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#but yeah i do try to make this blog as accessible as i know how to
palms-upturned · 2 years
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Gentle request that if u would like to add my tags to a post for whatever reason, pls copy/paste rather than taking a screenshot so that the post remains accessible to visually impaired users! If you’re on mobile and can’t copy/paste, I’m always happy to provide a transcription :]
#meg talks#i don’t wanna sound all high and mighty especially considering it’s really just been this past year that i’ve been learning abt these things#but yeah i do try to make this blog as accessible as i know how to#so i would prefer that if people are going to post my tags which are… err… a part of my blog i guess#then they pls do so in an accessible way#not that i ever mind reblogging and adding an image description#it’s not that it annoys me or smth#but if i do that then there’s still an inaccessible version of my post in the reblog chain#ppl might see the version w the screenshots but not my description#if that makes sense#coughs anyway#oh also aside from the fact that the text can be read by screen readers#there’s also the fact that users can to some degree customize the way text posts are displayed#to avoid eye strain or triggering migraines and such#but that’s not smth you can really do for images#a lot of the time i see tags screenshotted in day mode w the light gray text against the white background#for some ppl that’s quite hard to read#if not tiring/painful to try#personally at one point in 2020 i was so sick that even having my eyes open for very long was exhausting and painful#and this went on for A Long While#so i would have appreciated these kinds of things and still do when im dealing w migraines#also i just moved into an apartment and didn’t have wifi for like a week!!#image/video descriptions were super helpful bc a lot of the time nothing would load at all#tl;dr there’s lots of reasons someone might need a transcription
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dhoranbolt · 8 months
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You don't fool me
A/n: two thing- first this took me forever to write, I kept having to go back and scrap ideas 🥹 second, I did not know just how down bad I was for this man until I had to sit down and write this so.
Also friendly reminder- if your age isn't easily accessible on your profile I will not be tagging you! That said if you'd like a tag in future works let me know and I'll add you to the list!
bestie beta reader: @yukios-medic you are really the best ma'am I appreciate you so much 🥹💙💙💙
Pairing: Sukuna x fem!reader, Yuji pining
cw/tw: minors/ageless blogs DNI, all characters aged up, dub-con that becomes enthusiastic consent, unprotected sex, cream pie, fingering, oral sex (female receiving), oral sex (male receiving), rough sex, dirty talk, threats of killing
Word count: 5k (ish)
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This wasn't the first time they'd been paired up and sent off to find and kill a curse, but it was the first time Yuji was weary of the whole thing. They were both strong, that wasn't an issue – he'd been on back-to-back missions for weeks and it was starting to take its toll, that was the issue.
Of course, it didn't help that whenever he was around her, Sukuna would become an even bigger pain in the ass (than he already was).
They'd been sent to a long-abandoned warehouse, falling apart as it was, and radiating with cursed energy. Yep, whatever it was they were after was definitely in here.
"Split up to cover more ground?" She suggested as she looked up at him, but he shook his head.
"We can probably exorcize it quicker if we come across it at the same time, we should just stick together for now." It was a simple enough explanation, not a hint of 'I'm pushing my limits just being here with you' or 'it's easier to know you're safe if you're by my side' detectable.
To her, at least. Yuji chooses to ignore the scoff that resonates in his head as they cautiously enter the building. They walk side-by-side down the hallway, ears and eyes analyzing every detail of their surroundings.
"Must be one pain in the ass curse to send the both of us. I can feel the cursed energy everywhere, I just can't tell exactly where the source is." She filled the silence, wringing her hands together nervously.
"Yeah, I know what you mean. It’s out there, but it's all about the same output. We'll just have to watch our backs." Yuji said with a nod.
"Hey, what do you think Nobara did when she found out Gojo canceled movie night to send us after this one? I can see her practically popping a vein." She laughed softly, moving around a stack of boxes to find any sign of their curse.
"Fushiguro is probably wishing it was you that got left behind right about now." Yuji guessed with a small chuckle, suppressing the thought that he might have wished for it, too. A faint gurgle sounded at the opposite end of the hall, cursed energy seeping into every corner of their bodies as it grew closer.
Yuji covered her mouth with his hand, keeping her scream muffled as he tugged her against his chest and pulled them into the shadows.
"Shh, I think I hear something." He murmurs, squinting in the darkness. He doesn't feel the mouth form on his hand, not until her lips are moving against his palm as she makes a noise.
She's gagging; trying to pry Yuji's hand off her face. And he's going to – until Sukuna's voice rings in his head.
'Pull away and I'll bite her tongue off. Try to keep her quiet while she's drowning in her own blood'
Yuji froze as Sukuna cackled, and she still struggled in his grip, now like iron to keep the curse from making good on his threat.
His name was muffled when she frantically tried to call it, but it only left her mouth open that much more for Sukuna to swipe his tongue along the inside.
If they could conceal their own cursed energy for just a second, then it would keep going on its path to the left of them, and probably wouldn't circle back around for a while. Yuji set his jaw, glaring up the hall as he spoke.
"Conceal your energy, then we'll deal with him. One curse at a time." The only confirmation she gave that she heard him was slightly loosening her grip on his arm.
The curse slunk away and Yuji held his breath, waiting to hear any sign of it coming back. When he was sure it wasn’t, he let out a sigh and threw his head back against the wall. Taking a moment to realize the situation they were still in he looked down at her.
He couldn’t see the blush in her cheeks, but he could feel the heat on his fingers. She shifted her body against his, letting out a whimper at the awkward kiss she was still locked in.
