking away, you ask her, “You need me to help with your belongings? I’ll get the guest room ready while you make yourself comfort—”
“Nah, it’s fine!” Yuqi’s typing on her phone, not even shooting you a look in your direction. “I’ll get it sorted out, don’t worry! Just pretend I’m not here.”
To her credit, she does get her belongings sorted out. By evening, she moves into a cleared out storage room that’s now her designated bedroom. Words are hardly exchanged other than simple pleasantries and greetings. You ask her if she had dinner, she says yes. She doesn’t take anything from the fridge other than some water. There’s a knock on the door; she answers and comes back with a package of chinese food. She offers to share some, but you modestly decline.
You never ate together when you shared a dorm in college. She would eat her inside her bedroom or after you already cleaned up. At times, she’d come back to the dorm late and you wouldn’t see her till the following day. You share the same space but you have vastly different lives. The feeling is familiar, but the setting is new: having dinner under the low light, uncertain about your futures. 
This feels like your first day together all over again.
—————
The first night with Yuqi is a quiet affair. There’s hardly any commotion. An unusual scene. She finishes her food ahead of you then retreats into her bedroom without uttering a single word. 
When you wake up the next morning, Yuqi is already at the dining table. Browsing her laptop, coffee in hand, seemingly focused on that next job application. She doesn’t even greet you or acknowledge your existence; she’s in her own world, but in a good way. 
“Morning,” you quietly say, trying to grab her attention, but it falls on deaf ears. 
“You off to work?” she asks, preceded by a mouse click while you pour onto your mug. Her attention remains glued to the screen, paying you no heed.
“Kind of?” You take a seat opposite Yuqi’s side on the table. “I work here. Or should I say: this is my workplace.” 
“Wow. I wish I could work from home. Would be nice,” she replies between mouse clicks and keyboard taps.
You take a light sip of your coffee. “What course did you take again?” 
“Umm—” Yuqi slumps back in her chair, “I think it was medicine? I wanted to become a guitarist and have my own band, but my parents wanted me to become a doctor. And I don’t wanna ruin my handwriting, so—” 
“Don’t you have a band with your friends? The one with—”
“Yeah that dream died two years ago.” Yuqi’s eyes squint, brows furrowing, running through every word slightly faster than normal. “And I don’t wanna talk about it.”
“Not even a little—”
“No.” She faces you with a surprisingly cold glare, a sight you’ve never seen before. “They can just fuck off—those goddamn bitches.” 
You find yourself unable to move the conversation forward after her abrupt turn. It’s probably for the best; you hardly paid any attention to Yuqi’s life to be entitled to a substantial explanation. 
The rest of the hour goes by in deafening, awkward silence. Here’s Yuqi, this ball of energy whose life primarily revolves around partying and getting rowdy, calmly clicking on the touchpad and typing a few words every now and then in search of a way to fund her addiction. You can tell from her sullen expression just how deprived she is of that high—how incomplete she feels without the rush of adrenaline, ecstasy, and alcohol flowing through her veins. It’s impressive how it takes someone to hit rock bottom to turn their life around, how all this could have been avoided with a few decisions.
Still, it’s never too late for someone like her, and as long as she holds up her end of the deal, i.e. leave you for good after this, you’ll actively root for her success.
—————
“Fucking hell, dude,” sighs Yuqi, slamming the panel of her laptop hard, her fist narrowing missing the edge of the table. While you’ve made yourself comfortable at your usual workplace, a spacious office desk on the other side of the living room, you’re preoccupied scanning through numerous documents and emails your boss sent you. A look at the bottom right of the screen tells you it’s half past lunch. Then your stomach grumbles, as if the clock wasn’t enough of a reminder.
“Gonna make lunch,” you say to a vexed Yuqi, who’s stretching her legs against the table and her arms to the ceiling, body likely aching from her hunched position. “You good?”
“Yep.” Her tone perfectly toes the line between sincerity and sarcasm. “Got three rejections—no, four, actually. The last one was sent minutes ago.”
You’re not sure how to respond.
“Oof.” 
You couldn’t relate to her even if you tried. Of the two applications you sent, your current job is the one that gave you the freedom and flexibility to work from home, even if it paid less than the other. That was six months ago; finding job opportunities has become way harder, or so you’ve heard from your other unemployed peers from college.
“Finding a job sucks,” says Yuqi, stating the obvious. She finally gets up from her chair, brings her laptop back into her bedroom to charge before reemerging with a hairpin wrapped around her knuckles, tying it around her loose red hair. “So, what’s for lunch?”
“Meatloaf and eggs,” you reply, firing up the stove as you grab pans from beneath the sink. “Not sure if you’ll like it, though.”
She lifts her eyebrows, intrigued, but mostly unbothered. She’ll eat anything as long as it isn’t fast food or from the convenience store, and she doesn’t have the gall to complain, anyway, as your roommate. 
—————
“So, how’s the job hunting going?” you ask her right as the sun descends over your apartment windows. You have your schedule down to a science, finishing all intended projects and goals when neighboring buildings’ lights open. Weekdays can’t be anymore mundane and monotonous, but you get the job done, you’re paid handsomely, and you have time for your other hobbies.
Meanwhile, Yuqi looks like she doesn’t want to stare at a computer screen for a week, maybe a month. She looks worse off than she did in the morning. It’s evident in her clothes, her hair, her face: frazzled and messy. A perfect representation of her state.
“What do you think?” she replies, never sounding so heated, so frustrated. A look at her screen shows a new rejection letter, piled between several others, already read. Each one with different reasons, different ways to hurt, but with the same intent: we appreciate your interest, but we have chosen a different candidate from a very competitive pool—we don’t think you fulfill our qualifications—we’re looking for someone with more experience—we wish you the best in your future endeavors. You’ve noticed she tends to click back and forth between each letter, as if to torture herself further.
“I think you should put that laptop away. Try again tomorrow,” you tell her, closing the panel while she’s scrolling, stealing her attention. She readjusts her glasses, blinking rapidly, annoyed at your little intervention. “I’m going for a walk. You should join me.”
“And what if I don’t?” she asks, threatening to pull her laptop away from your fingers. 
“Good luck going out when I have the room key then.”
“I don’t have my running shoes,” she replies, and she’s telling the truth; she only brought one pair of slippers with her, the rest being colorful sets of boots and expensive high heels.
“Then grab some from my closet and wash up. You’ll look stupid if you go out in those silly boots.”
—————
At first, you believe she had declined the offer; you had already left the building when Yuqi caught up to you moments later, huffing and puffing from exhaustion. Hey, maybe she could have been a great track and field athlete if she put her mind to it.
You can’t help but make a little comment. “Thought you weren’t going to go out.”
That was for all the times she’d make similar remarks to you back in college. They never really bothered you; you were never a man of high morals and upstanding, but at least you had your priorities sorted out, unlike Yuqi. 
Yuqi playfully counters your rib, shooting you a disparaging stare. “Dude. I’m doing you a favor by doing this.”
“Elaborate.” You laugh.
“You never went out whenever I asked you. You always said no to parties.”
“And for good reason. Look at us now.” 
If you wanted to, you’d be harsher. You have years of dirty laundry and grievances to air out, but this is as concise and as restrained as you can express them without getting accused of attempted murder. Besides, you can’t keep a straight face the longer you look at her. She clearly stands out in a rather dreary and dull crowd, and it isn’t the red hair as bright as the sun, it's her look—or lack thereof. Your oversized hoodie, your running shoes mixed with her pajamas, the lack of bra—it’s obvious she only did the bare minimum to look decent in a public setting, and yet she fits in all of them like a glove.
“Where are we going, anyway? Can it be a bar? I hope it’s a bar.” 
The first thing she wants to look for once outside is a place to drink. Of course. It’s hardly a surprise to you or anyone at this point.
“Where’s your car anyway?” you question back. 
“I dunno. Could be in the carpark, could have been impounded. I don’t remember, and I don’t really care. It smells like dogshit, anyway, cause I’ve been living in it for the past three weeks.” 
Yuqi talks with a fine blend of fast and sardonic, evidently scarred from all her ordeals with that car. She’s never experienced living outside her glass castle until now, and it shows. She’s dragging her feet with every step following you close behind, trying to soak in the scenery around her. Street lights, joggers, buskers, friends, and partners of every sort, people that you actually know and recognize. It’s all foreign in her eyes. All she knows are strobe lights, loud music, drinks, and rowdy crowds. 
“So, like, do you just go on a walk every single day or you only do this because I’m your roommate?” she wonders, her gaze lingering at a passing woman jogger that catches her eye. Jumping to conclusions, she adds, “Are you telling me to touch grass? As if I hadn’t been doing that for weeks?”
You turn around and notice her distant stare, still fixated on that woman, ruminating the prospect of leaving you for her instead. “I don’t think getting blacked out drunk and vomiting in your car counts as touching grass.”
“How do you even know that?” Yuqi faces you, provoked by your comment, pouting. “You hardly attend parties, even when I invited you. You always turned them down.”
“Word gets around fast. I thought you already knew that.” 
If she could, she’d grab you by the throat and strangle you to death or rip you in half. It stings. She questions whether your blunt, matter-of-fact delivery makes the statement ten times more scathing. Then she wonders if she made a mistake, dressing up and going after you, when you’ll just be making her regret her life decisions like her parents did. You hardly cared back then, so why now?
“Can we just go to a bar? You’re being annoying.” Yuqi stares into the distance, intentionally averting her gaze away from you.
“If you have the money, then sure, let’s go for it.” You know she has no leverage or power; she can only afford fast food and a month’s worth of groceries and daily necessities. It pains her to make a willing decision to pass on alcohol and avoid bars and parties. She’s down horrendously, but she won’t directly confess her own fatal flaw. 
It takes everything within her not to slap you square in the face. 
And you can play this game all night long until she folds. You can stand there, argue, and debate with Yuqi till she runs out of excuses and complaints. Four years of pent up material to unload onto her, make a scene in public and turn her into an example about not wasting one’s life away. You can go further, you promise. 
Instead, you both settle down in a cafe on the other side of the park as a compromise.
The place is more suited to Yuqi’s style: lively crowd, comfortable ambience, all the caffeine and sugar as a proxy to her raging alcohol addiction. Most importantly, she won’t pay for shit. You don’t even end up drinking your own order; she does it on your behalf. You settle for a tiny cup of tap water instead. In a way, she’s acting like a needy dog, desperate for attention without concern for anything else that doesn’t involve her.
“Fucking hell, I never knew I needed this,” she echoes, sipping up the last quarter of your coffee, glancing at the menu over the counter, itching for another. She’s keen on paying from her pocket this time; she recognizes you won’t give her another freebie. “This shit tastes so good.”
You can only shake your head, not even remotely trying to hide your frustration toward her. Her obliviousness is kind of cute in a way, making her look a bit sympathetic. 
“Maybe I should just work here,” she says, her eyes moving in every direction, her attention taken by something shiny every five seconds. Plenty of action happens at night: groups entering and exiting, the pervasive scent of fresh coffee brewing in real time, and plenty of girls to ogle at. In particular, there’s a waitress with a cherry tattoo on her neck that’s captured her interest. She can’t help but point her out to you, grinning widely at her. “See that waitress? She’s kinda cute.”
“Uh-huh.” You’re not really paying attention; you’re there mainly for the free wifi and a snack, not to flirt. Luckily for you both, the waitress is preoccupied with meeting high customer demands to notice. “Good idea, maybe you should apply here.”
The longer you stay inside the cafe premises, the more Yuqi becomes less inclined to leave. You end up having dinner, a couple of ham and cheese sandwiches from the snack menu. On her end, four cups of coffee strewn on the table, all drank by her. If this was some ploy to make you pay for free drinks, it worked to a tee. Anything to avoid engaging you in a serious conversation.
The opportunity never presents itself. Soon, the cafe becomes dimmer and muted. Staff are closing off sections, clearing trays, and cleaning up empty tables. Since you entered the cafe, she has not made a move on the waitress at all, even when you’ve tried pushing her over the cliff numerous times. Her shift is close to done, ready to check out for the day. One more opening. Still, Yuqi watches her intently, but can’t find the strength to stand, let alone pull the trigger.
“Well? I thought you were gonna ask her out or something.” You take a look around and come to a grim realization: that you’re the only two customers left.
“I—I don’t think I wanna do it now.” Yuqi turns around, playfully grinning, but rushing through her words. “Maybe when I get the job here. Maybe.”
You can only react in quiet disbelief to how this was all just a huge waste of time—and money.
“Fucking—” you sputter before masking the rest of your response, groaning as you rise from your seat, leaving.
After two days, your main observation is that Yuqi hasn’t changed much. If at all.
—————
The rest of the week follows a similar structure. It’s comforting; it’s the kind of monotony you’ve acquainted yourself in ever since having your own apartment. Yuqi’s always up before you, an hour in advance, she’ll tell you. At her usual spot around the dining table, on her laptop, coffee in hand. You stop asking for updates after the third day; you’re certain she’ll figure things out. Your mindfulness and curiosity get the better of you, peeking through the screen on occasion, only to find the same thing. One rejection after another, mixed in with a new application letter in between. From the outside looking in, it’s as if some divine force doesn’t want her to get that job.
In the evenings, you go for your usual walks. Yuqi joins you out of the apartment building, but instead of following, she separates and heads the other way. She’s wearing her own earphones and your hoodie, something she’ll end up keeping. The few times you run across each other, she's holding some drink in her hand, usually the coffee from the cafe you spent time with her in, her hoodie pooling with sweat all over. No pleasantries, you mind your own business till you return home.
It isn’t until two weeks after she’s moved in that you extend an invitation: a visit to a newly opened lounge on the other side of town. You preface the invite saying you only knew about the place because it had opened a month ago, and had mostly forgotten about it until you remembered her. She’s doing well for herself, so you might as well reward her for her efforts, even if it hasn’t gone anywhere. And it isn’t Yuqi without asking for some kind of favor; in this case, taking a ride in your car because hers has been impounded by the police. You’re not even surprised that she’s too lazy to reclaim it herself.
Your friend says the lounge is newly opened, but once inside, you’re uncertain about her claim. Whether it's by design or her being a complete liar, grimy, poorly lit, in the vein of all those underground clubs you had seen in action movies where a shootout or police raid occurs. Simply put, there isn’t anywhere pretty to look at, and you feel icky just by being here.
To Yuqi, it’s a fantasyland: it’s where she’s meant to be all along. She’s so overjoyed to be there. 
“It’s you!” calls a familiar voice; you turn and find a friendly face over the counter waving to you. You quietly leave Yuqi to herself and approach the bartender, who just so happens to be the owner. “I never thought you’d come and visit! It’s great to see you.”
“Only doing this for a friend, Minnie,” you silently tell her, pointing your finger at your invited guest, the sole reason you’d ever be here. She recognizes her immediately and understands.
“Yuqi, huh?” She looks intrigued, her gaze lingering at the girl. A subtle grin is forming on her face. “Never thought the two of you would be an item like that, considering she’s a party animal and you’re—”
“No—no—don’t get it twisted,” you interrupt, frantically trying to clear up any presumption. There’s no chance in hell you will ever find yourself attached to Yuqi romantically, not even a little. “It’s—a long story.”
“Do tell.” Minnie smirks, teasing, alluring. She looks the part of a bar owner, all right; dark eyelashes and shadowy lipstick matching her pitch black hair. Not to mention her slim dress perfectly hugging her tight frame, showing enough cleavage to draw attention. As a friendly gesture, she gives you a wine glass and pours a drink on it. “We’ve got all the time in the world and all the drinks you need. All in house since you’re a friend.”
So you oblige yourself to a tiny sip. The place is surprisingly quiet and empty, even though it’s the weekend, with lo-fi music playing through the speakers as the only form of background noise. Minnie doesn’t have much on her plate. She can lean on the desk and listen to you all night long.
“So, two weeks ago, Yuqi moved into my place trying to look for a job,” you tell Minnie before taking another sip. Both of you take quick glances at Yuqi, seemingly having the time of her life, scaring off the sole patron by the billiards table. “And I was wondering if you can get her a job here. She’s been rejected from every company she applied for. I know she doesn’t want to work a nine-to-five, and I suddenly remembered this place.”
Minnie raises a curious eyebrow, brushing small strands of hair covering her ear. “I see.” Looking past you, she notices Yuqi, now at the karaoke, amused by her voice and energy. You follow along and watch too, wincing at her talent, caught completely by surprise. You can feel the passion and emotion from her rather honeyed, deep singing voice, as well as her natural charisma while performing. 
“Damn. She sounds really good. Borderline natural at it.” Minnie’s in awe of Yuqi’s abilities, the sort of reaction that pushes buttons, steals the show. “Wasn’t she in a band? I know she played guitar.”
“She said it doesn’t exist anymore, won’t tell me what happened.” 
Even in the midst of conversation, Yuqi’s voice manages to snatch away your focus. She’s an extremely powerful singer—a natural, as Minnie said. Her voice is overpowering the background music with little difficulty. There’s little need to watch when her vocals can easily capture your attention all the same. 
Facing you again, Minnie replies, clasping her hands together, “How about she perform by herself?” she suggests. 
You meet her eye to eye at the drop of the notion, curious.
“What do you mean?” You take another sip.
“We have an open mic night next weekend, and we could use talent to liven up the place. She sounds perfect for that kind of gig. Who knows? Maybe she can be a resident singer if the cards are right.” Minnie smiles through every word, recognizing Yuqi’s talent and the untapped potential she has. All she needs is a platform to showcase her skill properly. And taking another glance at her, you see that too. She has the passion and the vocals to croon a live audience.
“I’ll tell her,” you say, turning to Minnie again. Yuqi has finished performing and is on her way over to the bar. Your conversation breaks off as the two women greet each other with an exchange of kisses on the cheek. 
“Great place you got here girl,” Yuqi tells Minnie, beaming from ear to ear. “I’ll be popping by often if you don’t mind.”
“Thanks. I could use some company on the weekdays, if I’m being honest.” Minnie hands Yuqi her own wine-filled glass, as well as a complimentary bottle. She makes sure not to “Take it, it’s on the house.”
“God, this is why I love you so fucking much.” Yuqi drinks up the whole glass in one swig, and immediately pours some from the complimentary bottle. Minnie can’t help but shake her head with a little smile, knowing this is still the same Yuqi she’s acquainted with since college. A rose-tinted view of days gone by. 
The two women spend the rest of the time catching up. With how much they talk, it would be a safe assumption to think that these are two long lost friends who haven’t spoken in years. Then the conversation goes on and on, revealing more details than you should probably know: exchanged  private messages as recent as last night, Yuqi’s intentions to visit the lounge sooner before present circumstances got in the way, and how she ended up in your apartment. As a listener and side character in her story, it’s a part you quite frankly never wanted, let alone be involved in under any capacity. You make sure to add your point of view in the narrative and clear every question. Whenever you chime in, they laugh heartily. It’s a mess, and they’re unapologetically quirky, never failing to make fun of you at times.
Despite everything, the topic is never brought up: the upcoming open mic night, her performance, her natural talent. You were planning to shoehorn the idea, but one too many drinks later, the conversation and opportunity eventually slips away. Again. 
Yuqi can hardly stand on her own two feet when she finally decides it's time to leave. It’s two in the morning when you guide her back to your car, with her drunk out of her mind and slipping into unconsciousness. Minnie assists you, making it even more embarrassing. Even when she’s so inebriated that she can barely move a muscle, she says she wants another round, slipping back into her old ways.