Yuji swallowed hard and took a deep breath. This was so not the time to be letting the sounds she was making go straight to his cock.
'You want her so badly, take her.' Sukuna taunted.
"No." Yuji snapped his response, trying to think of a way out of this (and the boner he was starting to sport against her back).
'Fuck her, brat. Or I'll kill her the next time I get the chance, and I'll draw it out while I make you watch.'
Sukuna knew well what he was doing, keeping this conversation in Yuji's head. She had no clue what he was trying to shield her from. Of course he wanted her, but not like this. Not when Sukuna was all but forcing his hand on the matter, not even giving her a choice.
“I said no! Knock it off!” Sukuna just chuckled, and she turned her head to look up at him with worry in her eyes.
'Or perhaps you’d like me to put us both out of commission. Tell me, just how long do you think she’d last against this curse on her own?'
Yuji’s heart dropped to his stomach. There’s no way Sukuna hated her enough to let her die like this, not with the way he found her so entertaining to him. Not with the way he currently had his tongue down the back of her throat- right?
'No, but if it would cause you everlasting turmoil, I’d jump at the chance.'
Could she ever forgive him for doing this? Would Sukuna even drop this after all was said and done?
Yuji was exhausted, and Sukuna knew it too. It was only a matter of time before he could slip out and swap places.
'I could always assist instead. After all, one wrong move and she’s on her own anyways. Go ahead brat, ask me for my help.' He grinned.
“No, last time I let you out you were a dick.” Yuji snapped, but he was running out of options here. How long until that curse realized where they were and turned back around? He could always make a deal with Sukuna, if he would agree to it was another question though.
At the sound of Yuji’s words her body tensed, blood running cold. There was no way Yuji was actually thinking about letting the king of curses out into the wild, especially when he already had her in this position.
'Tic-toc punk ass, this offer isn’t going to last forever.'
“Promise you won’t hurt her first.” Her eyes went wide and she began to struggle in his grasp again, body going hot. Screaming through his palm and Sukuna’s tongue as well as she could manage in protest.
There is no way he’s about to offer his body over to Sukuna right now, and all she could think about were all the previous times he’d spoken to her – though, at her might be a better word. Everything he’d said up to this point, his promises to absolutely wreck her- all came flooding back. Could they really not handle this job any other way than to bring Sukuna into the mix?
'You humans are so predictable, really fucking takes the fun out of everything. I’ll get rid of the curse. Just say you aren’t strong enough, you need a real man to do your dirty work for you.'
“That’s not-”
'Going once…'
“I don’t-”
'Going TWICE...'
“Fine! I need your help, please.” She was hysterical at this point, thrashing in his grip as much as she could, grinding her ass into him harder every time she moved.
'That doesn’t sound like what we agreed to, try again.'
Yuji groaned, thankful he could use that as an excuse to let out some of his frustrations.
“Sukuna please, I’m not strong enough and need a real man to do my dirty work for me.” Yuji bit out, and she stilled at his words, stomach knotting. Any minute now, Sukuna would be breathing down her neck. Months of sexual tension, mostly from his side - would it finally come to a head now? Or would he leave it and just get the job done, let Yuji take back over when it was safe–
A low chuckle rumbled from behind her, and the sound ran straight through her body to her core. She swallowed, realizing the tongue down her throat had finally disappeared.
Sukuna ran a hand up her chest before resting it on her throat.
“Well, well, this is certainly a turn of events, isn’t it?” She whimpered, frozen in place. What the hell was she supposed to do now?
“Sukuna…” She breathed his name warily.
“Surprised to see me? I did tell you I’d have you some day. So, how was I? It’s been a few hundred years. You’ll have to excuse the fact I’m a little rusty.” Sukuna filled the silence, not waiting for an answer.
“You weren’t too bad yourself; I think I even felt you participating at the end. Care for more?” He whispered in her ear, tongue flicking out to lick her lobe. She bit back her moan, clamping her knees together as she gently rocked back into him. He laughed, moving his hands down her body to grip her hips and pull her in closer against him.
“Oh, don’t be shy now, it’s just us. The brat won’t even know, it can be our little secret.”
“I-” She stammered, face hot. So what if she’d gone back to her room at the end of a long day full of Sukuna teasing her, and closed her eyes while chanting his name under the sheets? So what if being the object of the king of curses’ endless teasing was what she used to push her over the edge some nights? That was all by her choice - she was in charge.
Currently having Sukuna’s painfully rock-hard cock prodding her ass while he held her tight against him? She was so clearly not in charge, and to make matters worse? The realization sent her core gushing.
“I can smell you,” he continued, taking in a long breath. And this time she couldn’t bite back her moan.
“Sukuna!” She gasped, feeling the blush run up her ears.
“I think you should really stop being such a cock-tease, woman. No wonder Yuji can’t help but fuck his fist most nights. I bet he can smell you too, he just spares your feelings by not saying anything.” The fog he’d brought with him was starting to clear, and she tried to pry his fingers off of her.
“Stop! You’re lying!” But Sukuna just threw his head back in a cackle.
“I actually don’t care if you believe me, do you want to know why?” He stepped out from behind her so quickly, shoving her back against the wall, it made her head spin. Looking up at his tattooed face and red eyes only solidified how real this situation was for her - and her mouth went dry. He grinned down at her, gripping her chin to hold her in place.
“I’m going to fuck you through this wall. You won’t be able to look at that stupid brat without thinking of me inside you ever again. And he’ll never know because he’s out cold.” Using his free hand, he ripped off her skirt. She cried out, trying to grip his wrist and stop her panties from meeting the same fate.
“Aww, still shy, are we?” He teased as he examined the red lace, running his fingers down to the ever-growing wet spot on them.
“N-No!” Sukuna just chuckled, watching her face morph from flustered to pleasure at his touch.
“And look, you even wore red just for me. How cute of you.” She moaned, closing her eyes. The physical and mental teasing was too much. If he wasn’t going to kill her, she was going to die of embarrassment. He sucked his teeth, hooking his thumb into her mouth and tugging her face.
“Look at me while I touch you, I won’t tell you twice.” He snapped, and her heart thrummed in her chest. It felt so good to finally have him touch her after all this time, she’d forgotten just how dangerous he was in the moment. She nodded sheepishly.
“Good, you listen well for a sorcerer. I don’t believe in praising those beneath me, but I think I’ll make an exception just this once.” He pressed his fingers against her core, watching the way she squirmed under him.
“You’re so wet already and I’ve barely touched you, was my tongue down your throat just what you needed?” Her head was spinning, his hold on her jaw rough, but all she could picture was wrapping her lips around him.
She slid her tongue around his thumb cautiously, watching his reaction for any sign that she’d miss-stepped.
He groaned, smirking down at her as he leaned closer.
“And here you’d have everyone believing you’re too innocent for such filthy things.” Finding the edge of her panties, he pushed them aside, running his fingers through her slick folds. He watched as she moaned, satisfaction settling on his face as the moan grew louder when he pushed a finger inside of her.
“God you’re so tight, there’s no way that brat could stuff his cock in you.” Her walls flexed at his words. Sukuna’s one finger was already so thick, and now her mind was swimming with the thought of having more.
“But don’t worry, you’ll take it from me.” And then she felt a second finger at her entrance, making her eyes open wider. She tried to speak as best she could around the awkward hold he still had her in, but it didn’t matter.
“Suku-na!” She cried out as he forced another finger into her.
“I’d be thanking me if I were you. I’m feeling generous enough to stretch you out before I ram my cock into your stomach.” He offered, grinning as he watched her try and hold herself together.
He didn’t wait for her to adjust to the feeling, why would he? Fucking her open on him was all he could think about while he sat bored on his throne - not that he was admitting it aloud.
So many days, weeks, months, of him wrapped up in her. He knew exactly what she was doing to him, even if she didn’t.
“Was it worth it to parade around like a whore in heat around us?” He asked as he began to slide his fingers in and out of her.
“You know I offered him the chance to have you first. Humans and their virtues though, so fickle. Of course, the brat couldn’t do this.” He pressed his palm against her cunt, and her back arched off the wall as his tongue shot out to flatten on her clit.
Letting go of her chin he wrapped his hand around her neck, giving it a testing squeeze before trailing down to her chest. Groping over her top, and then easily ripping the buttons away.
“Not my clothes!” She protested, but if he heard, he ignored her. Choosing instead to knead her breast as it spilled over her matching bra. Sukuna chuckled, looking back at her.
“The matching set, I’m starting to think you really did wear this just for me. Is that what you do? Under all those clothes you put on, you wear red hoping I’ll catch a glimpse. Hoping I’ll come out to rip it off of you.” He spoke as he rolled her bud roughly between his fingertips.
“God!” She cried out. He was everywhere. Pumping his fingers further inside her walls, tongue abusing her clit-
“I’ll be your god.” He hissed, before leaning down to suck her nipple into his mouth.
She was fast approaching the edge, gasping for air as he shot her towards her peak.
He curled his fingers inside of her, reaching a new angle that sent white hot pleasure shooting through her body.
“Sukuna!” She choked out, reaching up to ball her hands into his top. She was wary of touching him at first, opting to press against the wall instead. But it was all too much. She needed something more to try and ground herself through the first orgasm he was going to rip from her body.
“You gonna cum, little sorcerer?” He hummed around a mouthful of her breast, looking up at her expectantly. She already looked so cute and fucked out for him; grinding into his hand to push him further inside, face flushed as she whimpered his name over, brows pinched up while she looked down to him with a breathless nod.
“Please Sukuna...” If he wasn’t so pent up himself, he might have stopped what he was doing, but edging her would only edge him, and he had no interest in prolonging his own pleasure any more than being stuck in the passenger seat of his vessel already had.
For this encounter, anyways. So, he gave her what she wanted, driving his fingers faster into her cunt, biting down on the nipple currently still in his mouth, while his other hand roughly pinched at the other.
He could feel how close she was. It was getting harder to slide his fingers back into her, and he couldn’t wait to sink into her.
When he didn’t slow down or stop, she took it as permission, though, the tip of the iceberg was so close that even if he had told her no, she wasn’t sure she could have stopped, anyway.
It crashed over her in waves, throwing her against the wall as she cried out his name. Everything was gone - her sight, her hearing, all she could do was ride against his hand, and hope that their grasp on each other was enough to keep her standing through the intensity of it all.
Even when her high started to ebb away, he was still lazily pumping his fingers inside of her. Slowly the world came back to her, heartbeat pounding in her ears, and she whined.
“Aww, is someone sensitive?” He pulled away from her chest with a grin, red eyes glinting as he stared down at her dazed expression. She weakly pushed against his chest, trying to get him to stop while she regained some semblance of normal breathing.