You escort Yuqi back to your apartment, setting her down on her bed and promising yourself that you’ll tell her about Minnie’s offer when she’s sober in the morning. 
Except it’s the one fucking day in the month where your job calls you into an actual office for a meeting. Despite that, Yuqi is not at her usual spot in the living room the next morning (unsurprisingly), so you leave food on the table for when she eventually wakes up.
—————
Returning late in the afternoon, you find a note from Yuqi on the outside door of your apartment, stamped by strawberry lipstick, simply reading:
> Not gonna be around till tomorrow. Have something urgent to attend to - XOXO, song yuqi
Sure enough, one brief tour of the apartment and Yuqi is nowhere to be seen. Her room remains untouched: the same, colorful space it’s always been, with most of her clothes and belongings still strewn everywhere on the floor. You don’t even mind the stickers and posters plastered all over the walls; she was gonna break that rule regardless. Typical, but expected. At least you know she hasn’t completely left yet.
Deep down, it’s the first time in a while that your apartment feels a lot smaller—and lonelier. It’s not that you have any sentimental attachment to Yuqi—not in the slightest—but her presence clearly livens up the place. The difference without her around is night and day. Even when your interactions are limited to a minimum, the brief moments you interact make living by yourself a bit more tolerable. 
So you preoccupy your mind with your usual schedule: a walk in the park, then dinner by yourself. But these intrusive thoughts grow worse and worse. You’re not in your pajamas at the usual hour, her absence is keeping you up at night, and waiting for her to walk through that door is about as brutal as federal punishment.
You end up driving to Minnie’s bar, inquiring about Yuqi’s whereabouts. She says she hasn’t been around, and she hasn’t exchanged messages with her since last night. Then she asks about open mic night; you tell her about the inconvenience, about the note on your door, which is why you’re there. Good effort, but she ultimately gives you nothing.
“You should stay here a while, who knows? I can message Yuqi you’ve been looking for her,” says Minnie, her smile as welcoming as it’s ever been. “Why not have a drink in the meantime?”
“Hmm.” You entertain the thought, but she promised to return tomorrow, and perhaps you’re overthinking it; you just have to let it play out. “No thanks.” As a distraction you’re watching another girl at the karaoke machine. She has distinctively pink hair, has similar energy and passion for singing, except her voice is much higher, more nasally. All she does is remind you of Yuqi, but she’s nowhere close—in appearance and in ability. “She promised to be back tomorrow. Maybe I should take her word for it and go home.”
A pour of wine on the glass is followed by her siren-like whisper. With her hand caressing your shoulder, she mutters, “So—you like her. You like Song Yuqi.”
You raise an eyebrow, taken aback by her statement. Facing Minnie, you reply, “What? No way. I don’t like Yuqi at all. I’m just concerned she might have disappeared, that’s all.”
“Cap.” Minnie smirks, murmurs to your other ear. “You like her. Actually, you love her. You just won’t admit it.”
“And what makes you say that?” 
“The fact you look so distressed wondering where she is. I mean—just look at you.” Her voice is slow, delicate, each word delivered with profound emphasis. She flickers a lighter, then directs the cigarette in her mouth for a puff. “Would someone who doesn’t like her worry like this?”
“I mean—I’m just trying to help her get back on her feet,” you tell her, and Minnie can only chuckle in response. Puff more smoke. In her eyes, you’re not doing yourself any favors. Your words have no weight to them. It’s the same old same old most women like her hear dozens of times. I’m not into her, says the guy who’s showing an alarming level of concern towards said girl. Something she’s all too familiar with. “You know? Just looking out for a friend, that kinda thing.”
Minnie wishes she can hold up a mirror against you now to prove her point. In a place meant for everyone to relax and ease themselves, you look tumid, on the verge of a historical crash out. She smirks into her next smoke, shaking her head, scrolling through her phone. “Sure. I believe you,” she remarks, and there’s no effort made to hide the sarcasm in any capacity.
That piece of cigar looks quite appealing right now. She sells smoking like she sells the off shoulder dress draping her defined figure: exceptionally well, like she’s meant for it.
Later in the night—you’re unsure whether it’s still today or tomorrow—Minnie suddenly approaches you with a shift in enthusiasm, as seen through her grin: “You should probably head home. Unless you want to stay the night waiting for someone who won’t be here in the morning.”
“She’s back already?” You manage to decipher the hint right away.
She nods, can’t help herself from beaming continuously. No effort to lie or maintain the mystery further. “I guess you’re not as stupid as I thought you’d be.”
Running up the stairs in a hurry, you respond to her little jab with a shout, “And you owe me one for that. Actually—no, I owe you one!” 
Unknowingly, Yuqi’s little mannerisms are starting to reflect in you, too.
Sure enough, you’re home within a matter of minutes. Empty streets, dead nightlife on a weekday, the loudest thing heard for miles is the roar of your car’s engine and the elevator headed up to your apartment floor. Any other time you’d burst through that door like an officer with an arrest warrant, but it’s almost three in the morning, and the last thing you want to be is apprehended yourself after a noise complaint. 
The place remains as unchanged as you had left it: completely dark, save for one light over the kitchen. It’s quiet, eerily silent—until you hear airy, soft noises in the distance. Room by room, you carefully inspect where the sound is coming from, only to find nothing at all. 
There’s only one place left to check, and it happens to be the Yuqi’s bedroom. A room you remember being empty. As you approach the sole unopened door, you notice the faint sound growing in pitch. Hushed words from a familiar tone.
“Fuck—oh fuck—”
You press an ear against the door frame. She sounds clearer.  Way more explicit. Vivid.
“So—so—good—fuck yes—”
There’s a subtle creaking sound that accompanies her singsong tone almost perfectly. Nothing is left open for interpretation; Yuqi is feeling herself. Feeling a satisfaction that only comes from something slick, something rough, something good. 
As much as you want to respect her space, her moment in the dark, you can’t help yourself. She sounds so good, so gratifying to the ears, it’s making you a little hot and flustered, much to your own guilt and shame. You don’t care about the consequences; you’ll allow yourself one little look then pretend it never happened. At best, she’s too preoccupied with her own bliss to notice, and at worst, it’ll be one awkward conversation starter in the morning.
“Oh, oh God—you feel really good baby—just like that—”
It’s as if she’s reading your mind, understanding your intentions. The way she moans your name like an invitation—something you never thought you would hear or even consider—how it’s naturally delivered from her sweet, intoxicating voice. You’re doing yourself a disservice by listening through the door.
There’s no better opportunity than now.
With your heart racing against your chest, every nerve in your muscles tense up as it desperately opens the door, slowly and as quietly as humanly possible. Miraculously, you go completely unnoticed. Even as light from the living room slowly penetrates through Yuqi’s bedroom, it fails to cover what really matters: the bed and Yuqi herself. 
Nevertheless, the sight that welcomes you is one to behold, one worth looking at with complete awe.
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Yuqi’s body is splayed out on the bed. Her legs are spread wide, a couple of her fingers aggressively rubbing against her exposed clit, and there’s a glossy sheen coating the sheets before her soaking wet core. Her clothes are, unsurprisingly, scattered all over the floor, along with a pair of consumed alcohol bottles. She’s completely bare for your eyes to see. Nothing is left to your imagination. More importantly, she looks so fucking hot. Your heart is racing like never before, and the scene has your pants in a twist.
Her other hand runs up and down her lithe frame, then squeezes her own breast. She lets out this sharp mewl, grinding her hips against air. Her jaw slacks wide. Her eyes shut tight. Her back arches. Waves of self-induced pleasure send shockwaves through every fiber of her being, her moans growing more and more erratic.
“Fucking give it to me—I love this cock so fucking much—”
It’s about as pornographic and explicit as it gets. It riles you up in an uncomfortable way; you end up unzipping your pants to free your growing erection, but nothing happens beyond that. It feels wrong. It is wrong, but you can’t muster up the strength to look away, let alone walk away. You want to see how it ends. How she cums.
She wraps a hand around her own throat, while her knees are planted upright with her feet firmly gripped on the sheets. There's a noticeable tone change in her whines, as if simulating the act. Yet, the words flow from her lips seamlessly. “I’m so close—so, so close—”
The cackle she makes after is mortifying. Here’s this girl, who you had zero attraction prior to tonight, shamelessly declaring how she’s going to cum, how good your cock feels inside her—without either of the two even happening to begin with. The fact she likes you is the least shocking revelation in itself. A reminder: you only had three meaningful conversations with her since she moved in—two if you consider how blackout drunk she was the night before, and even if you go all the way back to your college days, you can count them with your fingers alone.
“Fucking—cumming—oh my God—”
Yuqi strains her knees and loosens her grip on the sheets as she lets the pleasure wash over. Clear liquid gushes past her throbbing, relentless fingers and spills onto the linen. A guttural, deep moan fills the bedroom as she slumps her body flat on the mattress, her energy completely depleted, her thoughts filled with nothing but orgasmic bliss. Her coated hands rest on her bare waist, her tummy, leaving viscous sheen on her creamy pale skin.
When she isn’t screaming your name or touching herself to the thought of you, Yuqi, at her barest, looks so gorgeous like this. Flaws and all.
Albeit brief, it’s quite the show to more than satisfy your thirst for her. You remember your uninvited presence in this room and where you stand in this relationship. That she’s only a tenant—an acquaintance at best—and nothing more. Any other person and situation would already send you damning to hell. 
So you quietly leave, gather your bearings, hoping her haze doesn’t clear before she is made aware of your presence, but you hear a faint whisper right as you close the door, clearer than any whine of pleasure:
“Hey.”
Part of you wants to ignore her, pretend this is all a huge misunderstanding and feign ignorance. Then you hear her soft, alluring voice calling your name and it’s what ultimately folds you:
“W-what time is it?”
Again, you consider the choice of entertaining her question or leaving her dry. She’ll probably fall asleep shortly after and forget these few moments. You tell her it’s three in the morning, hoping she dozes off.
She doesn’t.
“Shit. Can you come inside? I mean—come in.”
She’s still thinking about you, and it’s admittedly cute. You love how unabashedly blunt—and lewd—she is when she’s drunk. You give her the benefit of the doubt and reenter the room.
Yuqi realizes the messy state she and her bedroom are in when you turn on the lights. Cheeks puffed and red from embarrassment, she tries to hop off the mattress, only to stumble to the floor on her fours. 
“I’m so, so, sorry. I didn’t think you’d—” 
“Hey hey, it’s fine.” You grab her off the floor and sit her on the bed. “Don’t apologize. I’ll get some water; stay here and rest.”
Your eyes are meeting, hers twinkling. In those few, crucial moments, right when you’re about to leave, you feel an irresistible tug pulling you closer to each other.
Suddenly, Yuqi pulls you in by the shirt for a deep, passionate kiss. Her lips taste like actual whisky and vodka, indicating what she drank earlier that night. Yet they feel so lush, so sweet, filled with so much passion. You don’t bother trying; you fold to your lust, submit to her desire. You sink onto the bed together, never breaking apart, even for a second. Next thing you know, her hands are all over your body, roaming your chest, coiled around your neck, removing the shirt over your head to be tossed aside and completely forgotten.
Yet there’s still some resistance. Despite making the first move, she pulls back, and you do so in return. You’re hovering on top of her—an unexpected but welcome position to be in. 
“I didn’t know what got me there. I’m sorry. I just felt this sudden need to kiss you and—”
You shut her up by diving in and kissing her again, pinning Yuqi down to the mattress—the very thing that got you into this position to begin with. With you all over her, she’s able to shed the rest of your clothes: first the slacks, followed by your boxers. She mewls at the sensation of your hard cock pressed against her slit, and it’s beyond what her imagination can describe. It’s electrifying. And God, you know you’re no better than her, but you just want to fuck her right then and there, give her everything she wants without a second thought. 
Grabbing you by the scalp, she rips your lips off her chin as you’re making your way down her neck. “Not yet. Nuh uh.” She pulls you into yet another kiss, as if you’re oxygen—and in a way, it’s appropriate: you’re breathing new life into her. “Did I ever tell you that you were a good kisser?”
“Not at all,” you tell her, gently shaking your head. “You’re not half bad yourself.”
“Half bad?” Yuqi raises a sharp eyebrow, seemingly offended by your backhanded compliment. A dangerous smirk forms on her lips. “Says the one who was watching me the entire time—”
“You knew?” There’s a heightened sense of panic in your voice. “I thought  you were—”
“Shhh.” She kisses you, pulls you into a warm cuddle atop her. Slender legs wrapped around your hips, she follows: “Less talk, more lovemaking.”
And more lovemaking you do. You grow more easily acquainted with her lips than with her personality, and you barely know them: it’s only been a few minutes. Even though it’s a Thursday, the weekend feels like a lifetime away. You should be up five hours from now; you have the alarm preset and everything. But Yuqi’s getting in your way again, as she always has, and this won’t certainly be the last. She’s so hypnotic, so alluring, you find yourself unable to slip away, no matter how hard you try.
You find that it’s easier to give in than to struggle aimlessly. 
It’s effortless to get your fingers pressed inside her sopping core, brushing along sensitive, wet ridges of skin, where thoughts of you manifested into thin, delicate strokes. Her moans ring against your ears in varying pitches, each with a distinct, pulsing plea of satisfaction. Keep going, she tells you, and you follow without complaint. All this while you leave a soft path of bite marks down her neck and collarbones, until you reach her petite chest.
And fuck, you just go down on Yuqi. Sucking on her breasts like you’re in the middle of an oasis in the desert. She goes wild. Tossing, turning, trembling. You can feel her body close on you, wanting to take you in and suffocate you. The bed is creaking, growing strikingly more intense, turbulent. All this spurring you on, making you more reckless, more daring with her. 
“Mmmmm—fuck!” She lets out a hum of desperation, her hot, shaky breath fogging on your skin. You become an intertwined labyrinth of limbs that fit together, where you have no idea where it begins and where it ends. Your fingers vanish between her legs, still working tirelessly, perfectly snug around her pussy even when crushed between the weight of her thighs.
Eventually, you find yourself staring aimlessly at Yuqi. She’s so beautiful, and you’re punching yourself mentally, wondering why it took so long to come to this conclusion. Even when she’s not rocking the trendy hair color of the week and her face is a canvas for every conceivable makeup and filter, she’s naturally pretty. Especially now, completely bare—and with nothing but an exasperated, satisfied look of inebriated, lust filled bliss.
You find the light peeking from the living room, casting a shadow between your tangled legs. She’s dripping at her core, showering your fingers with a fresh flow of sheen, messing up the sheets even further if that’s even possible. They’re beyond saving at this point, and so are you. 
Rolling to her side, Yuqi wraps her arm around you, as if enticing you to stay. You shouldn’t have done this, but it’s too late: there’s no going back. You’re too lazy to close the door, and you have the girl you previously never gave a second look rubbing lazy circles on your stomach with her coated nails. Her hair draped all over your arm and shoulder, her eyes looking up at yours, acting all soft and innocent—
Until she starts talking again. “It wouldn’t be complete unless you cum inside me, wouldn’t it?”
The difference between her body language and her lips is night and day. Right then and there, you immediately recognize that there’s no other way this night will end. How your body moves at her will, how you immediately roll on top of her, as if it’s programmed to follow her every command. You have her legs pressed up and spread wide, her knees bent, lining your aching cock against the wet slit of her cunt. All while her features twist into a sickening, slimy grin in the slim shape of a lip bite. The fire, the desire—it’s still as bright as ever. 
And to make sure you aren’t second guessing the idea, her arms are coiled around your neck, her hands grabbing at your hair, pressing on your nape. Yuqi wants you—needs you—to fuck her silly; it’s the only way she can be satiated.
You watch Yuqi’s expression contort from anxious to messy, and the feeling is mutual. You slip in, slow and delicate, going against her instruction, and you almost lose it at the first stroke. The deep, guttural moan you make echoes throughout the entire apartment, while her firm walls pulse against your cock. It’s hot, it’s tense, it’s suffocating. 
“Shit, shit, shit—” you mutter, gently trying to pull back, but the fiery sensation burns, scratches away at your psyche, at your loins. “So—fucking—tight—Yuqi—fuck.”
“C’mon. Fuck me. Fuck me now.” She kisses your ear, her legs pounding against your hips, demanding you to move. There’s some serious intent behind her tone, a seamless blend of demand and impatience. “Use that big cock—mmm!”
You can only groan in response as you thrust back in deep, her grip on your body tighter than ever. And it’s more than just her cunt; she’s clinging onto you for dear life.
It hardly matters when you’re leaving sore, red marks on her skin or ripping through the blankets. It hardly matters when Yuqi can barely breathe. It hardly matters when you’re so loud that everyone can hear you. What’s important is you’re fucking her—and you’re fucking her hard. You both love the filthiness to it. There’s no rhythm, no pace, no flow; it’s one slow deep thrust, followed by a fast pump into her tight, inviting cunt. You become comfortable; you take her like she’s meant to be used.
And Yuqi takes your cock so fucking well. Bounces against every stroke with ease, as if the feeling is second nature to her. Knowing her, she’s probably been in this position more than you’d want to know or hear. You don’t really care about that for now. Even after what seems to be an endless cascade of orgasms, she’s still keening, still needy, still soaking wet that it’s alarming. Her back arches, melts deep into the cushion. She still wants more.
“So—fucking—good—more—need—fuck—”
The only noise you need is the mesh of your flesh slapping against hers, bouncing against her sharp cries of pain and pleasure. Reaching into the deepest, most sensitive parts of her pussy with your cock, this violent shudder rocks both you and Yuqi to your core. With each drag, more of her slick coats your shaft, and the easier you get access to her smothering heat. You can’t find the will to stop, not that you ever want to; she feels so warm, so inviting, so sloppy sounding to the ears that it’s driving you just as crazy as her.
It’s also driving you wild why it took you this long to fuck her—use her—like this. If you had known, you would have cared sooner. You’d have some leverage when it came to negotiations. A body like hers is too good not to have on speed dial.
Right now, it’s the least of your concerns. Not when you’re pounding a tight body like Yuqi’s so freely, hearing her demand to fuck her harder, like your life’s depending on it. Better late than never.
And it’s for the best that the moment happens later rather than sooner. She cums. Cums again. Eventually you’ve stopped counting, because there’s no point. The mere thought of you restarts the cycle, and your touch accelerates the process. The clutch of her cunt is too overwhelming to avoid at this point; it’s all but directly telling you to fill her, to unload all that pent up tension and need into her. The thought never bubbled up in your head even once; the idea of you and Yuqi with a child together. You never really questioned it. She goes out often, probably gets fucked multiple times in one night if she’s with willing company. She probably knew you’d walk in on her; hell, she’s probably got this whole thing planned out and Minnie is one of her accomplices. Maybe the entire time, she’s been yearning for you, because you’ve never heard her this passionate, this loud, this filthy in your life, even at her most inebriated.
“Inside me. Please cum inside me. I’m safe, don’t worry,” she whispers, as if she’s reading through your mind, reassuring you from your doubts. Her hand is palming your back, as if to line you straight so your cock directly hits her sweet spot. She sounds so pretty, it’s almost impossible to resist.
“Gonna cum,” you tell her, voice going hoarse, rasp, and she nods immediately in return, reinforcing the notion. She’s focused her effort on holding on, her legs tightly wrapped around your waist, her arms coiled around your neck, subtly pushing you against her hips. 