“Sukuna…”
“Well, aren’t you going to thank me?” She swallowed hard, still trying to find her way out of the haze.
“I- thank you...” He pulled his fingers out of her, chuckling at the whimper that left her lips. Raising his hand to his mouth, he kept his eyes on her as he sucked his fingers clean.
“Mmm, I don’t think so.”
“What?” Confusion crossed her face, and he pressed the same two fingers against her parted lips, looking on in admiration as she opened them without question. Sukuna pressed his fingers against her tongue, pulling her mouth open as he did.
“Those red panties you’re wearing will be sufficient.”
“What?” The word left her mouth again, and he raised an eyebrow, dragging his fingers down her tongue and out of her mouth. She stared at him for only a second more before leaning down to slide them off her hips. She looked down to keep from fumbling, but he hooked his finger under her chin, tilting her face back up to him.
“I didn’t say you could look away.” She bit her lip, shimmying awkwardly to slide them down her knees. Stepping one foot out of them at a time, she began to lift them up. He grabbed them from her, large fingers brushing her own as he did.
She moved to stand up again, but he stopped her, shaking his head.
“On second thought, I don’t think one pair of panties is worth a mind-numbing orgasm, do you?” But it wasn’t really a question, not when he was already guiding her to her knees in front of him. The floor below her was cold - a shock that her core, still radiating heat, could feel.
“Be a good girl and open wide,” he said, reaching into his pants to take hold of his neglected cock. Pulling it out, he ran his thumb over the tip, smearing his precum up and down his length.
Sukuna groaned, gritting his teeth. The brat could imagine all he wanted; it would never compare to having her right here in front of him. Small hands braced on his thighs, eyes blown wide as she took in just how fucked she was about to be.
“See something you like?” Her breath hitched as he knocked his fat tip against her bottom lip. She slowly opened her mouth, tongue sliding out and against the underside of his cock. He groaned again, grabbing the back of her head as he forced himself into her mouth.
She dug her nails into his thighs as he did, trying in vain to pull her head back so she could breathe.
“You’re not acting very grateful. Don’t make me fuck your throat, I’ll end up hurting your feelings.” He chuckled. Tears were already welling in her eyes as she choked on what he could fit in her mouth. Slowly, she removed a hand off from his thigh, reaching down to run her fingers through her folds. When she’d gathered enough of her release, she reached back up to pump the rest of him with it.
“How resourceful of you. Makes me want to fuck my cock down your throat all the more.” She moaned around his length, gently rocking him as far as she could take him. Part of her was screaming for air, the other wanted to make him feel just as good as he’d made her feel moments ago. The fog was back, and she blinked the tears away as she looked up at him.
His jaw was tense, one hand still at the back of her head, the other balled in a fist and braced against the wall. Before this she’d only seen him when he was a mouth and one eye, stirring up chaos on Yuji’s cheek. Looking up at him now, though, red eyes trained on her and black markings all over his body - he was breathtaking.
All-powerful and terrifying as hell, considering that he could kill her in an instant, but breathtaking, nonetheless. She let her other hand slide down his leg to rest between her own, pressing her fingers into herself - only to whine in disappointment when it felt nothing like him.
“Needy little thing, aren’t you? I’ve gone hundreds of years without, and you just can’t wait for another.” She breathed hard through her nose, trying to take in as much air as she could before he hit the back of her throat again. Black dots buzzed at the corners of her vision, the sound of her choking on what she could take echoed through the hall.
Her jaw was pried open at a painful angle to accommodate him, and he wasn’t showing any signs of stopping. Her grasp on his cock grew slack, and she wasn’t fighting him every time he knocked his tip just a little further into her mouth. Her own fingers stilled in her aching walls, eyelids fighting to stay open.
Sukuna huffed, sliding his hand around to smack at her cheek.
“Don’t go passing out on me now, I’m not finished with you just yet.” And he pulled out of her mouth with a loud squelch as she gasped for air. The lightheaded feeling slowly dissipated as she looked up at him, tears and spit covering her face.
“You did okay. For now. We’ll revisit that later, get up.” She didn’t have to be told twice, rising on wobbly legs as quickly as she could. The thought occurred to her, that she was practically naked in front of him, while he was still fully clothed. She swallowed hard, trying to wipe away some of the shame along with the tears.
But he didn’t give her much time to wallow in her self-pity, quickly turning her around and pinning her to the cool wall. She shivered at the feeling of his solid body pressed into her back, erection still wet with her spit as it bounced on her bare ass.
“Maybe next time, I’ll let you look at me while I fuck you.” He breathed down her neck, grabbing his length and rubbing it through her folds. She dug her nails into the wall; he barely fit her mouth, there was no way she was ready–
“Relax, I’m not interested in breaking you the first time around. It would ruin the fun in watching you look at me in anticipation every time you’re around.” And he wasn’t wrong. Hell, he was still here, and the anticipation was coursing through her. Taking a slow breath she waited, thankful that the cool wall was enough to ease the heat on her face.
Sukuna gripped her hip and hooked his tip at her entrance before pushing in. She gritted her teeth, moaning at the already over-full feeling. For the situation being what it was, he was fairly gentle as he steadily eased himself through her tight walls with a prolonged hiss. She could only stay pressed against the wall, jaw dropped in a silent moan as he filled her out inch by agonizing inch. Her eyes rolled, body unsure if she should cry out in pleasure or pain.