“This—pussy—so—fucking—God,” you mindlessly utter, averting her doe eyed gaze, desperate to cling to the last of your resolve as it quickly dissolves with each thrust. You’re on borrowed time and it’s quickly slipping away. Yuqi is tilting your face down to her, to her airy breaths, to her fluttering eyelids, to her passionate expression as you fuck her, pushing you over the edge. “Holy fuck, Yuqi—”
Yuqi’s lips part like a flower in bloom, and it’s a pretty sight. Yet it’s not enough of a distraction to keep everything from falling into place.
And God, it fucking burns. 
You swallow hard, but are unable to keep that groan suppressed. Your hips meet her halfway, your cock comfortably buried deep in her heat, and that’s where you come undone. Yuqi digs deep into your skin as it fills her—your cum—and she goes frozen at that moment. It’s a quiet, tense flash of silence. Afterward, she finally breaks. Cries out this deafening whine, her grip all over you loosening, time eventually catching up to her. 
She lays beneath you, completely limp, but her body remains trembling, shaking, seizing. You don’t find the strength to drag your cock from her heat; the feeling lingers. Endless ropes of cum gushing into her womb, emptying yourself, just as she wanted. Then you pull out, agonizingly slow, and more viscous slick gushes from her core. 
You feel guilty for that poor patch of soaked linen between her legs. It’s about as ruined as a collapsed power plant.
There’s little need for Yuqi to beg you to stay. The climax saps whatever energy you had left. You end up slumping flat on your belly beside her, both of you bathed in the afterglow of sex, exhausted from an already long day, too worn out to make another sound. And when you’re tired, any bed, no matter how messy it may be, is a comfortable bed.
—————
You already expected the scene at the breakfast table to be awkward.
And it was.
It isn’t until Yuqi calls you out standing at the doorway of her room that you realize you’ve been shooting a thousand yard stare the whole time. She waves at you, her cheeks red, flustered, chuckling. “Good morning to you, I guess. Put something on. I don’t wanna drink coffee while looking at someone’s dick. It’s gross.”
This time you’re the one unbecoming, completely in the nude while she got herself into some pajamas. Despite that, you hardly feel any guilt or shame, like this is a normal occurrence in the household. So you scramble to your room and get appropriately dressed. A look at the time and it’s already 15 past ten in the morning, an hour later than when you normally start work. Even more unusual is the absence of the laptop. It’s just Yuqi and her coffee.
Sitting opposite Yuqi, today seems a bit more tense than normal, and you can guess the reason why. She knows it, too. Neither of you are willing to break the ice, only shooting occasional glares at each other while sipping on coffee and scrolling through your phones.
“So, Yuqi.”
The words slip from your mouth, accidental, nearly silent. They follow the mild screech of the chair she sits on. When you meet eye to eye, she asks what’s up. What's on your mind? There’s a sudden barrier in your throat. You have a vague idea of what to say, but not the power to speak them. 
“About last night—”
Her lack of response is unnerving. The visible curiosity, the probable apathy. You and her possibly sharing the same sentiment: a feeling of regret. 
“I—I just wanted to say sorry. For last night. I should have just—”
“Sorry for what?”
You suddenly stop. This is not the expected reaction; it’s the complete opposite. A moment where you face the consequences of your actions.
Yuqi stands up and walks over to your side, beaming from ear to ear. “What we did last night was—fucking amazing. Don’t feel bad. If anything, I should feel bad because I didn’t tip you off sooner. We could have done so much more.”
You don’t pick up on the implication right away. It’s all strange, uncharted territory. Your previous flings were simple one-and-dones: a night of reckless, frivolous fun. Short, but fun nonetheless. They would disappear in the morning, never to be seen again.
“I didn’t think you’d walk through that door, especially since it was three in the morning,” says Yuqi, casual, running her fingers through your hair. “I got a bit too silly, as usual, but there’s a good reason for it.”
“And that is?”
“I got a job!” Yuqi’s gripping to your shoulder, the only thing keeping her from jumping for joy. “I got a job at the cafe with the pretty lady. I start on Monday.”
It’s certainly a cause for celebration. You can’t help but root and smile for her, caressing her hands. “Well, damn. Congratulations.”
“Yeah!” Yuqi’s wrapped you in a rather heartwarming embrace that you willingly fold into. “I had the interview yesterday, so I needed to lock in. Needed to be alone. Then I got accepted after, so I went and bought some drinks to celebrate.”
That doesn’t surprise you one bit. You’re just thrilled that she’s finally getting somewhere.
“So—does that mean I can kick you out once you get your first paycheck?” you ask her.
“I guess so. But—” Yuqi pauses, tilts your chin on an incline. She’s warm, radiant, pretty. She doesn’t care that you’ve worded yourself poorly and you’re taking it back; she’s still riding off the high from yesterday. You’re already counting the days before she leaves, and admittedly, you’ll miss that sight. “I’m gonna miss staying with you. Thanks for having my back when I needed it. I honestly don’t know how I will ever repay you.”
She tops it up with a quick peck on your lips. It’s all over your face, etched completely in red. The devilish grin. 
“I think I know exactly how.”
And that’s all that needed to be said.
Before you know it, you’re right back at square one: clothes scattered everywhere on the floor, her body pressed on the mattress, flat on her belly, your cock stretching her pussy out as you fuck her mindlessly from behind. This time in the comfort of your own bedroom.
All the more reason for you two to stay together.
—————
(A/N: fucksorryforgoingonanotherhiatusfuckfuckfuck—)
(Okay, but I really do wanna apologize for going on yet another unannounced hiatus. Final weeks of the semester were hell, then I was on vacation the week I promised this fic would be released (I'm basically the LeBron James of K-smut when it comes to lying at this point), not to mention a health scare courtesy of my mother. Some very hard times have hit me lately, so my mind wasn't 100%. Nevertheless, I am still standing (shoutout Elton John). Lots of free time throughout June and July, so hopefully nothing bad happens ISTG lemme have some peace for once and let me fucking write goddammit—)
(In non-personal news, Yuqi's solo was very fun and she's getting on that Yena level of bias where she's the perfect blend of cute and hot. Then she went pink recently and that made me :pphurt: Sort of a feel out fic before I *finally* finish these commissions over the coming weeks, thank you for reading!)
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celestie0 · 2 days
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I actually kinda like the accidental pregnancy trope idk just two characters learning to coparent and then eventually falling in love is kinda cute 🥹 I’d love to see what you write for gojo I feel like he’d be scared but end being such an amazing dad
gojo x reader | accidental pregnancy trope [drabble]
little miracle. a gojo x reader story
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a/n. ok anon i basically started answering this ask very minimally but i couldn't stop myself from writing and it basically became an entire story so enjoy i guess?? LOL my bad <3 warnings/tags. domestic fluff, angst, mentions of sick parent, mentions of death, pregnancy symptoms. there is happy ending!! word count. 2.2k
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gojo and you are in your mid twenties but you're both just barely getting by, you're a new writer living in a tiny apartment in a big city and gojo is the cute waiter at your favorite diner who's just saving up some money because he wants to go back to school and you're both kindaaa crushing on each other, flirting w one another. the restaurant gojo works at ends up starting meal delivery option, and you order some pizza to your apartment just so that you can see him on a weekday and he's soooo super cheeky with it leaning in the doorframe entryway of your apartment with the pizza in his hand like "it says here someone ordered a hot guy in some super sexy black jeans, well he's here now" and you're like "you're such a fuckin idiot" and you abandon said pizza to fuck him on your facebook marketplace couch.
fast forward the next day n you wake up, but he's not there anymore. he left you a little note that says he's going away for a month since his mom is sick and he needs to be w her. you're confused by the note, and you wish he left his phone number because you realize you have no way of contacting him. but that's ok, he'll be back soon, right?
in the couple weeks following the night you both hooked up, you're feeling like shit in the mornings, nauseous, you realize you've missed your period but you shrug it off because it was never really normal anyways. but one morning you throw up, confused as hell, wondering if you got food poisoning. but as you swing your legs back and forth in your paper gown, sitting high up on your primary care doctor's examination room bed, they tell you that you're pregnant and you act like you've never even heard the word before.
there's no doubt gojo is the father, you haven't slept w anyone except him in months. and a baby was just...you can barely afford to pay your bills, you're already living paycheck to paycheck since your book isn't even out yet and you're just surviving w the advance from your old job. what the hell were you going to do? and you can't even tell him that you're pregnant, because he's god knows where, stranding you with no phone number to contact him and you feel so left behind and alone.
the first person he comes to see when he gets back into the city is you. he looks tired, probably from his travels, or possibly from what he saw back home w his mom laying sick in bed. but he's still so happy to see you, and he kisses you and tells you he missed you and you stop him to tell him that you need to talk. for him, there was life before you told him you were pregnant, and then there was life after. and now he was living in the after. standing still in the tiny living room of your apartment when you tell him he's the father, and the words that leave your mouth afterwards are drowned out in his head because he can only focus on that one thought at once.
father. he's going to be a father? whatever heaviness he finds in his chest from the word is replaced with adoration when he looks at you.
keeping it, was what you had told him next.
it was tough at first, because of the morning sickness and the hormones and the yelling at him for not bringing you the kfc you craved so badly a minute before he did, and then the crying that follows suit when you realize you're being mean to him. but he does everything you want, everything he knows how, because he doesn't know how to be a dad, and he figures the least he can do right now is know what to do for you. and the thought scares him, to death every day. as he's driving you to your doctor's appointments, he's praying under his breath that you and baby are ok and healthy. while he's waiting tables at work, he puts on his best smile for an extra tip because it's extra money for the baby, because she isn't even here yet and he already wants to give her everything she's ever wanted.
yes, she. a baby girl. you were having a baby girl. you cried when your ob/gyn slipped and told you the gender, because you asked for it to be kept secret, but what hurt even more was that you told gojo he didn't need to come to this appointment. just a routine little check up, not a big deal. i'll just have my friend drop me off, you said. little did you know it was the one where you would find out you two were having a little girl.
oh, gojo knows nothing about girls. would it be different from raising a boy? can he play wrestle w her when she's a little older, or would he have to be gentle with her? would he learn how to make flower crowns for her with daisies from the field just to see a smile on her tiny face? how will he ever be able to deny her anything, especially if she looks just like you?
the second trimester, you two felt like a young married couple, and for once it felt like things were bright. like you two knew what you were doing. like it wasn't a mistake, but a blessing. you wanted him, desired him, and he'd never desired anything more than he desired you. it took you a while to come around to having sex again, it felt wrong, because that was what got you two into this mess in the first place. but those feelings melted away when you two moved into his little ranch together on the outskirts of town and you knew what it felt like to be hugged by him in the mornings, his sleepy voice drawling in your ear about how much more beautiful you look with every passing day. in those moments, all the regret melts away.
it all comes crashing down in third trimester. you're angry, he's tired, you're sad, he swears he's trying his best but he just can't seem to understand what you need from him. you say you wished this never happened, he says he didn't ask for any of this, and you're sobbing on the kitchen floor with your head in your hands because it all just feels like some cruel twisted joke. like a dream you should be waking up from any second from now. he sits down on the cold tile beside you, solemn in the face. he already looks so much older than the bright eyed boy he used to be, twirling a pizza box around on his finger in the doorframe of your apartment. his cheeks have sunk in, and he looks older. his hand reaches out to hold yours, and he kisses the back of it, and he says he'll never leave. not like how he left all those months ago, with nothing but a note. no matter what it comes to, one thing he can always promise you, is that he'll never leave like that ever again.
when your baby girl was born, nothing else mattered. it's like all the turmoil you faced in the past eight months was not even worth paying a moment's care towards when you cradle her in your arms. gojo had been fighting back tears the entire time, mostly provoked by how difficult childbirth had been for you as he watched feeling helpless, but the moment he held his little girl in his arms, he couldn't fight back the tears anymore. and he cried, and he cried, and he cried. few fathers could treasure their daughters as much as gojo did, and he knows it's a promise every parent makes to their child, but he vowed he'll never let anything hurt her. never let anyone upset her. for as long as he lives, he'll keep all the cruelty away from her, and keep her safe forever. you both named her yuki, for snow drifting outside of the hospital window when she opens her eyes for the first time.
you two make the tough decision that it's best for gojo to go back to school like he originally planned while you take care of the baby at home. it's hard having him away, and it's torture for him too, since he seems to breathe and live just to make yuki giggle and smile. but it's what made fiscal sense, since you knew what it was like to grow up in a household with little money to feed or fend, and the two of you wanted more than that for your daughter.
gojo's mother succumbed to the very illness that had been haunting her since he visited her for a month over a year ago, and he cried to sleep when he realized she only got to hold her granddaughter once before she passed away. and for the first time in his life, gojo learned what it really meant to be a parent, and it was only found in losing his own. there was no time to grieve in the capacity that he wanted to, because he needed to be there for you and his little girl. a year ago, he would've been broken, beaten, and bruised, but now he bleeds only in his dreams, then buries and braves the seasons for the sake of you two. as he slips his shoes off at the front door after a long day, then walks into the dark of the house, turning the corner into your shared room, he sees you humming peacefully while rocking his daughter to sleep. and he realizes his entire world is sitting in that chair.
gojo graduates from his two year engineering program, and lands a job in the city. the same city you left to go live with him when you were pregnant. it was tough to come back to the same city you fled, because all you remember of it now is morning sickness and fear of your career and falling in love with a boy that had a boyish charming smile you knew would ruin you one day. and now he's taken you back, moving the little family you've made together into a house. a house! he bought you a house. it was a little one, with no more than two bedrooms, but there was enough room in your hearts to raise your daughter with love, and that was all she'd ever need. she can walk now, mumble words. she said dada first, and gojo never stops teasing you about it. and when she finally says mama, you felt like your whole heart would burst.
he proposes to you on the waterline of the city's park, at the top of golden hour while the wind is subtle and tame but still ruffles the fabric of your dress. waiter boy, on one knee in front of you, years of waiting tables but he cannot even bare to wait one more second to hear your answer to the most important question he'll ever ask anyone in his entire life.
and you say yes. and he promises he'll love you for the rest of his life.
the wedding is small, because you two decided not to invite all of the family that had become estranged ever since you told them that you were pregnant with a man's child who you weren't even so much as dating. his family became yours after that, with his aunts and uncles congratulating you and yuki's cousins playing with her before she was to skip down the aisle as flower girl. it was sad to see your side of the church so empty, but you could never truly feel empty in this world anymore. not with what all that you've gained in the process.
there is fear in love, and in life. there was fear in gojo's heart when he learned he was going to be a father when he barely even knew right from wrong. there was fear in learning you were going to be a mother when you knew you cannot protect your child from the same hurt that has haunted you for a lifetime. but there was joy too. joy in seeing your baby bump for the first time, joy in holding your daughter in your arms for the first time, joy in seeing a sparkling stone in a tiny box presented to you on a sunday by the boy who still made your heart skip a beat just by looking at him, and there was so much joy in marrying him too.
but you find the real joy comes in the moments that you expect nothing from at all, but they happily surprise you with the feeling nonetheless. like now, as you sit on a picnic blanket at the park and you watch your husband running across fluttering grass in the wind, chasing after your daughter whose giggles and shrieks fill the summer air. he catches her, throwing her up into the air before spinning her around in his arms, and you tuck your hair behind your ear as you watch it happen. you expected nothing from anything life had given you in the past four years, and yet it gave you all the joy in the world. where you could've expected sorrow and sadness, it gave you something beautiful instead. you never would've thought that the boy you locked eyes with through a shy flutter of your lashes underneath warm restaurant lighting, the one that winked at you with no shame despite you being surrounded by all of your friends, you never could've imagined he'd be who he is to you today. but for certain, now, you believe in it. you believe in little miracles.
.
.
.
[the end]
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a/n. what the flying fuck. i'm gonna go cry now lmfao.
560 notes · View notes
dr0wnme0ut · 2 days
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𝕴 𝕭𝖊𝖌, 𝕾𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝕸𝖊 Synopsis: After Lee Hee Heeseung got caught in a bit of a legal scandal he is summoned to community service thanks to his father's legal connections. Heeseung finds himself stuck for the next six weeks working at the local church, how lucky for him the pastors sweet daughter is there to keep him company.
Pairings: LeeHeeseung X Female!Virgin!Naive!Reader
Warnings: DARK CONTENT. Dubcon, manipulation, religious themes, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), thigh riding, creampie, cum eating, masturbation (male and female), sexual use of a rosary, sexual scenes in a church, fingering, cursing, dirty talk, corruption kink, oral (male and female), hair pulling, slight spanking, mentions of blood, slight choking, ??noncon?? (adding that trigger because there is a moment of hesitation that could be viewed as noncon)
*Though this isn't as dark as my normal content, I'm still marking it dark because of the manipulation, dark, and religious themes. People are sensitive to those topics so as a precautionary I marked this DARK.*
Word Count: 7.3k
Author Note: Does this look familiar? Yes! Have you read this before? Probably! This was previously posted on my old blog, "HH" (you might remember me as "Honey", "little ducklings") So sorry I left you so abruptly, but I needed a fresh start on a new space. I hope you all find your way to our new home! I had to re-upload this for you guys because it was my most popular fic, hitting over 2k notes! I hope you guys give it the same amount of love the second time around! PSA: This is the last fic from my old account I will be uploading onto this blog, everything else posted after this is all going to be new work!
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Lee Heeseung is well aware of what he is and what he isn't. He’s a liar, a manipulator, an unreliable friend, an average college student, but above everything, what he takes the most pride in, is that Heeseung is an amazing hookup. He knows he’s hot, he knows girls talk about how great he is in bed and how well endowed he is. 
He’s never had to fight for anything in his life, he’s always gotten what he wanted without hesitation, and yes, that includes women. 
He loves women, more notably he loves taken women. The rush of having someone’s girlfriend underneath him compares to nothing else, especially if they're hooking up with the boyfriend nearby. He can’t explain it, he loves the rush he gets knowing they picked him, they’re risking it all for him. 
And Watching that same girl go up to her loser boyfriend and kiss him with the same mouth Heeseung just had his dick in has his chest swelling with pride 
But you. Fuck. You were the ultimate prize, the forbidden fruit, the one. 
Six weeks of forced community service under the watchful eye of the most respected church pastor in town, your father. Heeseung was initially pissed knowing he’d be spending three days a week, including church service on Sundays, in a tiny stuffy room sorting through donations. But then the most wonderful "miracle" happened, you. 
He doesn’t know how it happened, you’re not the type of girl he goes for. You didn’t even spare him a second glance when he walked in on his first day. But fuck, your face, your modest clothing, your big doe eyes, everything he wouldn’t spare a glance at on a normal day had him aching to touch you. The silver cross necklace resting on your collarbones, the Bible you always had nearby with sticky notes and bookmarks sticking out, the white and silver rosary always nearby and that fucking ring…oh my god he almost lost all self control when he heard about it that first week of work.  
“Are you engaged? You’re still in college, why would you want to settle down already?” He asks, tapping the silver band on your left ring finger.
You giggle and swat his hand away, “no silly. It’s a purity ring.”
He furrowed his eyebrows, “what’s that?”
“It’s a promise ring to God basically. Meaning I’ll remain pure until marriage.”
His eyes nearly bulged out of his head.
“So you’ve never…”
“Of course not!” You say, as if you’re offended by the assumption. 
“Have you ever kissed anyone?” His interest now fully peaked. 
“Nope,” you answer, popping the ‘p’ sound.
“So in a way you belong to God?” He questions licking his lips.
“Yeah..until I get married, I guess you could say that.” 
Fuck.
He barely made it outside to the church parking lot into his car with his hand wrapped around his cock jerking off to the mental image of your dainty hand wrapped around him instead, looking up at him with wide curious eyes like you usually do. The image of that little band on your finger had him spilling all over his hand in minutes, even managing to get some of his cum on the windshield.  
He hasn’t stopped thinking about it. He never had any desire for virgins, they were way too whiny and he didn’t like how clingy they were afterwards. 
But you. 
You were completely untouched, completely untainted, so pure, he wanted to devour you. He wanted to own every part of you. 
You were the grand prize..he loved fucking promised women, when you said you "belonged to God" that was it.
He was on a mission.
He had to take you from him.
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“What are you staring at?” You asked, breaking Heeseungs train of thoughts.
“Nothing..sorry angel, just spaced out.” He smiles watching you look up at him.
“Stop calling me that,” you mumbled at the nickname Heeseung bestowed to you since starting his community service at your fathers church. 
“You like it,” he teased, flashing his signature side smirk. You did, but a part of you also didn't know if he meant it in a condescending way.
“Come on, we'll be late for the service.” 
You clutched your bible and rosary to your chest and started to ascend the church steps with Heeseung trailing behind. You weren’t sure what exactly he did to end up here, but he’s been a big help to you with all the church donation organizing. 
And he hardly complained, it even seemed like he was starting to enjoy coming to Sunday services and sitting in the pew with your friends and family. Taking your usual spots on the pew, you open your Bible and wait for your father to start the service. 
Heeseung was so confused at what was happening, he couldn’t understand what your dad was preaching about, didn’t understand the songs, and didn’t know a single prayer. This whole thing was a fucking waste of his time. The only good thing about these Sunday services was being near you. Especially when you got on your knees during the service, when you would take the bread of Christ in your mouth and swallow it down with the sacramental wine, it had him imagining unspeakable things. The way you had your hands clasped together, looking up with big doe eyes as you took the offerings was such a sinful sight. 
After the service you stayed behind with Heeseung to put away any new donations made by the churchgoers. 
“Did you enjoy today's service?” You ask. 
“Yeah, I definitely learned a lot today,” a sheepish grin adorns his face. He doesn’t even remember half of it.
There wasn’t any denying Heeseung was attractive. Everything about him was inviting. Sometimes your hands would brush or he would accidentally press up against you to walk around in the small donation room and it had a flushing sensation on your body. 
You tried not to focus on it, you were also very well aware of the promiscuous reputation he carried on his back. 
“That’s good, I’m going to miss having you around here when you leave us,” you admit shyly.
“Don’t worry angel, you can’t get rid of me that easily.” He smirked, leaning forward on the sorting table you both were working at. 
“You’re such a flirt,” You shake your head. He can see the smile you’re biting back and the tips of your ears redden.
“Can’t help It when I’m around a pretty girl,” he shrugs.
You roll your eyes and focus back on sorting through the small donation pile. He’s a player, he’s a player, you repeat to yourself in your head, he doesn’t like you in that way.
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Where am I? 
A floral field surrounds you, kneeling on a blanket, clad in a typical dress you normally wear for Sunday services with your rosary clutched in your hands. What’s going on?
“Hey angel..” that voice, ah that velvet smooth voice that has your heart in your throat.
He looks beautiful, of course he does, sitting on the blanket next to you. His dark messy hair falling in front of his doe eyes, he’s in white slacks and a white button up, with the sleeves rolled up.
He almost looks ethereal, “come closer to me.” 
Without hesitation you move to him. 
“Let me see,” he motions toward the beads in your hands. You hand them over and watch the mischievous smirk creep onto his face. He moves behind you on his knees and rubs his hands on your shoulders, massaging you. You hum feeling his large hands rub down your arms stopping at your wrists.
He wraps the beads around your wrists, binding them together behind your back. You look at him confused, but he just smiles and turns your body around to face him. He sits back on his bottom and pulls into his lap. Making sure to position you where you’re straddling his thigh, causing your dress to lift up slightly.
“H-Heeseung what are you-“
He stroked your cheek, cutting you off, “can you pray for me?”
“What?” 
He rubs his hands on your exposed thighs. “Let me hear you pray. Recite the all father, for me, angel.” The nickname only makes you shudder under his touch. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears.
“Our Father, Who art in heaven,” 
You suddenly gasp, feeling him grab your hips and rock your body back and forth on his thigh. 
“Hall-hallowed be Thy N-n-name. Thy Kingdom co-come,” you gasp and try to move your hands from behind your back but he's restrained you tightly with your rosary. The friction from his pants against your drenched panties rubbing against your swollen clit is slowly becoming unbearable.  
“Thy Wi-will be do-done, On-on earth as it is-is in Heaven.”
You cry out as he starts flexing his thigh underneath you, desperate to touch him you fight against the rosary keeping your arms bound behind you. He pulls you down harder on his leg making you rock against him faster. This is how he wanted you, completely at his mercy.
“Keep going angel…” His lips were on your neck sucking the soft skin between his teeth.
“Give us-us this day, o-our daily br-bread,”
He grabs your throat making you look up at him and watches you intently as you rock against his thigh sloppily trying to desperately chase your high. You pant with your eyes wide and glassy, your moves becoming more erratic as you struggle against the rosary. 
“And for-forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who-who trespass ag-against us.”
You were soaking through his slacks. Your voice gets more breathy as you feel that knot in your lower belly ready to snap, closing your eyes trying to desperately keep the same pace against his flexed thigh. 
“Don’t you dare look away….” He growls gripping your chin, your eyes snap open and he stares right into your soul. “Make a mess, angel.” 
Your eyes stared into his dark ones and you moaned out loudly feeling yourself release onto his thigh. Your mouth dropped open but only choked noises were coming out, letting the blinding heat of your orgasm course through your veins. He lets you catch your breath while rubbing your trembling bottom lip, “finish it..”
“And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.” you pant out staring at him still on your orgasmic high.
“Good fucking girl”
You shoot up from your bed, your body covered in a thin layer of sweat and a sticky feeling between your legs. Pulling the blanket off of you to try and let in cold air to your body you gasp at the sight of your gray sleep pants completely soaked through.
What the fuck..
Why did you just dream about Lee Heeseung..
And did you just cum completely untouched?.. 
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Swallowing thickly you walk through the church parking lot to your designated donation table by your fathers side. Today was the church food drive, lots of people were showing up to drop off their canned goods. It was also the first day seeing Heeseung since your dream. Since that night you’ve felt the dull uncomfortable ache between your legs, and a part of you knew only he could fix it. Which only had you feeling disgusting for having such thoughts. 
“Seungie!” A high pitched squeaky voice breaks you out of your thoughts and you see a girl running toward Heeseung. The girl, only clad in short shorts and a tank top, throws her arms around Heeseung giggling.
He’s smirking at her and obviously checking her out. An uncomfortable churn in your stomach makes you look away. 
Why do you care? You knew he had quite the reputation, lots of the girls around you whispered about his escapades and how they so badly wanted to experience it for themselves.Why were you jealous?
Heeseung sees you from the corner of his eye, how your body tensed up when he hugged Karina and how you immediately looked away.
Fuck, how is he supposed to get you to trust him when these stupid girls are acting this way in front of you. 
“Are you even listening to me, Seungie?” Karina’s shrill voice snaps him back to his reality. 
“Sorry, I’m just super busy right now. Can we talk later?”
She scoffs and rolls her eyes, “so what? Now that you fucked me you don’t want to talk to me now?”
“Don’t you have a boyfriend to worry about?” He glares.
“We broke up..you said I was special. I thought we could be tog-“
He raises his hand and shakes his head. “I’m gonna stop you right there Karina. You were fun, but that hookup was all we’re ever gonna have. I never told you to break up with him.”
“So that’s it? We’re over?”
He wants to laugh, “Karina we were never a thing.”
“Fuck you, Heeseung.” He watches her stomp away with tears in her eyes. 
He looks back at your table and sees your back is turned to him. 
Ah fuck, were you mad? He watches you grab a box of donated food and walk into the small donation building you two work out of. 
Perfect, he can talk to you alone. 
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“Are you mad at me?” Heeseung asks, walking into the donation room startling you. 
“Why do you ask that?” You mumble avoiding his gaze.
“You’ve won’t even look at me, angel.” He stands next to you as you place the food on the shelf. You look at him briefly and chew your bottom lip nervously.  
“I'm just busy Heeseung, we have a lot of food to sort through.”
“I don't care angel, what's wrong?” He moves closer to you, caging you against the shelf you’re working on. 
“Are you dating that girl that was all over you?” You blurt out before you realize. You feel the embarrassment wash over you. Way to keep it cool. 
He studies your face before breaking out into a smug grin. You weren’t mad at him, you were jealous of Karina. 
“Does that matter?” He asks, leaning toward you testing just to see how jealous you really were. 
“I guess not, what you do with easy girls is your business.” You bite. 
He barks a laugh, oh you were so fucking jealous and it was so fucking hot. He has never heard you talk bad about anyone before. But here you were, calling Karina easy because you liked him. He was already tainting you. 
“I’m not dating her, angel.”
“She was all over you,” you whisper. He watched your annoyed expression turn into a pout and your eyes avoided his nervously. 
Oh you poor sweet thing. If only you knew how much I wanted to fuck you, you wouldn’t be jealous of some slut. 
“Aw, did my angel not like that?”He says with faux sympathy, caressing your cheek. 
“Don’t make fun of me!” His touch only ignited that burning feeling in the pit of your belly.
“I’m not angel, you’re just so fucking cute when you’re jealous.”
“I’m not jealous!” You try not to melt into his touch but it’s hard. And he looks so inviting. 
He was standing so close to you. His cologne overwhelmed your senses, you could feel the warmth of his body heat. He watches your face and smiles, noticing how your eyes keep dropping to his lips, having a hard time on where to keep your focus. 
Time to test the waters a little further. 
“Am I making you nervous, angel?” 
“No,” you lie. He chuckles, he knows you’re lying, your body gives it away. He can see your pink cheeks, your clenched fists at your side and watches you rub your thighs together. He leans down and places his lips right on your earlobe and he inhales the scent of your floral shampoo. He feels you shudder against him.
“Does anyone else get your little body reacting this way?” His breath fans across your neck. You almost whine when he removes his face and stares down at you with hooded eyes. 
He pushes a piece of hair behind your ear and runs his thumb along your jaw. Stopping at your bottom lip he rubs it softly, of course it’s soft. 
The vivid images of your dream flash across your brain and your eyes widen remembering him doing the same thing after your orgasm. He sees your panicked gaze and he can feel his cock throbbing in his jeans. His gaze darkens, “you’re so fucking pretty, angel.”
His touch made your skin feel warm, it sent little shockwaves throughout your body and was leaving an uncomfortable mess between your thighs. 
“I-um..have to go..” you push past him and quickly walk out of the little room. You needed to breathe, your body was going into overdrive and it felt like it was on fire. This wasn’t supposed to feel good. Your body isn’t supposed to react that way. These feelings..were sinful. 
The donation drive was still busy and you didn’t want to be seen. Spotting the empty church you decide its best to put distance between you and Heeseung and try to ground yourself from these overwhelming feelings. You run in and look around the familiar space, you need to pray. You needed to beg for forgiveness. You needed to do something to stop these feelings. 
Your eyes lock onto the confessional booth and you breathe a sigh of relief. That could work.
Shutting the door to the small confessional you sit on the wooden chair and try to calm your breathing. You never felt this out of control of your body before, with an uncomfortable tightening in your abdomen. 
You hear the door to the otherside of the confessional open and close, only able to see the silhouette of the person coming in because of the latticed divider providing anonymity for the people who are using it to confess their sins to your father. 
“Are you really hiding from me, in here?”
Of course it’s him. 
“What do you want, Heeseung?” You try your best to sound stable but your voice comes out shaky. 
“Why are you hiding from me angel?”
His voice was laced with more faux sympathy. He knows what he’s doing. He also knows you’re too naive to pick up on how he’s messing with you. 
“You..you make me feel weird..”
“In a bad way?” He can’t help the smile that creeps on his face. 
“In a way..I’ve never felt before..it scares me..I don’t know what to do..”
Fuck you sounded so good like this. So desperate, so ready to be molded into his little slut. 
“Are you wet..”
He was feeling bold now. 
“W-what..”
He can hear the trembling in your voice. He lowers his voice and presses his lips against the lattice screen so you can hear him clearly. 
“Is your little pussy wet for me, angel?”
“H-Heeseung! We’re in the church! Don’t say things like that..”
He can hear the change in your breathing and whine in your tone. Oh, this was going to be a piece of cake. 
You hear him fiddle with the buckle of his belt. “Put your hand in your panties, angel..”
“I can-can’t do that..” You gasp, was he serious? Was he really going to do such immoral things in the confessional? 
“Yes you can angel, do it for me. It’ll make you feel good, baby girl, I promise.” 
As much as he wanted to degrade and ruin you, he couldn’t risk you running out of this booth and telling your father. He had to play with you a little to get you wanting more of him. 
“Touch yourself..tell me how it feels angel..”
His tone was soft and comforting, maybe..maybe just this once. And he was offering to help, you would be rude to not accept his help, right?
Slipping your shaking fingers into your skirt and into your panties you feel the amount of arousal that has leaked out of you. “Wh-what do you want me to do..”
He groans, throwing his head back on the confessional wall. The question alone was enough to tip him over the edge. You really were an innocent angel, he was going to mold you into the perfect plaything for him. 
“Rub your pussy baby, just keep rubbing it for me.”
He spits in his palm and starts rubbing his weeping cock. 
You slid your fingers between your slicked lips, lightly grazing your clit, making your hips buck in the air and a loud whimper escaping your lips before you could clamp your teeth on your bottom lip. You had never felt the need to masturbate before, this was all new to you. You find your clit again and rub your fingers faster against it, moaning out again, he presses his head against the lattice desperate to see you but can only make out the silhouette of your body and your arm moving. He fucks his fist faster to the sounds of your whimpers. 
“I can hear how wet you are angel, fuck I bet you’re dripping all over the chair. Don’t you dare go inside, I’m the only one going inside of that virgin pussy.” 
His dirty mouth only makes you whine and clench around nothing. You pressed your fingers to your entrance, you didn't slip inside, just teased the hole to get a feel for it, even more of your arousal was leaking out of you. You prop a leg on the chair giving you better access to your clit and your rub harder and faster against the swollen bundle. 
“Cum for me angel, let me hear my angel’s sweet voice when she cums.” His voice is husky and you replay the images of your dream, mixed with hearing the sounds of his groans and the squelching of his hand around his cock send you into overdrive moving your hand faster. Your vision goes spotty and you moan out in ecstasy as your orgasm hits you hard and fast. Your head hits the wall as you whine loudly, your toes curling in your shoes. The sound has Heeseung’s eyes rolling into his head and he chokes out a gasp as his cum shoots out in hot thick spurts and coats his hand and part of the confessional box. 
You sink into your chair and try to breathe, your body still convulsing from little aftershocks of your first ever orgasm. Coming down from your euphoric high you see the little cross above the door and feel the shame. 
What have you done? It’s bad enough to act on such desires..but in a confessional. This had to be unforgivable. 
Stepping out of the confessional box on shaky legs you look around the church and feel the shame overtake the high you were just on. 
You're in a church, in God's house, and you just masturbated in a confessional box. The reality of your actions repeating over and over in your head. 
Heeseung opens the door to his side of the box and immediately engulfs you in his arms, his mouth is in yours before you even have time to react; your first kiss.
It’s soft at first, both of his hands coming to cup your face but he gets hungrier by the second. Moving his soft lips against yours chasing every movement, you almost forget to breathe trying to pull away but his grip is tight on you. Sliding his tongue in between your lips and lightly massages your own causing a small groan to bubble within you. He smirks, feeling how cautious and uncertain your tongue moves against his. He pulls away, giving your bottom lip one last lick and pecking it one last time. 
“We should get back out there, angel.” 
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Sunday approached quicker than you would have liked. You spent days replaying the events of what happened with Heeseung over and over. A part of you felt saddened by the whole thing, he didn’t talk to you about it afterward and he didn’t call or text and it seemed like maybe he just wanted to add you to the long list of girls he had. But another part of you was desperate for more of him, wanting him to do more, and wanting to be enough so that he wouldn’t need those other girls. The conflicting sides of you causing inner turmoil and questioning your place in the world.
You spent your whole life with a moral code, you never let anyone challenge that or try and change who you were. And now, you didn’t know where you stood. Because if Heeseung didn’t want to be with you, and he was just using you, that would mean you changed your core values for someone who didn’t respect you. And what respectable man would want you after that? After you easily give up your innocence to someone with a questionable reputation. 
You shake the thoughts out of your head and wipe the tears on the back of your hand and continue to straighten up the church altar. Services ended an hour ago, everyone had gone home and you were left alone to clean up the altar and the mess of your life. Heeseung didn’t sit with you today like he usually did and it was his last Sunday of his community service sentence, he left right after service. So it’s safe to assume he's just gone and you were passing the time for him while he was here. 
“What are you doing in here?” Heeseung asks, startling you. You turn around and watch him walk down the aisle to the altar he sees you cleaning.
“Just putting some stuff away,” you mumbled wiping the rag across the marble altar table. 
“Where is your father?” He asks looking around making sure no one was in sight. 
“The clergy have a lunch meeting together this afternoon, I told my father I’d stay behind to clean so he can attend.”
He hears the sadness in your voice and bites back a smile. He saw you the entire service staring at him with hopeful eyes trying to get his attention. He wanted you to miss him, to want him, to need him. And judging by the sad tone and watery eyes, his plan had worked. He had you right where he wanted you. 
“Why are you still here? Isn’t today your last Sunday?” you ask, finally meeting his eyes.  
“Is that why you’re sad, angel? Because you think I’d leave without my girl?” He smiled, stopping in front of the altar. You roll your eyes and turn back around to finish what you were doing. 
“I’m not your girl Heeseung,” 
“You and I both know that’s a lie, angel. Careful, God doesn’t like liars.” He taunts coming up behind you and rubbing his hands down your arms. He feels you tense under his touch, the goosebumps evident on your skin. 
Dropping his face down to your shoulder he sighs softly, “you know, you look really angelic right now..standing here in this pretty white dress, all these candles lit, it's almost sinful how beautiful you look.” He whispers in your ear gently nipping at your earlobe. 
You grip the rag in your hand tightly. “What do you want from me, Heeseung?” 
“I want you,” He answers, kissing your shoulder. 
“I don’t..I don’t want to be like other girls..” you softly admit.
He smirks against your shoulder rubbing his hands on your hips and turning you around.
“Angel, you’re nothing like the other girls.”
“Really…?” You look up at him with your wide doe eyes and he smiles. 
Gotcha, angel. You’re mine now. 
“Trust me baby, they don’t compare to you..”
The innocent smile on your face was going straight to his cock. He needed to work fast. Rubbing your cheek tenderly he kisses your lips, letting his tongue work its way into your mouth. He grabs your hand in his larger one and guides it down to the front of his jeans placing it right over his hard on. You gasp and pull away confused, but he chases your mouth with his and continues to kiss you while he “whines” to you. 