“God look at you, practically foaming at the mouth. What would your sorcerers say if they caught you like this, hmm?” He groaned, bucking his hips up into hers. Her voice finally caught up to her, and she cried out, nails scraping down the wall as she clawed for anything to keep her grounded.
He didn’t quite fit all the way, but it only turned Sukuna on even more. Of course, he couldn’t fit - but he would. He would break her open on his cock as many times as he needed, until she fit him like a second skin. Until he was the only thing she could think about whenever she tried to seek pleasure elsewhere.
She was playing a game she had no clue about, and Sukuna was going to win. He laughed as he grabbed her hips, pulling out to slam back into her walls. They sucked him in and tried to keep him out all at the same time.
“Sukuna, fuck!” She moaned, reaching behind her to slow him down. He said he wasn’t going to break her, but the rough pace he’d set was literally fucking the air right out of her lungs. Her walls squeezed him tighter, and he moaned.
“Too much for you already, princess? I’m just getting started.” Sukuna grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her head.
“Too much, fuck, ‘s too much!”
“I’m not that brat, you’ll take what I give you exactly how I give it to you. Don’t piss me off, I’m in such a giving mood, right now!” He snaked his other hand around her, tongue darting out to swirl around her clit. Sukuna grinned. In an attempt to get away, she only managed to shove herself further onto his cock.
“Sukuna please, I don’t…Please!”
“Short circuiting, and I’m not even close yet. Shall we see just how many times I can make you cry before I’m finally satisfied?” Her mind was melting, she didn’t care anymore. What was she even begging for? Him to stop? Or maybe she was begging him not to stop. She’d never been filled up like this before; even the pain was pleasurable now. All she could do was stand against this wall and take it, anyway. Her body relaxed against him slightly, and he grinned.
“Is there something you want from me, little sorcerer?” She bit her wobbly lip hard, trying to focus on his words.
“I want- I wanna cum.”
“That so?” She nodded with a whimper.
“Beg, and I’ll think about it.” She couldn’t even be bothered with the feelings of shame looming overhead. She wanted one thing, and if begging was all she needed to do to achieve it, well…
“Please I wanna cum.” She whined, hands flexing in his grasp.
“Beg more, you can do better than that.”
“Please Sukuna please I wanna cum, never wanted to cum so bad. Please make me cum on your cock please I-” She was a wailing mess, she didn’t care who heard her pleas, only that he might answer them. His tongue licked at her folds, snaking around his length to tease her from every side.
He rocked her into her second orgasm, reveling in the feeling of her tightening around him as she screamed.
God, he needed to feel it again. The way her walls fluttered around his thickness, trying to close around the strain of taking him. The feeling was maddening, and Sukuna was sure he could pull another one from her immediately, he just needed to pick up the pace as he rammed his cock harder into her.
The wet sound of his second mouth lapping at her, mixed with her moaning variations of his name and ‘fuck don’t stop’ was more than enough to catch the attention of anyone close by, and as absorbed as Sukuna was in this little game, he wouldn’t let his guard down. He was sure she didn’t even remember what they were here for anymore at this point. If the whites of her rolled eyes and the drool currently sliding down the wall where her face was pressed against it were any indication, anyway.
He could feel her whole body start to twitch and tighten, and he knew she was close again. Two orgasms in, and he knew her body so well already. He’d put that knowledge to good use later.
“Go ahead little sorcerer, scream for me.” And she came hard, walls clamping down on him, practically shoving him out while she did. It was enough to send him reeling, too. Hips slamming up into her, he sank his teeth into her shoulder as he finished with a growl. If they weren’t both so wrapped up in each other, they might have realized he growled ‘mine.’ He painted her insides in white hot ropes, stilling when the euphoria finished washing over him.
“If you think that was mind-numbing, just wait until I get ahold of you in my true form.” Sukuna whispered against the shell of her ear.
He pulled out with a groan, watching her whole body quiver as he did.
“Clean yourself up.” She finally looked back at him, brows knit. He ripped the sleeve off his jacket, handing it over to her. When she tried to pull it, his grip tightened, and he looked at her expectantly.
“Thank you…” She said quietly as she cleared her throat.
“Such a good girl for me already, I don’t even have to train you. I’ll be back, be ready to leave when I am.”
“Wait where-”
“There’s still a job to do here, isn’t there? I’ve got a curse to kill.” He smirked as he walked backwards up the hall.
Yuji wouldn’t be awake for a while, plenty of time for Sukuna to hide his prize. One of the many he planned on taking from her, he thought as he twirled the red panties on his finger.
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emeryleewho · 7 months
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If you're worried about the enshittification of the internet completely killing your access to work by your favorite creatives (I've already seen a lot of artists I love state they'll be leaving Tumblr thanks to all the AI training), I want to introduce you to a handful of ways to circumvent the social media hellscape to stay connected to your favorite creators.
RSS Feeds
I'd argue that this is the best option. It essentially allows you to create your own social media "dashboard" by saving websites and getting updates when they post new content. Most websites already have these, and if social media goes down (or just continues to degrade), the best way you can access your favorite creators will be with direct connection to their personal websites. I'm still learning how to use these, but if you want to learn more, this article does a great job.
2. Newsletters
I know newsletters are a pain and it's annoying to have your inbox cluttered, but if there are creators you know you'd be remiss to lose access to, I recommend subscribing to their newsletters. I'd honestly skip the ones that share frequent content you don't need, but for example, my newsletter is updates only so I only send it out maybe every few months when something big happens. It's an easy way to stay up to date on info that social media buries. Of course, if your faves are writing up blog posts & insights that you want to read in newsletter form, consider subscribing to those as well, and don't feel like you have to subscribe to *every* newsletter to make it worthwhile. You just want to make sure you can still be reached by the creators whose work you really don't want to miss.