“Angel..kiss..it hurts..kiss..it hurts so bad..kiss..please touch me angel..kiss..make it better..please..” The soft whine in his voice makes you want to help. You don’t want him to hurt, you have to help him. 
You were too fucking easy to mold. 
He unbuckles his jeans and lowers them just enough to release himself. Your hands are clumsy as you reach for him, he sees your nervousness and it only fuels the fire. Wrapping your small hand around his heavy length you look at him for guidance. He wraps his hand around yours and guides it up and down in a pumping motion. You watch his eyes close and hear him hiss, “Fuck…just like that angel..”
He lets you work on his length for a few seconds before he tests the waters again. 
“Angel..I need more..I need your mouth. Can you be a good girl and get on your knees for me?”
You stop pumping him and look at him for a few seconds. You nod, and drop to your knees on the wooden floor and you finally fully take the sight of him. He’s long and thick, it's two toned with an angry red tip and precum leaking from the slit. The sight had your mouth watering.
The sight of you finally on your knees in front of him was almost too much. He wasn’t going to last long. 
You look up at him and grab his cock and lick a circle around the mushroom tip, suckling the tip to drink in his precum. 
His knees almost give out instantly. This was definitely better than any prior sexual experience he had ever had. 
“Angel..” He breathes out and makes a makeshift ponytail out of your hair. You keep his eye contact and take his length slowly into your mouth hoping you're doing okay. Your tongue glides around his throbbing length and he moans again. 
“Do you want me to guide you angel..” 
You hum around him and the smug grin returns to his face. “Relax your jaw and let me take over.”
You obey and he hums stroking your cheek. The sweet affection only lasts for a second before he pulls your mouth further down his cock and you choke around him. The vibrations only added to his pleasure. Tears sting your eyes as he starts to fuck your face pushing your head down further and further on his cock. 
“That’s it angel..you’re doing so well for me..”
His praises only fuel you to try and be good for him. You let him continue to pound into your throat, the chocked sounds around his cock pushing him close to his release. 
Your teary eyes and mouth wrapped around him, have him seeing stars, he pulls out quickly. He was only going to cum in one hole today and it wasn’t going to be your mouth. He watches the spit and precum dribble down your chin and mix with your tears. 
Fuck. He was so close to losing all self control. 
“Fuck me angel, you look so good like this, what would God say of he saw you like this,” He teases wiping the mess off your chin.
“Don’t say that..”you frowned.
The pout..that fucking pout did it. It pushed him to the edge. 
“Fuck…I cant hold on anymore I have to fuck you.” His eyes narrowed as he gripped you by your hair to your feet.  
“Hee-Heeseung I can’t..” you shake your head and try to back away. 
“You can and you will, angel.”
You stare at him with a confused expression, was he serious? He doesn’t give you time to take in his words because he's picking you up and leaning you against the marble altar you just cleaned. He places you on the altar, discarding the large Bible, and other items to the floor before sitting you down and slotting himself between your legs. 
He grabbed the front of your dress and yanked it down with your bra exposing your bare tits to him, your nipples instantly harden from the cool air. 
You truly looked sinful. Sitting on the church altar, bible discarded on the floor, lit candles around the both of you, the sun shining in through the stained glass windows painting you in red hues, if there truly was a God Heeseung was going to hell for what he was about to do to God’s favorite angel.
Your doe eyes were wide with anticipation as you stared at him waiting for his next move. Everything around you seemed to have blur out, no longer caring where you were. All you could focus on was Heeseung. 
He takes one of your hardened nipples into his mouth and massages the other with his large hand, pinching the bud between his fingers. Your jaw goes slack at the feeling of his tongue, you arch into him at the new sensation. 
While you're distracted he slips his hand under your dress and skillfully tugs down your panties, of course noticing how the entire front of them are completely drenched in your arousal. He bites down harder on your nipple and sucks harshly causing you to arch your back again and lean your head back further and he carefully slots the ruined panties in his back pocket while you’re not looking. A perfect reminder of today. 
Pulling away he kisses your chest before standing up and looking down on you, he pushes you gently on your back, you shiver feeling the cold marble under your back. He pushes your knees up and places your feet flat on the altar displaying your leaking pussy to him. He licked his bottom dip, he wanted a taste of you, but time was a factor and he needed to get his dick in you fast before you got lost in your head and changed your mind. 
He ran his fingers over your slippery pussy gathering some of your moisture and rubbed around your entrance and slowly pushed one of his long fingers inside. He watched your eyes flutter shut and mouth drop open. Fuck, you were impossibly tight.
You felt your walls clenching around him and he shoved another finger in. You moaned out at the intrusion.
You pushed yourself up on your elbows as watched and he continued to scissor his two fingers inside of you to stretch you out.
“Does it feel good angel?” He whispers against your knee and kisses it. 
You nod cautiously, taking your bottom lip between your teeth. 
“Youre so fucking tight I don’t know if my cock will fit in this little pussy angel.” He smirks feeling how you clench around his fingers at his dirty talk. 
His long fingers explored you searching for that special spot. He taps a particular spongy spot and you drop back onto your back moaning loudly, and your hips buck into his hand. 
Found it. 
The amount of moisture leaking out of you was sinful, he dropped his head between your thighs and licked a stripe from his fingers to your clit to just get a taste of you. You jerked at the sensation and clenched harder around his fingers. 
Fuck, he usually couldn’t be bothered about going down on women, but you tasted so sweet he was definitely going to have to spend an hour or two later just devouring your leaking cunt. Kissing the inside of your thigh he fucks his fingers into you faster, making sure to hit that spongy spot.
“Come on angel..cum for me..”
He latches his mouth back onto your chest leaving purple bites in his path. You groan the feeling of that familiar knot in your abdomen is back. Running your fingers through his messy dark hair you arch into his mouth and you release all over his hand crying out. His fingers stayed inside of you working you through your orgasm.
Watching you come down from your high his dark eyes flicker to the large cross above you and he chuckles softly, maybe he should thank the heavens for bringing you to him. 
His smirk is devilish as he pulls his fingers from you and pumps himself a few times and pulls your body closer to his awaiting cock.
He sees the apprehension on your face and smiles. “Don’t worry angel, I’ll make it fit.”
You nervously try to close your legs but he slaps the outside of your thigh making you whine, “your pussy is mine, angel. Don’t you dare hide it from me.”
You whine and let him spread your legs. 
He grabbed his cock and spreads your release along his aching length. He pressed his tip to your folds and rubbed it back and forth, from clit to your entrance making you writhe in overstimulation.
In a moment of slight panic realizing what was about to happen you bring your hands up to his chest to try and stop him and push him away. 
“Wait Heeseung..I don’t think I’m ready.”
“Stop thinking, angel, just let me think for you,” He smirks and you feel his mushroom tip stretching you as he pressed inside of you slowly. He lifted the bottom of your dress to your chest so he wouldn't miss the view.
You hissed and he went deeper, pushing a little at a time. He pushed your body down on the altar flat on your back as he pushed into your walls further. Your nails scraping the marble under you and tears filled your wide eyes as you felt him reach the thin barrier of your virginity. This was it, there wasn't any coming back from this.
You took a shaky breath, your body was trembling underneath him, he moaned loudly as he ripped right past it and you choked a sob when you felt it break.
God, forgive me.
You let out a small pained whimper as he continued stretching you to your limit, the further he pushed in the more painful it was. Finally, he reached the hilt inside your tight virgin hole. His pelvis pressed right against yours. 
He stayed buried inside your heat as he leaned down and placed a tender soft kiss on your lips. Nipping at your bottom lip and slithering past the barrier and exploring your mouth trying to distract you from the discomfort. Your mouth was slack against his, the stretch was too painful to focus on anything else.
Breaking the kiss, he looked down at you grinning at the sight of the small bulge under your belly button where his cock was. 
“You’re taking all of me so well angel,”
He pressed down on the bulge and watched you gasp out. “You feel that? God made you for me.” He whispered, wrapping his hand around your neck applying slight pressure. 
You were shaking, the tears never streaming down your reddened cheeks. He pulled out of you and you breathed a sigh of relief from the pain subsiding but he pushed back in you hard, causing another choked sob from your throat. He kept his thrusts steady at first, easing himself in and out as you whimpered and writhed under him. He took a second to admire the way your body twisted against him. The more his cock filled you, the better it started to feel, the dull pain between your legs starting to fade into bliss. 
He smiles proudly seeing you start to relax and let your body rock against his. 
“That’s it angel, fuck your little virgin pussy on me” He sped up his thrusts, moving his hand between the two of you and pressing his thumb down on your clit. Your back arches off the altar, “oh god!”
“Not God baby…say my name..scream it.”
You wrapped your thighs around him as he rocked into you. “Heeseung!”
Your eyes rolled back as your body was fully succumbing to the pleasure. You could barely feel any pain anymore as he fucked harder and faster into you. Your hands went straight to his shoulders for leverage, “M-more…Hee-Heeseung more..”
He groaned, watching you bounce against him. licking his lips, his pace picked up. “My angel wants more? You want me to fuck you harder baby?”
You nod, scraping your nails down his shoulders.
“Say it angel. Tell me what you want.”
He needed to hear it, he needed to hear the dirty words leave your mouth. He had to hear and see the vision of you he’s been so desperate to have. 
Your wide teary eyes stare up at him, the silver cross necklace bouncing on your chest with every harsh thrust he gives only adds to the sinful sight.
“Fuck me..please fuck me, Heeseung.”
The sight and sound was better than anything he could have ever imagined.
He plunged into you without any restraint, no more holding back. You were like his very own fuckdoll now, your body was at his mercy. His thumb kept rubbing your clit, The noises escaping him were feral. He was lost to his own pleasure.
His thrusts grew even more ferocious as he hammered into you relentlessly. He grabbed a fistful of your hair and forced your head to look down where he was entering you. 
“Do you see that angel? You’re mine now,” he growled.
You clenched your jaw as you looked at the sight of his cock entering you at a fast pace. His entire pelvis was coated with your arousal, you could see a small hint of your blood along his cock.
He noticed it too, it only made him want to fuck your harder.
“Say it, say you’re mine,”
"I-I'm y-yours!"
You hugged him with your legs, clinging to his shoulders as you came again. Your walls squeeze him tight as you released yourself on his cock. "I’m going to cum, angel,” He mumbled against your open mouth. He threw his head and you felt the spurts of warmth bloom within you. He let his head hang back for a few seconds, catching his breath. He slowly pushed your body back down onto the altar as he stayed buried inside of you, looking down at your fucked out body. His hand glided over your trembling thighs. Leaning down on top of you, he kisses along your collarbone as you continue to shake from your orgasm.
You both stayed in each other's arms panting for a few more minutes, his lips leaving soft kisses along your sweaty skin. He hears you sniffle and he pulls away to see the cause. Your face is tilted back as you stare at the large cross above the both of you as silent tears stream down your face. He only smirks, he won. 
Your arms are still wrapped around him, he takes your left arm and removes it from him, breaking you out of your trance. Gently grabbing your wrist he brings your hand to his mouth and slips your ring finger into his mouth and uses his tongue to aid him in removing the silver purity ring. He holds the once sacred jewelry between his teeth with a cocky grin and spits it out. You cringe hearing the metal clink and bounce off of the marble altar. “You definitely can’t wear that anymore, angel.” 
He rubs his large hands over your thighs and up your stomach. “You don’t belong to God anymore.” He pulls out of you and smiles watching the creamy mess leak out of you and fall onto the sacred altar. You whine loudly when he dips a finger into your sore hole, he scoops a small amount of both of your releases and taps your lips. You open obediently and let him slip the mixture into your mouth. “You belong to me now.”
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Every like/comment/re-blog gives church Heeseung a kiss!
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redfoxwritesstuff · 3 days
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Steamy Situations 18+ (Alastor x reader)
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Alastor x reader Rated: Adults only Warnings: Smut. It's shower smut. Female bodied reader. Careful with your shower sex.
Summary: You're hot and bored and your husband is busy working. If only there was a way you could distract him, get some of his attention and cool off. PS: https://discord.gg/q8kqx7ss is an Alastor server a friend of mine started and https://discord.gg/HeEbAHju is a vox server another friend of mine started. More friends are always nice to have <3
~~~~~<3 He had been slouched over his fucking desk for hours, working away at scripts for the next week’s broadcasts. They were perfect, probably had been for a while but when he was stressed, the perfectionist came out in full force. 
The summer heat and humidity had sweat sticking to your skin. Though the curtains were closed all day to keep the harsh sun from warming the house any more than possible, it was hot. 
The silk of your slip clung to your back as you crossed the room, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders. If you were hot and grimy feeling, he had to be too. 
He huffed at the interruption, making you roll your eyes.
“Don’t roll your eyes at me,” he mumbled, not looking up from the pages in his hands. 
“I didn’t-” 
“Don’t lie to me,” he set the papers down with a huff. “Can I do something for you?”
“I need a shower,” you said, running your palm up the back of his neck, threading your fingers into the short curls that had grown wild with the humidity.
“Take one?” He leaned back into your touch as tension slipped from his shoulders. 
“You need one as well.” Your thumb rubbed at the drop of sweat rolling down the side of his neck.
“It would appear so,” He said with a laugh, shifting to face you. “Do you have something in mind, my dear?” 
“Well,” you slipped into the space between his torso and the desk that had been newly opened up, “If you need a shower and I need a shower, we should both take a shower.”
“Good thing we have two showers!” Alastor’s grin was wide as you struggled against the urge to roll your eyes again. 
“Or,” you drew out the word as you ran your hand up his chest, “We could take one together.” 
“How scandalous.” He sounded anything but scandalized as he patted your thigh, light reflecting off the simple gold wedding band. “Let’s get on with it then.” 
~~~~~<3
You had innocent intentions, stepping into the bathroom. Honest. 
It’s just, when you saw his warm tan skin under the running water, sending the shampoo down the valleys and dips between his strong muscles, you found yourself feeling rather jealous. 
You hadn’t even intended for this to happen. One moment his shampoo was running down his chest and the next it was your hands. Soft, water cooled skin over firm muscles that spoke of how hard her worked to maintain the property jumped and twitched under your touch. 
The water wasn’t hot but it wasn’t cold either, being somewhere comfortably between to soothe away the heat. It did nothing to cool the heat quickly building between you as his hands went to rest on your hips. His frame blocked the spray of the water, mist fanning out around him, catching the light in a way that made it look like he was glowing. 
“What?” 
“You’re so handsome,” you whisper, hands running up his water cooled skin to pull him to you. 
Standing on your tip toes, you trusted him to hold you steady as you slotted your lips over his. Strong hands wrapped around your hips, thumbs tracing circles over wet skin as your naked front pressed against his. Water running over his shoulder filled what little gaps there were between you. 
With a sigh, he pulled his lips from yours only to leave a trail of kisses along your jaw, “Thank you, my Dear. I am but nothing in the face of the beauty you possess.” 
“You flirt,” you tease, softly slapping his wet shoulder. 
“Hardly,” his chuckle seemed to bounce off the walls of the small room, wrapping you up in it as much as you were wrapped in his arms as Alastor croons, “Your beauty transcends even the brightest of flowers” Alastor croons. 
Your protest died on your lips as his warm tongue ran along your neck, dragging higher until his lips pulled your ear lobe between his teeth. You arch in his arms, trying to put space between you. His thighs were pressed against yours, member twitching to life against you as you half heartedly tried to wiggle out of your husbands arms.
“You’re not slippery enough to get away from me yet,” Alastor teased, arms tightening around you and holding you flush against him.
“Alastor,” you whined as one hand run lower, grabbing a palmful of your ass, “We’re in the shower, stop it’s-”
“Indecent?” Alastor teased, pushing her against the cold wet tile of the wall. “Scandalous, even?” 
“Yes,” your voice was weak as he looked down at you, cock pressing up against your thigh.
“Was it not you,” Alastor’s fingers slipped over wet skin, running up your ribs to cup a breast. Skilled fingers pinched and pulled at your nipple, “who disturbed me at my work with this indecent idea? Wishing to shower together?” 
“Yes?” 
Whimpering, you struggled to keep yourself from sliding down the wall. Alastor’s strong thigh pressed between your knees, pushing until they parted under the pressure. You had no choice but to yield until his thigh pressed tightly against your core, ensuring you would remain standing.
“And now? HA! Now you expect me to keep my mind on something other than having my wife’s wet,” He kissed your shoulder as he pressed his thigh against your slit with every word that followed, “naked, soft, inviting body on full display?” 
“Alastor, I didn’t-” 
“Don’t lie to me,” Alastor pulled your hips forward, grinding your cunt against his thigh. “You think I can’t feel your slick? I know that’s not water. I’m going to give you exactly what you wanted.” 
The dark promise in his voice had your core clinching against nothing. Delicate muscles twitched as a soft moan fell from your lips. Blunt nails ran down your sides as he smiled down at you. Fingers dug into the fat at your thighs as he simultaneously lifted you off your feet and pinned your hips against the wall. 
On reflex, you wrapped your legs around him. Shower spray pelted your legs as you struggled to grip his wet body. His hands seemed to have no issue holding onto you though. 
He ran his cock through your folds, gathering the slick and lubricating himself. Each pass over your clit had you arching, gasping and rocking into him as you sought more friction. There wasn’t much you could do though, pinned to the shower wall as you were. It was just how he wanted you, at his mercy. 
“Alastor,” you whined his name. 
“Just hold onto me,” he said as he lined the head of his cock up with your entrance. You tensed in his arms. “Just relax, this is what you wanted.” 
He breached your entrance slowly. You spread around the fat head of his cock little by little as the unrelenting pressure left your body no choice. Pleasurable pain spread through you as he sank deeper and deeper within you. He was large and your body struggled to accommodate him without preparations. 
A shuddering ran up his spine as he bottomed out, forcing you to take all of him in one long slow thrust. Unstretched and unprepared, your body gripped him, walls fluttering around his cock as they strained to accommodate his considerable size.
You clung to him, arching in his arms as he chuckled against your shoulder. His body was burning against yours in contrast with the cold wet tile. It felt good. 
Rocking his hips, he worked his cock through your walls, ensuing you were spread over ever bit of him, taking all he had inside your walls as if there had been any doubt before. You gasped and twitched with ever shift of him inside you. Once he felt you had relaxed enough, he upped slowly from your body, holding you in place with his hands. 
Though his entrance and withdraw had been slow, what followed was anything but. He plunged inside you with such speed and force that your lower back slammed against the tile. He held you in place as his hips slammed into you again and again. 
You could do nothing but hold onto him and hope the water didn’t cause his feet to slip or you to slide out of his grip. Again and again, the head of his cock kissed your cervix with each thrust. 
Gasps turned into moans as he shifted your hips and his, letting the head of his cock rub against the spongy nerves that caused your cunt to flood with slick anew. Your fingers slipped over his shoulders, nails struggling to find grip before winding into his hair. Numb fingers pulled at his wet hair, his broken name all you can say as the coil inside you begins to tighten under his expert touch. 
“So tight,” you can feel his lips move against your neck as he fucks into you savagely. 
“Alas… Alastor,” your head falls back against the tile with a thump that you don’t feel. You’re so close now, so very close. No longer can you feel the cooling spray of the water or the tile. The sound of the shower is lost to you.
All you can feel is your husband’s body pressed against you, the grip he has on your thighs and his cock slamming into you again and again. All you can hear is his breath washing over you, soft praises whispered between moans and the music of his wet body meeting yours. 
With each powerful thrust, you could feel the twitch of his cock against your cervix. He was as close as you were. Knowing that you had the power to reduce the great radio host to rutting into you in the shower sent a thrill through you that was enough to push you over.
Your body clamped down around him as you came undone in his arms. The pull of your cunt trying to suck his cock deeper inside drew a long deep moan from him as his pace grew sloppy. A handful of thrusts later and he slammed himself inside, teeth latching onto your shoulder painfully tight as he tried to stifle moan that always came with his release. 
Rutting his hips into your twitching cunt to continue to stimulate himself, he refused to separate as his cock twitched and spasmed inside, seed shooting to paint your cervix with his essence and claim. 
As both your breathing calmed and he slowly began to soften, you unhooked your ankles from behind his back. His grip went slack, letting you stand on weak legs as his cock slipped out of you, leaving you feeling empty and sore but satisfied. At least for now. 
Alastor hummed as you settled against his chest, arms holding him in a light embrace. There was comfort in the sound of the popular tune and the sound of the shower spray. His strong hands rubbed suds into your body, lulling you further into relaxation. He washed your hair with tender care before allowing you to assist him with his own cleaning. 
Sitting you on the edge of the tub, he dried you with the same tender care. No one would believe he was the same man that so roughly, so quickly took you in the shower. As he rubbed the water from your hair, he tilted your head up and placed a soft chase kiss upon your sleepy lips. 
“I love you,” he said, smile as soft as his words. 
“I love you, too.” 
“Let’s get you to bed my Dear, so I can get back to work.” 
~~~~~<3 TagList: @catticora, @alastor-simp
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nathaslosthershit · 2 days
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New Neighbors and Interrupted Streams [Part 1] (LN4)
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Read Part 2 here! Summary: Desperate for new friends, maybe it's time to revert to the tried and true neighborly American cookie exchange.  A/N: I know Lando lives in Monaco but in this he is still in the UK. Also I really love fics that have something to do with Lando streaming and being teased the entire time.
This was stupid. This was probably so stupid. But she had to do something.
Two weeks she had been in her new apartment, in a new country. In that time, she had gotten increasingly lonelier, seemingly unable to make friends.
She had moved to the UK for work but with another month till she actually began her new job, she didn’t know how to make friends in her free time.
God, why was it so hard to make friends as an adult? 
So, after a call with her mom expressing her issues with making friends, she was reminded of a good-old US custom.
Baking cookies for your neighbor.
Usually, this was reserved for pre-existing residents to introduce themselves to the new folks moving in, but after all this time she didn’t expect her neighbors to reach out, so it seemed she had to do it herself. 
After that phone call, she tried it twice with some of her neighbors. The first time, she left them at the door with a note introducing herself to them, saying she hoped they could meet up sometime. She found the cookies still in the box, with the opened note on her doorstep later that day. 
The second time, she got so excited when she saw from down the hall that her neighbor had grabbed them, swiftly moving inside his own flat with the cookies while reading the note. But a week later and no sign of any desire from the neighbor to connect with her, she gave up. 
She had one last person she could try with, the ridiculously cute boy who lived in the apartment across from her. She hadn’t actually talked to him, just spied on him a few times from her peephole when she heard him leaving his flat. Creepy, she knew, but she was far too shy to say anything.
But she was so desperate, and she could tell he was around her age… she thinks. After sitting at her table for an hour staring at the home baked goods, she finally grabbed them and knocked on his door before she could chicken out. 
Lando was streaming with Max next to him, when he got a notification that someone was by his door. Thinking it was the takeaway he ordered, he swiftly excused himself to go grab it. What he didn’t expect was the pretty girl who had just moved across from him to be at the door.
There was a beat of silence as they both stared at each other. In all honesty, she was just going to knock, wait a few seconds, then leave the cookies. She hadn't expected him to answer the door so she was unsure what to say. 
Finally he spoke up.
“Sorry, are we being too loud? We can totally quiet down if you need to.” He said while awkwardly scratching the back of his neck.
She still didn’t reply, too stunned by seeing him for the first time not through a small and dirty peephole. God, he was beautiful.
Seconds of silence went by until she finally managed to get everything she wanted out.
“No, no I am so sorry. You are completely fine, that's not why I am here. I just didn’t think you'd actually answer the door. Anyway, I know this is probably strange and I don’t think they actually do this here but I just wanted to introduce myself to my neighbors, so I made cookies! Again this is probably so weird of me so it's totally fine if you don’t want them or something, the other neighbors clearly didn’t but that's okay. Anyway- Hi, I live across from you and now I am here with cookies!” She managed to get out in one breath while sticking the cookies out for him to grab.
This time, Lando took a few seconds to reply, trying to process what she said. “You’re American.” Was all he managed to get out.
She didn’t know what to reply, it wasn’t a question but felt like he needed reinforcement about that statement.
“I am.”
“I didn’t realize they actually did this, thought it was a movie thing.”
“Uh- I am sorry?”
“No. no! It's sweet, thank you for them. I really appreciate it… sorry what's your name? I’m Lando by the way” 
How she managed to not actually say her name while she spent a full minute rambling about how she wanted to introduce herself was beyond her, but after quickly introducing herself, properly this time, she finally felt the tension and awkwardness leave her body.
He took the cookies from her, promising that he was excited to eat them even though he knew his trainer wouldn’t be too happy, and took this opportunity to get her phone number. Promising to text her, he closed the door and immediately looked out his peephole, wanting to get one more look at her. He was surprised, and amused, to see she did a little celebratory dance in the hallway, before taking a breath and entering her own apartment, excited she had just made a new potential friend.
“What took you so long, Mate? And why are you so red? And why do you have cookies? Where is the food we ordered?” Max asked when Lando entered the room again, a stupid grin adorning his face.
“It wasn’t our delivery, the new neighbor just stopped by to introduce herself.”
“The cute one you kept going on about?” Max teased, earning a kick to the shin as that wasn’t information Lando wanted everyone watching the stream to know.
“Anyway- she brought cookies as a little hello. It's sweet. I've never gotten cookies made for me before.”
“She brought cookies? The hell would she do that for?”
“Like I said, to introduce herself. She’s american.”
Before Max could ask anymore questions, specifically about why Lando was smiling so much and why he was beet-red, which Max already knew the answer to, their actual takeaway came, saving Lando for the time being.
When he came back and they started eating, Lando wasn’t interrogated on the topic, at least not until he began giggling on his phone.
“Mate, what are you- Oh my god guys he is giggling and texting his new neighbor. Chat, this is unbelievable.” Max yelled as he stole Lando’s phone from his hand. Reading the messages with disgust, he added, “God, you need to work on your flirting, you sound like an absolute muppet right now.”
Lando quickly took his phone back and tried to change the topic. Throughout the rest of the stream, he tried his best to not look at the new messages she had sent in order to not be teased, as the chat seemed to still be mentioning every time he would secretly text her, trying to be stealthy as to not let Max find out.
He just hoped this whole thing stayed on the stream, and that it wouldn’t come to the press, who loved to question him on his relationships. The last thing he needed was to be asked this during media after a race.
He wouldn’t be so lucky, he soon would find out after the next race.
Read Part 2 here!
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foldingfittedsheets · 9 hours
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Did you know guinea pigs are born just like. Tiny adults? They’re fully cooked. They come out, eyes open, fully furred, ready to do the whole array of guinea pig activities.
I learned this as a child. I was perhaps ten when this story took place. Our female guinea pig was pregnant, but she’d gotten mites and needed a bath. She was wildly pregnant. Bulging at the seams with babies. Ready to burst at any moment, but we wanted to avoid the babies all getting mites and needing baths. We failed, they all needed baths. Mites are a bitch.
We knew she had three babies cooking in there. How did we know? We could feel each individual bulge in her belly. My mom was overseeing the pig bath but I was pretty much just doing my own thing, scrubbing her gently, rinsing the soap carefully.
After the bath our mother pig was not in the best mood. I was carrying her back to her freshly made mite free bedding when she’d had enough.
I was acutely aware that I was holding four lives in my childish grip, and I bore her along as if she were made of precious jewels and spun glass. Balanced in my hands I could feel the bulge of each of her babies slithering wetly around under her skin.
Which is why when she hauled off and sank her teeth into the meat of my hand I didn’t flinch. I didn’t drop her. I bore her as carefully and steadily as if I weren’t now bleeding freely, and I set her gently into her pig palace.
As I drew my hands away I screamed:
“FUCK!!!”
I then turned to look at my mother, who’d been watching the process intently.
I was fully aware that I had just done the worst possible swear directly in front of an authority figure and was very probably going to be punished. My mom was looking at me with a blank expression that I was waiting to turn stormy or disappointed.
“That must have hurt a lot,” was all she said.
She helped me throughly clean and bandage the bite. All the babies were born healthy and sound, looking like someone had used a shrink ray on trio of a guinea pigs.
Years later my mother confided in me that contrary to my belief that she’d be angry for swearing what she’d felt for me in that moment was overwhelming pride that in the face of pain and shock I had refused to let harm befall my little charges.
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moonstruckme · 14 hours
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omg i'm SO obsessed with roommate james like you don't understanddddd 😭💗 i've been loving the shy reader fics so far i'm so excited to see more of them!! i don't know if this would make sense w/ shy reader so honestly just write it however you want but i would loooove to see something w/ roommate james where he has friends over but is always like talking about her and checking on her and everything and his friends are just teasing him about it hahaha i think it would be so fun!! anyway tysm and i hope you have a good day!!!
Hi sweetheart! I had this scene already written but I did implement a couple of the things you requested, hope you like it <3
cw: alcohol
part 1 │ part 2 │ part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6
roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 1.3k words
Somehow, you’ve wound up basically in James’ armpit. 
“Falsehoods!” James is laughing, nearly shouting, but you get the sense one needs to yell a bit to communicate in this friend group. Everyone except Lily and Remus, that is, for whom the others seem to quiet reflexively every time they start to speak. “Lies and falsehoods! If I recall, I wasn’t the one who left a pot in the sink for so long it grew mold.” 
“It wasn’t my pot!” Sirius defends himself, propping himself up on Remus' shoulder to make his point. He’s somehow managed to recline on the arm of your couch, his boyfriend’s arm wrapped cautiously around his waist to keep him from slipping off. “You cooked pasta in it and then forgot!” 
“Y/n,” says Lily, sitting across her girlfriend’s lap, “blink twice if you need help.” 
Mary laughs, hooking her hands under Lily’s knees to pull her closer and then intertwining their fingers. This is another thing you’ve noticed about James’ friends: they have a tendency to pile. Not even necessarily with their respective significant others and seemingly regardless of the seating available; last time you came home Sirius was half across James’ lap and Lily and Remus were sitting together on the rug as if the rest of the couch wasn’t empty. 
You laugh too, self-consciousness making you slip further down James’ side when the others look your way. So, it’s possible you have some idea of how you came to be basically in his armpit. 
James grins down at you. “Don’t listen to them,” he stage-whispers. “We both know what a good roommate I can be, under the right management.” 
Your answering smile comes far too easily. You like seeing James like this. You don’t think he’s ever not himself, but as soon as Sirius got here it’s like he dialed up to eleven. And he obviously loves his friends, entertaining them, making them laugh. You can see why, too. They’re an easy bunch to talk to. 
It probably helps that James has been practically tipping ciders down your throat (he hasn’t; he’s offered them to you, and you’ve gulped them down like the nervous freak you are), but you’re actually having a good time. You felt a bit indebted after he’d bought you a pizza last week and you’d still chickened out of coming downstairs, but now you’re glad you’re here. 
Your body feels loose and liquidy, and your shoulder is just starting to hurt from the position you’re in (which makes you wonder how long James’ ribs have been hurting from your shoulder digging into them) when he looks down at you again. He seems amused. 
“You comfy down there?” he asks. 
“Meh.” It’s an honest answer. 
“Here.” He brings his arm to your shoulder, propping you up and then scooching closer to you on the couch. Now you’re not in his armpit so much as under his arm, which drops from where it’s draped across the back of the couch to squeeze your shoulder reassuringly. “Better?” 
“Yeah.” Even the social lubricant of alcohol can’t keep the nervous edge from your voice. “Thanks.” 
“Course, love.” He gives your shoulder another little squeeze, beaming as he focuses back on the conversation. 
Your chest hurts, a gratifying ache. 
You manage to down another cider before his friends start saying their goodbyes, Sirius and Remus each whipping out a cigarette as soon as they’re outside while Lily and Mary fake cough and James heckles them lovingly from the doorway. 
When he shuts the door he’s still smiling, so obviously content you can’t help but feel a crush of affection for him. 
“Thanks for inviting me,” you say, grabbing a rag to clean up where Mary had accidentally spilled a bit of her drink. 
“Of course, I told you you’re always—what are you doing?” 
He sounds so affronted you actually think you’ve done something wrong. You look up from where you’re mopping up the spill, confused. 
“I’m cleaning everything from tonight,” he says, still looking outraged. 
You smile in relief when you realize it’s feigned. “Don’t be stupid. I was participating tonight, too.”
“You make it sound like you were an accomplice to some crime.” James sits down beside you and steals the rag from your hand, cleaning up the rest of the spill himself. “You’re off the hook, you were practically coerced.” 
“I was,” you agree, standing and gathering the dishes from the coffee table instead, “but it was fun in the end. I’m a little bit glad you coerced me.” 
You can hear James’ smile in his voice. “I’ll be sure to do it more often. First, I’m gonna coerce you into hanging out with us again on Friday, and then—“ He turns around, eyes narrowing as he spots the couple of glasses you’re carrying “—stop picking up my mess! Fuck, I can’t keep up with you, you’re like a machine.” 
A giggle fizzes out of you. James stands and holds his hands out for them, but you take a couple of steps back. “Why can’t I help? Anyway, you’re just as clean as I am.” 
“Because, it was my idea,” he laughs, pursuing you. “And I’m only clean because you’re clean.” He backs you up against the stairs, wrestling the glasses away from you with frustrating ease. “If I thought you didn’t care, this whole place would look like the inside of my room.” 
You give an odd bark of laughter, leaning on the banister to look at him. He looks ridiculously smug, both glasses held in one big hand. “Oh my god, you’re so nice. It’s pathological.” 
“Wow.” Some of the smugness falls away as James grins at you. “That’s a real one.” 
“What?” 
“Your smile,” he says. You still don’t get how he can do this eye contact thing, looking at you so openly while he seems so sincere. Your own gaze flees downward, warmth rushing to your cheeks. “I don’t get to see it a lot, out in the open like that. It’s really lovely.” 
He reaches for you, doing this weird chin-pinching thing that shouldn’t be half as endearing as it is. You roll your eyes, but your mouth seems stuck. You don’t know how to respond. 
James doesn’t seem to notice, taking the glasses with him into the kitchen. You grab a few more off the table and follow him. He’s turned the light above the sink on, but the rest of the kitchen is dim. His long sleeves are pushed up to his elbows as he makes soapy water in the sink. 
As you come in, he turns around to take the glasses from you, the light from above casting a glowy halo of his thick brown hair. He’s so beautiful it makes your stomach hurt. You’re suddenly worried you might be just inebriated enough to do something stupid. 
James narrows his eyes at you teasingly as he snatches the glasses away. “Enough of that,” he scolds. 
“Are you sure you don’t want any more help?” you ask. 
He rolls his eyes. You’re pretty sure he didn’t do that so much before he started hanging out with you. On him, it somehow manages to look fond. “Positive,” he says. “Go stop being useful.” 
You catch yourself biting the inside of your lip. “Okay. Then I think I’m gonna head up for the night.” 
“Yeah?” James looks over, and you wonder for a second if something in your voice has given you away. He looks confused, a bit worried, but then that melds into a soft sweetness. He gives you a smile. “Okay. Sweet dreams.” 
“You too,” you say, doing your best to smile in response before you round the corner to the stairs. 
Your brain feels fuzzy. You’re not sure if that’s from alcohol or fatigue or something else entirely, but it feels good to put on your pajamas, clean your face in front of the mirror. The covers on your bed are soft and heavy. You can hear the kitchen sink running downstairs as you slip beneath them, James finally starting to rinse the dishes before he turns in for the night, too. 
You think of his boisterous laugh, the weight of his arm around your shoulders, his thumb pressing into your chin. 
When you close your eyelids, you half expect to find a faint outline of his smile impressed upon the insides.
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silkentine · 3 days
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All I could think while drawing Nami was, “Wouldn’t you like to know, weatherboy?” And, of course, with Robin I was thinking, “save a horse… 🥵”
Design Notes and other opining below the cut:
For Nami, I wanted to go for a mix of cocky Jersey mafia newbie and surfer boy. I like to think that some of the horrendous outfit choices that Sanji makes (especially in the movies) were actually picked out by Nami. She’s the shopper!!! But yeah, the vibrant swim trunks and graphic tees just scream Nami. I also wanted to put him in a wetsuit/rash guard because I think that’s a sexy look so sue me if you hate it. You cannot argue with me that Nami doesn’t wear swimsuits as clothes.
He’s toned but not as muscular as Robin or Luffy (for example) because he isn’t a front-line fighter, I want him to maintain the same kind of role that Nami has in the animanga. He’s the best navigator in the world!! I couldn’t decide if I wanted to change the violent tendencies that Nami has, but ultimately I think he’d still give the more deserving members of the crew a healthy wallop (although I might portray it more cartoonishly). Boy Piece!Nami still grew up under Arlong’s authority so he spent a lot of his childhood walking on eggshells to protect his village and his brother, Nojiko, so I think he never really got to learn “you’re not supposed to hit people just because they frustrate you” lesson. I gave him a shark-tooth necklace because surely Arlong had a few loose teeth to spare once Luffy took her down. Victory spoils LOL
If he can get the girls to stop wrestling and sit down quietly for a while, he likes to host card games (with betting, of course) or watch the clouds while sipping whatever fruity cocktail Sanji whips up. I believe that Canon!Nami is a total lesbian, and I can’t possibly envision a Nami who doesn’t like women so Boy Piece!Nami is bi. I am, of course, a Namivivi truther and Vivi is also a man in this AU. I don’t hate Sanami within this dynamic though… lots to think about.
Okay!!! All-shipper mindset aside, let’s talk Robin. I gave him long hair because 1) it’s hot and 2) I think it makes him look like Dragon. Yeahhh, I subscribe to the Luffy and Robin are half-siblings theory because I think it’s funny and makes some sense. Crocodile is 100% Luffy’s Mom in this AU and I think Robin knows it LOL
For his outfits, I wanted to lean a bit more Indiana Jones where I could; he’s still primarily cowboy inspired though. For the main look, I went with the Skypeia color palette hehe, I think Robin looks good in yellow. I did some flower-petal shaped color blocking on his chaps because I think it’s cute and subtle. I really love that the powers of the Hana-Hana-no-mi are like… unexpected for a “flower flower” fruit and I think Robin would be more aware that juxtaposition as a guy. You might also be wondering about the gloves and I initially just had it for his cowboy look but I decided to put them on all the outfits up until the events of Enies Lobby. Canon!Robin has a really difficult childhood and I think it’s exacerbated by the fact that she’s a girl on her own. If Robin was a boy, he’d probably have an easier time living on his own but would be a lot less emotionally open. All of these elements combine to make him want that physical barrier between his real hands and the world. Once he can trust that the Strawhats will always be there for him, he’s more willing to be more physically open.