3. Ko-Fi/Patreon
I don't think a lot of people realize you can follow people on these platforms for free, but because they have paid options, they offer more direct access than social media sites whose algorithms will just erase people you love from your feed altogether. This one isn't the best alternate since a lot of content may be behind a paywall, but if you just want an easy way to be sure you'll still have access to updates from people you want to support, this is a usable way to compile creators in one place and most creators will post updates for free so you should still get those.
So yeah, these are my suggestions. If you're just on social media casually and you just like the easy access to content but don't particularly care about individual creators or specific projects or anything like that then you probably don't need any of this and that's fine. If social media is continuing to work for you then feel free to continue enjoying it without worrying about alternatives. I just want people to have a fail safe if you, like me, are realizing that this shit is getting completely out of hand and everything you once wanted social media for is quickly becoming inaccessible.
Anyway, I highly recommend tuning in to people's personal websites, but I doubt most people have the energy to check each individual website so RSS Feeds are great alternative. Whatever you choose to do, just try to diversify enough that no one company can completely kill your access to your faves on a whim and remember that the closer to direct communication you can get to with creatives the better.
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sluttywonwoo · 1 year
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instead of you [part twenty-six] || l.mh
pairing: [best friend’s brother] lee minho x college!reader ft. han jisung
summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either. 
warnings: swearing, angst, smut (mdni)
word count: 5.1k
a/n: revamped my tom holland series from my main blog ( @wazzupmrstark ) to try and motivate myself to finish it!!
series masterlist | early access to the next chapter on ko-fi
additional smut warnings: oral (f receiving), protected sex, multiple orgasms
The silence that followed your admission was excruciating. You wished you knew what Minho was thinking. He was impossible to read, aside from the evident anger written all over his face. His body language didn’t give much away either. He was closed off, arms folded across his chest, chin raised just slightly. 
“So who are you then?” he demanded, tone even despite being the exact opposite mere moments ago. 
“What?”
“Who are you? Are you just some girl that Jisung is using?”
“What the fuck, no!”
“Why are you acting like that’s some outrageous possibility? I just found out you’ve been lying to everyone all summer!”
“I’ve been Jisung’s best friend for like four years now, I’m all over his Instagram! Felix came to visit us and we all hung out, there are pictures of that too. I can’t believe you’d think I’m some random person!”
“You’ll have to forgive me for not thinking completely rationally right now!” he spat. “Why the hell would Jisung lie about- why would he say he had a girlfriend if he didn’t?”
“It’s a long story,” you mumbled with a sigh. “But we really don’t have time to get into that right now. I came up here because I was supposed to bring you back to the room.”
Minho made a face. “What, why?”
“Your cousins called.”
The shift in his demeanor was immediate. He visibly perked up, but only briefly, before seeming to remember the conversation he was having. “Jeongin and Yoon?”
“Yeah. Everyone else is on FaceTime with them right now. I told everyone I’d come to get you so that none of them would have to miss out on talking to him,” you explained. “So we should probably get going because I don’t know how long he has to chat.”
“Fine,” Minho surrendered easily, “but we’re not done talking about this.”
“Yeah, yeah I know,” you sighed again, still feeling nauseous. With everything that had already happened, you knew there was no way that this could end well. But now, now that one person knew it was all a lie, you were fucked. “Just… don’t tell anyone, please?”
He pursed his lips but nodded. “You sure have a lot of secrets to keep track of, don’t you?”
It was meant to sting, and it did, but you didn’t let him see the crack in the glass. 
“I could say the same for you.”
-
You slipped into your room as soon as you got back to the penthouse, not wanting to face any of the other Hans, especially not your best friend. You collapsed onto the bed with a muffled scream into your pillow. 
You expected yourself to start crying, but the tears didn’t come. They wouldn’t come. The initial panic had been replaced with numbness. Apathy personified, you could feel it spreading from your heart out through your veins, creating a tingling sensation that reached the very tips of your fingers. 
You had to tell Jisung, right? He’d understand… probably. You hadn’t told Minho. He figured it out on his own. Yeah, you should tell Jisung and then you could also come clean about… everything else. Maybe. But maybe you could also take it to your grave since it seemed like any possibility of you and Minho becoming an item, whatever that implied, was out of the question now. You knew he didn’t want anything to do with you anymore. Not after tonight. You couldn’t erase his look of betrayal from your mind no matter how hard you tried. 
Just how many people were you hurting by merely being on this trip? There was no way to know for sure, not that knowing would make you feel any less guilty. 
Maybe it was better not to tell Jisung. Maybe you could pretend like everything was fine, and then it would be. But that was what had gotten you in trouble in the first place. 
You hadn’t realized you had fallen asleep until you woke up with a jolt some hours later. The room was dark. The lamp had been switched off and the blinds were shut. Jisung was snoring softly beside you. He was tucked under the covers while you were still laying on top of them. 
You rolled over and felt for your phone, finding it underneath your pillow. You were surprised to see that you had missed a text from Minho. It was from an hour and a half ago and just said can you meet me in room 422? 