I also think it’d be cute if he was much more of a coffee drinker :3c I see Canon!Robin as a connoisseur who likes a well-brewed espresso but Boy Piece!Robin needs a cup of joe (no matter its quality) every chance he can get. So I drew him with his special #1 ARCHAEOLOGIST mug.
It would make me so happy if you left your thoughts in the tags or replies!! Even if you hate everything about them, I just really like engagement hahaha. I’m thinking girl Usopp is next despite the poll results because she’s on my mind rn (don’t hold me to this, LOL I’m fickle). I’m making these for fun so I just wanna make designs in the order that interests me the most. Check out the tag “girl piece” on my blog to see all the genderbends I have so far. And happy pride!!!
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rin-may-1103 · 1 day
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The Wrong Robin Au (part three)
Previous | Next
Danny never said he knew what he was doing, but he thinks he's doing something right if the kid hasn't started crying yet. so you know, that's great. now, he just needed to get the kid out of here, so Danny could have a moment to mourn his retirement plans.
He wasn't going to blame the kid, ancients know Danny would have gone back to hero work eventually. He just couldn't let things go if he could help it, and he could in this situation.
"Alright, here's the plan." Danny announced, slapping his legs as he stood up. "it's late, you're a kid who needs sleep. let's get you home, then we can get a game plan on how to do this."
Tim had been nodding his head, even if it was reluctantly, before freezing in sudden realization. Danny raised his eyebrow in question, wondering what was wrong now.
"you want my help?" Tim asked, absolutely gobsmacked.
Oh, the kid thought Danny was just going to send him away like any reasonable adult would. Ha, Danny wished. but no. He had no clue what he was doing and this kid was his only trump card for making any of the half-assed plans still forming in his head work. AND he had a feeling if he didn't keep Tim close by, the kid would run off and do something stupid.
"Yep," Danny snorted, "you were smart enough to figure out who Batman was, and then you decided to take it upon yourself to help him; whether by convincing me to do it or yourself."
"Now then," Danny said as he walked over to the couch and pulled his hoodie from under Sam. Sam, to her credit, told him to fuck off and went back to snoring. Tucker, somehow having heard her, responded with a 'Go fuck yourself'.
Shaking his head, Danny turned back to Tim. "Let's get going. It's-" Danny turned to look at the clock, his eyes narrowing when he found it; 4 am. The kid was up and coherent enough to try and blackmail someone into being Robin at four in the morning. "-four. you seriously need to get some sleep kid. It's a school night." actually, what day was it???
Tim rolled his eyes but started to follow Danny out the door. "It's Saturday, and I've stayed up longer," he grumbled.
Danny snorted, "So have I, but we still need to sleep." He should probably try and prevent the kid from staying up longer than he should. Danny knows what years of not sleeping properly does to someone. The kid's obsessed with Batman and Robin, right? He'll just use them then.
"Robin needs all the sleep he can get. Otherwise, Batman will bench him. If Robin is benched, then who is out there helping Batman?" That's convincing, right? Does Batman even have the power to bench Robin? From the sounds of it, Robin is his kid's vigilante name. Which means he totally has the power to ground them.
Wait...
If Danny was going to be Robin, does that mean Batman would think he's his kid?
Oh, hell naw. He was not going to be adopted by another fruitloop! If Bruce Wayne even thinks about it, Danny will be out of there so fast even the Flash couldn't stop him.
Tim stumbled, his eyes wide in surprise. "Really?" he asks, turning to look at Danny in horror. Danny blinked, brain failing to remember why the kid would be surprised.
shit, what were they talking about?? Robin... It's four am... Right!
"Yep," Danny chirped, leading the kid to his car. "Now, I know everyone says not to get into a stranger's car and all that jazz, but it's the only way I'm getting you home. So, hop in."
Tim didn't even hesitate to jump into the passenger seat, pulling the seat belt across his chest. Danny stared at him for a second, before opening the car door and sitting down.
"kid, you do know you're not supposed to get into strangers' cars, right?" Danny asked, closing the door and buckling up. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his keys and started the engine.
"Well, yeah?" Tim replied, turning to face him, "But you're not a stranger. You're Robin. You protect people not hurt them."
and well? Danny can't argue with that, now, can he?
"Right, fine. Just promise not to get into strangers' cars. I don't care how much you think you know about them. It's not safe, and you could get hurt."
Tim hummed, thinking about it for a moment before nodding his head. "Yeah, alright. I promise."
"good." Danny sighed, turning to look at the road to see if it was clear. then he sighed again, "Don't tell strangers where you live, please."
Tim looked at him in amusement, a small smile spreading across his face. "Drake manor. 1015 Mountain Drive. It's in the Crest Hill community."
"You're killing me here, kid." Danny groaned, hitting his head against the steering wheel. Then he slowly lifted his head and turned to stare at Tim, "Kid. How the hell did you get all the way over here? Mountain Drive is all the way over in Bristol??? That's, like, twelve miles outside of city limits?"
"I have my ways."
Danny narrowed his eyes, "You bribed someone, didn't you."
Tim looked away from him, fiddling with his fingers.
sighing, Danny sat up and started driving down the road. They sat in silence for a while, just listening to the chaos that was Gotham City as they drove. Tim eventually slumped over, his head resting against the window.
It took a good thirty minutes before Danny could turn onto the bridge out of town. The traffic wasn't heavy, just the occasional car here and there. It was almost peaceful.
"Turn here," Tim suddenly instructed, startling Danny.
"Tim!" Danny cried, turning to look at the kid, then back at the road. although, he did do as the kid instructed. "don't do that! you'll give me a heart attack or something! Ancients!"
Tim blinked, then shrugged. "ok," he yawned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
"my house is the one with really stupid-looking ducks carved into the gates." Tim supplied, waving his hand at the road ahead of them. "Bruce's is the one with bats, but you knew that."
"Right," Danny agreed. What were the chances that Batman happened to live in a place called Gotham and in a house with black iron gates covered in bats? It was almost as coincidental as Danny's last name sounding like Phantom. Fate really had quite the sense of humor, didn't they?
after they passed a few more dirt roads, Tim pointed at a specific one, "Turn here. The gates a little further back than everyone else's."
Danny hummed, turning the car onto the road. What was his life at this point? Driving children to their huge houses at four-thirty in the morning? agreeing to become Robin? coming out of retirement because a kid asked him to?
Bruce Wayne better appreciate all the effort this kid was going through...
A tall gate slowly popped into view, making Danny slow the car down until he could stop right in front of it. "Alright, kid. You're home. get some sleep. Go to school, I don't know, what do you rich kids do on the weekends? actually, you know what? It doesn't matter, do you have a phone?"
Tim blinked as he slowly unbuckled, "yes?"
"One that's not monitored by your parents or anyone else?"
"..."
Danny sighed, reaching into his back pocket to pull out his phone. "Here," Danny unlocked it, went to settings and pressed the factory rest option. Once the phone finished the reset, he quickly scanned through it to make sure it was all gone before adding his second phone number. once done, he tossed it over to the kid. "here, should work for now. Don't let anyone else have it."
If this was any other situation, Danny would have gone straight to the kid's parents; but considering it was past four in the morning and there wasn't a city-wide amber alert? He has a feeling the kid needs a safety net, and well? What better than a direct line to him?
"I can't just take your phone!" Tim cried, catching the phone before it could fall to the ground.
"It's my backup one. I tend to break my phone pretty often, so I always keep an extra one on me. my current number is saved on it, you can reach out and get in contact with me now." Danny waved off the kid's concern, reaching into the back of the car to grab a bag.
with how often his phone had broken during ghost fights and how frequently his parents dissected his phone for parts? It's a habit at this point to have a backup. or Ten. Pulling the bag to the front, Danny showed the kid what was inside.
"..." Tim blinked, then looked up at Danny. "why do you have a bag of broken phones in your car?"
"Because my phones keep breaking and I figured it would be easier to just keep them for extra parts than toss them. Now," Danny tossed the bag into the back, ignoring how it tipped over and spilled the contents all over the seat. He'd clean it up later. Maybe. "It's early. You need sleep, I need sleep. We can pick another day to sit down and build a game plan."
Tim sat in silence for a moment, staring at the phone in his hands, before glancing up at Danny. "You really mean it?" he asked, turning the phone around anxiously, "you really want my help?"
"kid, Tim," Danny started, tilting his head so he could make eye contact. "with how bad you say Batman's gotten? I'm going to need all the help I can get. Who better than the one who went out of his way to try and actually do something about it?"
Tim's eyes watered as he looked back at the phone. "ok," he whispered, nodding his head. Reaching up, he wiped his face clean before taking a deep breath and letting it out.
"ok," he repeated, voice stronger now. "I'll help. I want to."
"Good," Danny nodded in agreement, then smiled. "get some sleep kid, you need it."
"I don't need it," Tim grumbled, turning to open the door and get out. "but if that's what it takes for you to allow me to help, then I guess I can take a nap or something."
Danny snorted, watching as Tim closed the car door and started making his way to the gate.
as soon as the kid was out of view, Danny slammed his head onto the steering wheel and groaned. He had definitely jinxed himself earlier. How hard can being Ribin be? Yeah right. He hasn't even gotten to meet Bruce yet and he's already stressed.
...
Glancing up, Danny watched as the clock glitched then turned to five am.
...
Well then, he might as well do something productive since it was unlikely he'd be getting any more sleep if he went back. Sam would be up by the time he got there, which meant he'd have to answer all of her questions... which would wake Tucker up, which would mean Danny'd have to explain all over again.
Glancing around, Danny suddenly realized something.
Batman.
Bruce Wayne was Batman.
Bruce Wayne; as in, Gotham's own himbo billionaire.
Who lives in Bristol.
Which is where he is right now. Logically speaking, he'd be able to find it pretty fast if he just looked at the gates. It's probably just a few houses from Tim's too, now that he thought about it...
Oh, this was a terrible idea, but when had that ever stopped Danny?
Jazz was so going to kill him for this.
Next
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jayssluttywife · 3 days
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Never Have I Ever | Jake Sim
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౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪"you sure you a virgin, baby?"
synopsis: You play a game called 'Never Have I Ever' a popular TV show with a cute boy named Jake in hopes of finding your true love. During the game, he figures out some cute things about you.
Your a... virgin?
warnings: protected sex,(FINALLY, I MADE IT HAPPEN), kissing, biting, make-outs, jake and y/n are famous but not k-pop way (like tiktokers or smth), you really trust each other, pet names ?, little degrading, and size kink scattered everywhere if u squint <3, mature topic and jokes, y/n is a virgin but she like INexperienced, you get me?
{☆} I don't like this so i might delete it if you guys don't like it.🤷🏽‍♀️
As you impatiently settled into your seat, the camera set pulled a thumbs-up. Your heart was racing with anticipation, and you couldn't wait for the show to begin. You felt the cameras flash and suddenly, your attention was diverted as a tall, handsome boy entered the room. His smile was infectious, and you feel drawn to him. As he walked over to his seat, you found yourself stealing glances in his direction.
"Hey, I'm Jake", he says and sticks out his veiny hands for a handshake. You smile and extend your hand, introducing yourself as "y/n". His hands are big and pretty compared to yours, which are small and neatly painted. His hands feel warm and soft as you shake them.
You were each given cards with questions to ask each other. If a question was too personal, the person would take a shot of a strong drink instead. The hope was that these shots would lead to revealing secrets unintentionally.
Which wasn't needed for you two.
#take 1
It has been about 20 minutes into the game, and you and Jake are really getting along[!]
It seems like you two connected straight away and wouldn't stop trying to make the other one blush. You even managed to sneak a hand under his thigh and caught him looking a bit too long, down your chest.
#take 2
"Never have I ever had a wet dream about someone I liked" he puts his hand on his chin, pretending to think. He writes on his board 'Not yet' and you question him.
"I'm probably going to have some about you tonight", he bites his lip, surprising you with his words. You cover your face, which is turning bright red, with your hands. Now it's his turn to laugh at you.
'ok last question !'
You squeal silently in your seat, kicking your feet as you start speaking again. "Never have I ever had proper sex" you laugh as if you don't know the answer.
"Well, I have" he sits up from his seat, cocking a brow as if he was asking you something "have you?".
Your face slightly burns up as you look down "No.."
Oh, he found you so cute, almost popped a boner. You were just so perfect, short, tiny, pretty, adorable, and most importantly, a virgin.
His teeth sunk into his bottom lip as he watched you have a moment of shock.
The room lit up with bright lights as 'victory' music played. You guys had won the game, and you were awarded the title of the cutest couple on the show.
You were both stood up, and you looked at him as he intertwined ur fingers slowly walking off the set.
౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪
Oh, flip. You are having your first date with Jake, and you're trembling, not confident like you always are. You have gotten your nails done with French tips, and it's making it worse, as you can't get a stand of hair pulled back.
You curse to yourself, about to throw a tantrum while rushing to find a hairbrush, but it's okay; y/n always wins in the end.
You let out a loud huff as you looked at yourself again, practising different smiles for when you see him. Finally, you leave your house, enter your Uber, and reach the café in under 10 minutes.
I couldn't finish it right now, but obviously..
part 2?
(ill tag you if you reblog and comment!)
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edenesth · 3 days
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TWTHH Spinoff: Written in the Stars [1]
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Pairing: military strategist!Mingi x royal physician!reader
AU: historical au (Joseon era)
Word Count: 5.5k
Summary: Mingi had spent countless years searching for the angel who saved his life when he was on the verge of death. He believed god was on his side when she finally reappeared before him, but she was now so near yet so far, so unobtainable. No longer just a young medical trainee, she had become an esteemed royal physician—a woman working within the palace walls. And what did that mean? It meant she now belonged to His Majesty.
A/N: As stated in the title, this is a spinoff. If you have yet to check out the main story, it's probably better to read that before starting this.
Main Story | Spinoff Masterlist | Part 2
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"Hey, hey, hey, look at me. Just focus on me, okay? You can hear me, right?" a sweet, gentle female voice called out, followed by a soft touch on his cheek. Mingi forced his eyes open in disbelief—how could a woman be in the war zone? As he cracked his eyes open, he was breathless at the sight of a beautiful angel before him.
You smiled in relief, cupping his face delicately. "That's right. Everything will be okay. I'll make all the pain go away. Just stay with me, soldier. Can you do that?"
He nodded weakly, his once weakening heartbeat now pounding in his chest. "A-anything for you, my lady…"
"Quite a flirt, aren't you?" you teased, reassured that he was still well enough to be playful. He was the most critical soldier on site, and you had been immediately assigned to him as soon as you and a team of medical experts arrived to treat the injured soldiers.
Your breath had hitched when you first saw him, your heart nearly stopping at the sight of the blood caking his body, a huge gash on his abdomen, and countless other cuts. Without wasting a second, you settled beside him and did everything you could to keep him conscious. He was losing too much blood, and if he remained unconscious any longer, you might lose him. For now, you had no choice but to multitask by treating him and keeping him distracted.
Anything to keep him awake.
"N-no, only for you…" he croaked, and you breathed out a laugh, your hands busy cleaning his wounds, unfazed by his bare upper body. Sure, he had a great physique, but so did most soldiers around here and many other patients you'd treated. His clichéd and sweet words were also nothing new to you. Patients delirious from blood loss often behaved this way.
He held onto your hand when the stinging pain became a little too unbearable as you cleaned the open wound that was still bleeding profusely. You placed your other hand gently over his, stroking his skin in an attempt to comfort him. "It's okay, soldier. I know it hurts, but it will be alright."
With care, you slowly moved his hand back to his side before continuing. You could feel his awed gaze fixed on you, but you didn't mind; it meant he was conscious, and that was all you needed. Through a sharp wince, he choked out, "W-when this is all over, will you please allow me the h-honour of courting you, my lady?"
You raised an eyebrow in amusement, shaking your head in disbelief at his bold question. No matter how flirty other soldiers could get, none had ever dared to ask to court you. This was a first. With a shrug, you decided perhaps a little white lie wouldn't hurt too much.
"We'll talk about it when you're fully recovered. How's that sound?"
Smiling weakly through his pain, he nodded. "Sounds wonderful."
You continued tending to his wounds, your touch gentle but efficient. Despite the gravity of his injuries, he kept his eyes on you, drawing strength from your presence. The battlefield around you faded as you focused entirely on keeping him alive.
Minutes felt like hours, but finally, the worst was over. You had cleaned and dressed his wounds, stopping the bleeding and stabilising him for now. You leaned back, wiping the sweat from your brow, and gave him a reassuring smile.
"There, all done. You just need to rest and let your body heal."
He nodded, exhaustion evident in his eyes, but there was a glimmer of hope as well. "Thank you… for everything."
You patted his shoulder. "Just doing my job. Now, get some rest."
As you stood up to move on to the next patient, you couldn't help but glance back at him. His eyes were closed, his breathing steady. Shaking your head, you reminded yourself that it was just his delirium speaking. No man would want to court a lady simply after taking a single glance at her. He didn't know you well enough to feel that way. He would probably forget all about you by the time he was healed.
The same way you would forget him.
Only you were completely wrong about that. The first thing Mingi thought about when he regained consciousness was you. He lay in bed for weeks afterwards, with different physicians checking on him regularly, but never the angel who had saved him from moving on to the afterlife, the one who had comforted him during the most excruciating pain he had ever experienced.
When he tried to ask for you, he realised he didn't even know your name or designation. He had no information about you other than that you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen—a description not very helpful for others to identify you.
Just like the wind, you were gone.
He never saw you again, but that was when his search for you began. He remained hopeful even as years passed. He didn't know why he was so fixated on one woman he knew nothing about. But you weren't just another woman. You were the one who saved his life, the first one he had the courage to ask out, and most importantly, you hadn't said no to him yet.
So that had to mean something. He must have a chance; he just needed to find you.
Even when all his friends, family, colleagues, and nearly the whole world called him a fool for being so hung up on someone he had only met once, someone he might never see again, he refused to give up. As a soldier and now a military strategist, he rarely interacted with women, and even when he did, they were often intimidated by his appearance and put off by his dangerous job. They rarely saw him as a marriage prospect.
That was why he couldn't move on from you. Your delicate treatment all those years ago had left an indelible mark on his heart. He could still remember every single touch of your fingertips on his skin, and he longed to have you close again.
His colleagues would laugh, calling him a fool. "You're chasing a ghost," they said. "She might not even be real." But Mingi knew better. He had felt your touch, heard your voice, and seen the kindness in your eyes. You were real, and you were out there somewhere. You had to be.
He devoted every spare moment to finding you, combing through records and speaking to anyone who might have known the medical trainees from that time. His friends often found him lost in thought, staring out into the distance, clearly fixated on a memory that had become his driving force, always looking for 'his one.'
When he finally found you again, he didn't expect it to be again in the war zone, where the conflict with Ruhon had just ended and the injured General Park was absent. He remembered hearing your delicate voice stand out amidst the sea of men blocking your way as you firmly tried to push through, unfazed by the soldiers surrounding you—a quality he greatly admired.
"Forgive us, ma'am. Women are not permitted here," one of the soldiers explained. Mingi recalled pushing through the crowd to hear your response: "Yes, I know that, but you don't understand. I'm here on His Majesty's orders. We received word that General Park has been poisoned, and I've been sent specifically to treat him."
I finally found you, my one.
At that moment, seeing you again was all that mattered. You were all he could see and hear. He was so fixated on the fact that you were right in front of him that he hadn't yet processed the implication of you being a royal female physician.
None of that was important as he cleared his throat, his deep voice booming across the space. "Let her through."