You weren’t sure if he would still be waiting there since it had been so long since he sent the message, but you responded with a tentative sure and quietly snuck out of your bedroom. You hoped Jisung wouldn’t wake up before you returned. Having to explain where you were or why you were there would only complicate things. You still hadn’t decided whether or not to tell him… anything. You needed more time to think things through. At least, that’s the excuse you told yourself. 
The fourth floor was eerily quiet, reminding you of how late it was. Stepping off the elevator into the hallway felt like a mistake, like you were trespassing on private property. Minho hadn’t replied to your text so you didn’t know if he was still awake, but you knocked at the door anyway. He answered after the second knock. 
“There you are,” he said and stepped aside to let you in. He seemed to have cooled down, which was a good sign, but there was still tension lingering between you. 
You slid by him, stopping in the entryway just past the door. The room he had summoned you to was just a plain hotel room. There was a queen-size bed in the middle of the room and a desk in the corner, but not much else. 
“You can sit wherever.”
You nodded in acknowledgment and perched yourself on the edge of the bed. Minho followed you but refrained from sitting, choosing to lean back against the dresser so that he could face you. 
“Why’d you want to meet me here?” you asked.
“I, uh, thought that talking in my room back at the apartment would look kind of weird if anyone saw us,” he explained awkwardly, “and the walls are thin too.”
“Alright, you have a point,” you admitted with a shaky exhale. “Whose room is this?”
“It’s mine. I went down to the lobby and booked it for the night.”
Oh to have a K-pop-sized disposable income.
“Oh, right. Should have thought of that.” You swallowed thickly, trying still to appear calm, cool, and collected. “Well, what did you want to talk about?”
You realized that Minho hadn’t mentioned wanting to talk in his text. You were just assuming. But given the events of the night, you felt that it was a pretty safe assumption to make. 
“I wanted to know why you and Jisung lied to everyone,” he took a brief pause before continuing, “and why I now have to lie to everyone too.”
You bit your tongue, stopping yourself before you could point out that he was already lying to everyone, and just nodded. 
“So the thing is, when he told your parents he had a girlfriend, he did have a girlfriend. They broke up, like, less than a week after he told them that and I guess he was too embarrassed to break the news because they were so excited for him and had already invited her on the trip. Jisung figured that maybe he’d have another girlfriend by the time he actually had to go on the trip, but when the end of the semester rolled around and he didn’t, I kind of filled the vacancy because he asked me to.”
“But why?” Minho pressed. “Why was it so important for him to be dating someone?”
“I don’t know, actually. He told me that it was to make your parents happy because they were always bugging him about his dating life, but I thought there might have been another reason that he just wasn’t telling me.”
Minho hummed thoughtfully. “Mom and dad are pretty nosy about our lives, but I don’t know why he would feel pressured to be in a relationship.”
“I think he felt like he had something to prove,” you said, choosing your words carefully. You knew how rocky Jisung’s relationship with his older brother was, at least from what he told you. You didn’t want to give Minho anything he could hold against him. “You’re not going to say anything to your parents or Felix, are you?”
“No,” he answered immediately and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “That’s his prerogative, I suppose. I don’t want to start anything between us- it’s not my place to say anything, really.”
“Thank you.”
He let his arms drop to his sides but didn’t move from where he was standing. “So, there’s really nothing going on between you and Jisung?”
“No, I swear.”
“Even after spending all this time together on the trip?”
“Nope, we spend all of our time together anyway.”
“So are you… friends with benefits?” he asked. 
“No. We’ve made out a few times, but it really just happens when we’re drunk. We never slept together.”
“But what about…” he trailed off, but you understood what he was talking about instantly.
“Oh, no! That was all fake. We just did that to sell it more, and sometimes to mess with you guys.”
“I knew there was no way he could be that good,” Minho whispered.  
You chuckled but came to your friend’s defense. “He seems to do pretty well for himself. Girls usually call him back after staying over so he must be doing something right.”
“I can’t believe it was fake,” Minho mumbled, mostly to himself. “Sorry, I’m still processing this.”
“Take your time.”
You leaned back on the palms of your hands, feeling a little more relaxed now that you knew he didn’t hate you. 
“Why didn’t you just tell me?” he asked finally, letting the mask fall the tiniest bit. “After I kissed you the first time? Or when you kissed me back? This whole time I’ve felt like such an asshole for- for everything that happened.”
“I thought about it,” you admitted, “but Jisung and I agreed that it would stay between us. I’m sorry.”
“I get why you didn’t. I just wish it could have been different.” 
“Me too,” you agreed.
Minho crossed over to the bed and sat down next to you. 
“I’m sorry I went through your stuff.”
You threw your head back laughing. You hadn’t expected him to say that. “It’s fine. Honestly, it’s a relief not to have to keep up the act around you anymore.”
“Oh yeah? And why’s that?” Minho raised an eyebrow and grinned, making you shy away from his gaze. 
You looked down at your lap. 
“Because it was exhausting! I don’t know how to act.” It was a half-truth, and you suspected that he knew it. 
“You had me fooled.”
You managed to look back up at him only to find him staring at your lips. This was not how you imagined this conversation going at all. 
“Maybe I should change career paths then,” you choked out. 
“Yeah, maybe.”
A few more beats of silence lapsed between you before Minho spoke again. 
“All of this time we could have been doing this,” he murmured gently. 
You scrunched your face up in confusion. “What’s ‘doing this’?”
 He leaned forward and bridged the gap between you by pressing his lips to yours to answer your question. His hand came up to your hair instinctively, muscle memory, and brushed it out of your face before cupping your jaw. You melted into him like you had done too many times before, letting him trace the curves of your face with his thumb like he was trying to memorize it. 