"But sir, the general isn't even here—"
The military strategist sighed. "I said let the lady through, soldier."
"Y-yes, sir."
He basked in your appreciative smile as the crowd finally dispersed, allowing you space to breathe and enter the camp after what felt like an eternity of being stranded outside. You had travelled far and long, and the last thing you needed was to be asked to return to the palace without a proper explanation. You had been sent to treat the poisoned military general—how could you explain to His Majesty if you returned empty-handed?
Following the tall man who politely introduced himself as General Officer Song, you immediately knew who he was. He was a renowned military strategist, the only one competent enough to be acknowledged by the great General Park Seonghwa.
"Thank you for intervening," you said, matching his brisk pace.
"Not a problem. It's an honour to have you here," he replied, his voice steady and respectful. "Royal Physician...?"
Your eyes widened in realisation at your lack of self-introduction. "Oh, how rude of me for not introducing myself. Please address me as Royal Physician Ahn."
"It's nice to meet you, Royal Physician Ahn," he said, pausing for a moment to take in your appearance, hoping you might recognise him. His heart sank slightly when you merely returned his smile courteously. "Pleasure to meet you as well, General Officer Song. Now, if you'll just take me to the general."
He chuckled, shaking his head. "He's not here, my lady."
You halted your steps. "Wh-what do you mean he's not here?"
He gestured to the main tent, beckoning for you to follow. "Please, I'll explain everything."
As you walked side by side, you couldn't help but feel a sense of familiarity and comfort around him, though you couldn't quite place it. Little did you know, the man beside you had been searching for you since that fateful day, driven by a memory that had never faded. And now, with you by his side, he was determined not to let you slip away again.
Except that might not be his choice to make.
"Don't you ever regret becoming a woman of the palace, unnie? I mean, look at that—it must be nice to be in love," Subin, your colleague and childhood friend, said as she nudged your shoulder, nodding toward the second prince and his wife. They were the only royal couple so far to marry out of love and not duty, and the two were taking a stroll in the nearby cherry blossom garden.
You shook your head with a small smile. "We've been over this, Subin-ah. Love is a luxury for people like us. Besides, we now belong to His Majesty, and nothing can change that. Watch your words and don't let anyone catch you saying things like that."
As much as you agreed with her and thought it would be nice to have someone to love and be loved in return, you knew there was no point in dwelling on the impossible. Any chance of that was taken away from the moment you both decided to pursue careers as royal physicians. Not that you had much of a choice—both you and Subin were orphaned at a young age, the only survivors of a plague-ridden village that had claimed your families.
Left with nothing, you had begged the exhausted medical practitioners, who were struggling to treat as many infected people as they could at that time, to take you both in, promising to work in any way you could as payment. Feeling sympathetic and touched by your determination, they agreed, and you grew up as apprentices to these struggling physicians, promising to repay them when you were older. And you did, by signing up to enter the palace. It was the most successful path for any medical practitioner, and with your income, the dingy clinic run by your saviours could finally survive steadily.
However, this success came at a price.
Palace rules dictated that any woman working within belonged to the King. In other words, you were his property. Once you held an official position within the palace, you could never marry or have children unless it was with His Majesty himself, if one was lucky—or unlucky enough—depending on how one viewed it. Most palace women would work until their death and be buried within the palace walls. Only in rare and special cases were some granted the privilege to retire and leave the palace to live out the rest of their lives as they pleased.
You sighed, looking at your friend. "As much as I understand what you're saying, we both know there's no point in dreaming about it. Our path was set the moment we chose this life. Love, marriage, children—those things are not for us."
She nodded slowly, her eyes reflecting a mixture of resignation and understanding. "I know, unnie. It's just... sometimes I wonder what it would be like, you know? To have someone who cares about you, who is willing to take care of you, who loves you."
You placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "We have each other, and we have our duty. That's enough. It has to be."
She smiled weakly. "You're right. We made a choice, and we've helped so many people because of it. We should be proud of that."
"We should," you agreed, squeezing her shoulder gently. "And who knows? Maybe one day, we'll be among the lucky few who get to retire and live out the rest of our lives outside these walls."
Subin chuckled softly, finally moving and continuing the trek back to the royal medical hall. "A girl can dream, right?"
"Indeed, my dearest," you said, returning her smile. "A girl can dream."
Meanwhile, Mingi couldn't stop replaying the events of that day—finally seeing you again. He had sat you down and reassured you that the war with Ruhon had ended and that the general was already home, being taken care of by his own family doctor. Once you calmed down, relieved, Mingi began asking you multiple questions under the guise of courtesy, secretly hoping to see if you recognised him.
"How long have you been a royal physician, my lady?" he asked, his eyes keenly observing your reaction.
"Quite a few years now," you replied, sinking into your seat and relaxing at the pleasant news about the nerve-wracking war and the general's safety. "It's been a challenging but rewarding journey."
He nodded and smiled warmly, happy to ease your worries. "I can imagine. You must have treated many patients over the years."
"Yes, many," you said, your gaze distant for a moment as you recalled the countless faces. "Each one leaves a mark, in a way."
His heart sank slightly at your words, realising that he was likely just one of those many faces. "You must have seen some incredible recoveries," he continued, trying to keep the conversation going.
"Indeed, I have," you agreed, your expression softening. "It's always a blessing to see someone recover, to know you've made a difference."
His disappointment was palpable, though he masked it well. You didn't show any signs of recognising him, but he figured it must be because he was only one of many patients you had treated. But you were here now, and that was all that mattered to him. He resolved to work hard to help you remember him, to gain your trust, and most importantly, to earn your affection.
"You know," he said, his tone light and conversational, "it's rare to find someone as dedicated as you. We're lucky to have you."
You smiled modestly. "Thank you, General Officer Song. It's an honour to serve His Majesty and the people."
He leaned in slightly, his eyes sincere. "The world certainly needs more people like you, Royal Physician Ahn."
"I'm glad you think so," you said, feeling a surprising sense of comfort in his presence.
Mingi couldn't wipe the smile off his face as he recalled how you had eventually allowed him to escort you from the war site back to the palace. You hadn't rejected him, and that must mean something. It must mean he had a chance. It must—
"Look, hyung, I know you're happy you finally found her, but you do realise she's off-limits, right?" said Junghoon, his apprentice and close friend. The younger man shook his head at the military strategist's dreamy expression that had persisted on his face ever since reuniting with his dream girl.
Mingi's smile faltered slightly, but he quickly recovered. "Off-limits...?"
His apprentice raised an eyebrow. "She's a royal physician. You know the rules as well as I do. Don't tell me you forgot palace women are the King's property. They're not allowed to marry or have relationships outside of what His Majesty permits."
Mingi's expression turned more serious, though the light in his eyes didn't diminish. "I know the rules, Junghoon-ah. But I also know that nothing is truly impossible. Exceptions have been made before."
Junghoon sighed, clearly concerned. "You're playing a dangerous game, hyung. I just don't want to see you get hurt."
The military strategist nodded, appreciating his friend's worry. "I understand your concern. But she means more to me than just a fleeting interest. I've been looking for her ever since that day, and now that I've found her, I can't just let her go again."
Junghoon studied his mentor's determined expression for a moment before nodding slowly. "If you say so. Just be careful. You know the palace can be a ruthless place."
Mingi smiled again, more determined than ever. "I will, Junghoon-ah. Thanks for looking out for me, my friend."
The younger man patted him on the shoulder. "Always, hyung. Always."
Officer Song's smile weakened as soon as his apprentice left. Truth be told, the realisation that you were now a royal physician weighed heavily on him. He understood exactly what that meant. Under the reign of any unreasonable king, Mingi would never have dared to continue his pursuit. But he knew His Majesty was one of the kindest rulers Joseon had ever seen. While he wasn't exactly confident that things would go his way, he would be damned if he gave up without giving it his all first.
The reality of you being a woman of the palace was disheartening, but it didn't deter his determination to fight for you. He knew it was foolish, but that was the thing about love—it made people do stupid things. He leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling, lost in thoughts of you.
His mind wandered back to the moment he first saw you again, the way you had smiled at him, the relief in your eyes when he reassured you. Those memories fueled his resolve. He had spent years searching for you, and now that he had found you, he couldn't let palace rules stand in his way.
As he sat there, the light from the setting sun casting long shadows in his room, he made a silent vow to himself. He would approach His Majesty, present his case with honesty and respect, and hope for the best. The King's kindness gave him a sliver of hope, and he clung to it with all his might.
Mingi knew the risks, knew the odds were against him, but he also knew that love was worth fighting for. He took a deep breath, his determination solidifying into a plan. No matter how impossible it seemed, he was ready to do whatever it took to be with you.
But the challenges were proving more difficult than he had imagined.
"General Officer Song, are you hearing yourself? Do you realise what you are asking of me? What would the people of this nation think if I were to give in to the whims of my men so easily? Rules are established for a reason," His Majesty said strictly.
Mingi lowered his head, sinking to his knees and bowing deeply to express his sincerity. He knew he could have gone to Seonghwa about this, and the general, being the King's favourite, would have easily helped him. But the military strategist didn't want to rely on or exploit his friend's connection. This was his love story, and it was something he needed to accomplish on his own.
He tried to keep his voice steady as he continued speaking. "I know this must be an incredibly outrageous request, Your Majesty. I wouldn't have taken the risk to come here and ask this if my feelings for Royal Physician Ahn were not genuine. I implore you, my King, I am serious about my intentions to court her."
The elderly ruler sighed, leaning back on his throne and rubbing his forehead. "Officer Song, if you think you are the first to come to me with such a request, I assure you, you are not. I'm aware I am considered one of the most benevolent rulers of Joseon, but my kindness is not to be taken advantage of."
Mingi's eyes widened, and he quickly shook his head. "No, Your Majesty! I would never—"
The King raised a hand to stop him. "Let me finish, Officer Song. I know you believe you are in love, but many others have thought the same. I have granted opportunities to pursue what they call love, only for them to turn out to be mistakes. You are young, and you will meet more women who are available and more well-suited for you. Don't let your temporary feelings misguide your actions. Trust me, you will move on and forget about her before you know it."
However, the elderly ruler was unsurprised to see his words only igniting greater determination in the young man's eyes. Mingi parted his lips, prepared to protest and prove His Majesty wrong, but the elderly man waved him off. "Stubborn as always. Fine, if you are so determined to pursue this, I will allow you the opportunity to realise I am correct. Love is a two-way street and cannot flourish with only one side invested. Go ahead and do your best then. Let's see if Royal Physician Ahn will even reciprocate your feelings. She is one of my most dedicated staff members; we'll see if you can sway her resolve."
Although the King's words were intended to discourage him, Mingi was relieved it wasn't a flat-out rejection. This meant he still had hope, a chance to win your heart and make you his. Bowing deeply, he exclaimed, "Your grace is immeasurable, Your Majesty! I wish you ten thousand years of life and reign!"
In the days that followed his conversation with His Majesty, the military strategist became consumed with thoughts of getting closer to you without appearing too forward. Even during his daily training, his mind wandered, preoccupied with strategies for approaching you subtly. So, when a blunt practice sword collided with his arm, he let out a yelp of pain, jolting back to reality. Though the sword was dull, it still left a small wound and a bruise that was sure to darken over time from the impact.
Junghoon cursed and dropped his weapon, rushing to his mentor's side. "Why didn't you dodge?! You're such an idiot sometimes!"
Mingi winced, cradling his arm. "I was just... thinking of ways to approach her subtly."
Junghoon raised a sceptical eyebrow, shaking his head lightly. "Well, here's the perfect opportunity. You're injured, so go to the medical hall to be treated by her."
"Oh, that's an amazing idea!"
"Yeah, it's not exactly rocket science—"
"You're brilliant, Junghoon-ah! Thanks, dinner's on me!" Mingi exclaimed excitedly, dashing off towards the royal medical hall.
The younger man shrugged, watching his mentor run off with an amused grin. "Huh, I guess I am a genius."
Mingi struggled to calm his racing heart, his mind reeling with all sorts of scenarios that could unfold. He thought about what to say to start a conversation, to get to know you better, to make you remember him—
"Whoa there, watch your step!"
His breath hitched as you appeared right before him, your arms reaching out to steady him by the shoulders. He couldn’t utter a word from the shock and embarrassment. Meanwhile, you were focused on the area of his arm he was clutching, noticing the cloth slowly turning red from the blood seeping through. Your eyes widened.
"Oh my gosh, you're bleeding! Come inside, quickly!" you exclaimed.
The military strategist sighed in relief, realising you were too preoccupied with his injury to notice how foolish he felt. He couldn't take his eyes off you, his mouth hanging open like a fish out of water, suddenly forgetting how to speak.
Pull yourself together, you idiot!
All his plans for starting a conversation flew out the window as he fought to maintain his composure throughout his visit. Though he had shared conversations with you while escorting you back to the palace from the war zone, he hadn't been this close to you in a long time. The last time was during your first meeting, and he had been too numb from blood loss to properly register your touch. Now, he was acutely aware of your proximity as he sat on one of the many beds in the hall, with you settled by his side, checking the tray before you and ensuring you had everything you needed.
"Now, it would be great if you could just lift your arm a little," you murmured.
He nodded and complied, too afraid that his voice would tremble like a nervous schoolboy if he spoke. Carefully, you rolled his sleeve up to his shoulder and assessed the small wound already surrounded by a darkening bruise, your touch gentle.
"Don't worry, Officer Song. I'll make sure this doesn't leave a scar," you said reassuringly.
He smiled shyly, nodding appreciatively. If only you knew what your presence was doing to him and his poor little heart. The warmth of your hands on his skin and the soothing tone of your voice made his pulse quicken. He struggled to think of something to say, something that wouldn't reveal just how flustered he felt.
As you cleaned the wound and applied a salve, his thoughts raced. He wanted to find the right words, something that would spark a meaningful conversation. But the words seemed to stick in his throat whenever he opened his mouth. He watched you work, mesmerised by your concentration and the care you put into treating him.
"Thank you, Royal Physician Ahn," he finally managed to say, his voice steady but soft. "For everything."
You looked up and smiled warmly. "It's my duty, Officer Song. But you're welcome."
That smile, he thought, was worth all the awkwardness and nervousness he felt. It gave him hope and determination. He wasn't going to give up. Not now, not ever.
Determined to make up for his failed attempt to talk to you, Mingi returned to the medical hall nearly every day for the next week, each time presenting a minor cut or bruise. He knew he wasn't being very subtle, but it didn't matter. He needed you to understand his heart before seeing if you could feel the same, if he stood any chance at all. However, he slowly realised he was getting nowhere if he couldn't openly express his interest and sincerity in courting you.
Sensing his struggles, Royal Secretary Choi could no longer sit by and watch his friend flounder. Truthfully, San had learned about the military strategist's pursuit of one of the palace's most recognised female physicians from His Majesty himself, who had expressed his wish for Mingi to give up. But the royal secretary, being a man in love himself, understood the taller man's feelings better than anyone.
"You know, you can't keep going back to the medical hall, pretending to be sick or injured forever," San said, approaching and sitting down beside Mingi in one of the pavilions in the cherry blossom garden.
Officer Song's head shot up to see his friend before pressing his face into his palms. "How else can I approach her, San? There's only so much I can do. She's a palace woman, and I can't possibly make my intentions clear without His Majesty's permission."
San sighed and placed a hand on Mingi's shoulder. "Actually… you might have his permission, but you didn't hear it from me." The taller man's eyes widened, prompting his friend to elaborate.
The royal secretary continued, "His Majesty has a soft heart, as you know. While he discouraged you, deep down, he just doesn't want you to get hurt. He secretly hopes it all goes your way but wouldn't admit it. Listen, there's a banquet happening soon to celebrate our unity with Ruhon. Perhaps you could ask her to attend with you."
Mingi straightened up, eyes shining with hope. "I can do that...?"
San nodded slowly. "Technically, important figures like you and Royal Physician Ahn are encouraged to attend and show support. There's nothing wrong with a little networking, right? Besides, His Majesty is already aware of your intentions. If she agrees to go with you, this would be a huge step in your pursuit. Wouldn't you agree?"
Hell yeah, I do.
"You wanna bet he's gonna show up again soon?" Subin teased, smirking as you rolled your eyes and playfully smacked her on the arm. "Don't jinx it, just shut up and go on your lunch break already."
It had been a particularly hectic day with the arrival of envoys from Ruhon for the upcoming celebration. The influx of visitors sought remedies for their seasickness after enduring the boat journey, keeping all the royal physicians busy stocking up on medicine and treating the sudden rush of patients suffering from nausea. The last thing you needed was for Song Mingi to appear with another one of his tiny scratches, requesting attention.
You were silently hoping he wouldn't show up today, relishing in a moment of tranquillity as the lunch hour approached and most of the patients had been taken care of. The first batch of physicians, including Subin, would go to lunch while you and the second batch would stay back until they returned.
But alas, the peace was short-lived.
"Ooh, guess who's here again," your colleague remarked, nodding toward the entrance of the royal medical hall where a certain tall, handsome military strategist strode in for what felt like the thousandth time this week. You sighed, refusing to look up from your book. "Please tell me it's not him."
She gulped, watching him approach. "Hate to break it to you, but it is your not-so-secret admirer, General Officer Song."
"Good afternoon, ladies. I, uh… I'm here today because—" his familiar deep voice rang out as he paused at a respectful distance.
Clearing your throat, you finally closed your book and turned to face him with a courteous smile, finishing his sentence for him, "Good afternoon to you too, Officer Song. Let me guess, you're here because you got hurt during training again?"
Instead of the usual sheepish nod, he shook his head and nervously fiddled with his fingers. "No, actually… I came to ask if… i-if you would like to accompany me to the royal banquet celebrating Joseon's unity with Ruhon tonight, Royal Physician Ahn?"
You froze at his question, and your colleague mirrored your reaction. The two of you exchanged bewildered glances, trying to process the fact that this fool was openly pursuing you, a woman working in the palace, someone who belonged to the King.
Does he realise what he's doing?
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"Is that her? Your 'one'?" the general teased, nudging Mingi on the shoulder as they observed the royal physician conversing with Lady Park, who was now about five months into her pregnancy.
The military strategist blushed furiously, nodding. "Yes, that's her."
"Has His Majesty granted you permission to court her?" Seonghwa asked, and the younger man winced, shaking his head. "No, he hasn't. In fact, he told me to give up on my pursuit, convinced me it was merely infatuation and that it would eventually pass."
General Park frowned. "That can't be right. You've been searching for her for years. How is it that you've found your soulmate years before me yet still haven't won her over, while I'm already expecting a child with mine, Mingi-yah? Do you want me to speak with the King? I'm sure he'll understand."
Officer Song's response caught Seonghwa off guard as he shook his head. "It's okay, hyung-nim. I appreciate your offer to speak to His Majesty, but I want to handle this on my own. I don't want her to feel pressured to accept me. I want her to see my sincerity and decide for herself if she shares the same feelings. Then, I can show the King that this is worth pursuing, that she's worth it."
"Are you sure, my friend?"
"I've never been more sure of anything."
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You're probably shocked I'm posting on a Monday HAHA but it's another public holiday in Malaysia, yippee!
ASDFGHJKL 1.9k+ followers?! I'm not dreaming now, am I?😭 I love y'all so much, istg! Sorry, this first part took so long but I've been real busy the past week. I know a lot of y'all have been waiting for this, I sincerely hope this was decent!
As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3
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