His palm was warm and you could feel the calluses on his hand against your cheek. You were the first to moan, any embarrassment long forgotten as you climbed onto his lap. 
Minho accommodated your weight easily, hands immediately coming down to grab your ass. He allowed you to push him down so that he was lying flat on the bed with you straddling his waist. 
Minho slipped his tongue into your mouth as the kiss intensified, teasing you with it. You whimpered when he pulled away, bottom lip jutting out into a pout. Minho just smirked and used the opportunity to flip you over so that he was on top. 
Then his lips were back on you, brushing against your jaw, your neck, your collarbone. As soon as you felt his teeth graze your skin you pushed his head back and gave him a look. It was his turn to pout. 
“You can’t leave marks, idiot.”
“Oh yeah, sorry,” he said apologetically, though the shit-eating grin on his face let you know that he didn’t mean it whatsoever. “Well, you can mark me up as much as you want.”
You rolled your eyes. “Lucky me.”
Minho ignored your comment and raised himself onto his hands, still hovering over you. He looked pretty, even in the dim, yellowy hotel room light. His lips were already a bit puffy, but he hadn’t even been kissing you for that long. You briefly wondered how they’d look after making out with your cunt, all swollen and glossy. You tried to squeeze your thighs together at the thought, legs closing around Minho’s hips instead. He seemed pleased at your eagerness and rewarded you with another kiss. 
“Can I take your shirt off?” he asked when he came up for air. You nodded. “Here, lift up a little.”
You did as he asked so that he could work the t-shirt over your head, laughing when he tossed it on the floor. 
“You weren’t wearing a bra?”
“I was about to go to sleep!”
He narrowed his eyes at you. “Likely story.”
“No, you’re right. I came here in my pajamas fully intending to seduce you.”
“Well, it worked.”
“Of course it did. Men are so easy.”
He shook his head, tongue poking his cheek. “You’re going to regret saying that.”
You cocked your head to the side, fully aware that Minho had the physical upper hand. “We’ll see.”
As soon as the words left your mouth Minho’s hands were on your boobs, effectively shutting you up. He circled a thumb around each of your nipples, smirking when you gasped and arched your back. 
“Barely even touching you and look how eager you are for me,” he mused. 
“T-take your shirt off too.” It was meant to be a command, but it sounded more like a plea. 
“What’s the magic word?”
“Fuck you.”
“Fine, since you asked so nicely.”
Minho reached behind his neck and yanked his t-shirt off, throwing it in the same general direction as he had thrown yours. You had seen Minho shirtless plenty of times before and you still couldn’t help but stare. His body looked like one of those statues you had seen in the Louvre, carved out of marble by one of the artists they named the Ninja Turtles after. 
You reached out to touch his chest, running your fingertips along his pale skin. 
“Can I take these off too?” Minho asked, playing with the hem of your sweats. He snapped the elastic band against your hip, making you flinch. 
“Yes, please get them off of me, it’s hot,” you whined.
You were left in just your underwear beneath him. You were usually pretty confident with sexual partners, but with Minho you felt exposed, vulnerable. You felt the urge to cover yourself, even though he was looking at you like you were a star amongst the cosmos. 
He repositioned himself lower in between your legs and before you could ask what he was doing, he pressed his tongue against your clothed cunt, licking a fat stripe between your folds.
You cried out in surprise, hips bucking into his face as a string of curses left your mouth. 
Minho raised his head, smiling sheepishly. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself. I’ve been imagining what you taste like for weeks. I just had to know.”
“It felt good,” you assured him, silently begging him to continue. “Was it what you hoped it would be?”
“Better. Can I please keep going?”
“God, yes.”
He placed a hand on either one of your thighs to hold you down as he buried his head in between your legs again. He teased you with his tongue over your panties, finding your clit in an impressively short amount of time. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pushing his head against you. He groaned, his grip on your thighs tightening as you pulled his hair.
“Please, need more,” you whined. 
And Minho was all too willing to give you exactly that. Instead of taking the time to take your panties off, he just pulled them to the side so that he could have complete access to your pussy. He went back to work and you both moaned. His tongue was wet and warm and felt perfect on your clit. You frowned when he started moving lower, confused as to what he was doing until you felt his tongue working you open. No one had ever tongue-fucked you before and you thought you might cum from that alone. 
Minho paused again to catch his breath. “Fuck, I knew you were wet, but I didn’t expect you to be this wet,” he rasped out. 
“Sorry,” you hissed, cheeks warm with embarrassment.
“Who the fuck ever told you to apologize for being turned on?”
“N-no one.”
“Good, because it’s hot.”
You scoffed. 
“Lay back down,” Minho said, nodding at you to punctuate his point. 
You rolled your eyes at him but did as he said anyway. “You’re so bossy.”
“Do you want me to keep going or not?”
“Fine, fine. Sorry.”
“I fucking knew you were a brat,” he sneered. 
“What gave it away?” you asked sweetly. 
“Take a wild guess.”
You propped yourself up on your elbows again despite just being told to lie down. “And what are you going to do about it?”
Instead of answering, Minho hooked his arms under your thighs and pulled you to the edge of the bed, making you lose your balance and yelp in surprise. You watched his shoulder muscles flex as he used his strength to push your hips down, preventing you from squirming. The sight was enough to make you want to squeeze your thighs together, but of course, Minho was stopping you from doing just that. 
He pulled your panties off completely this time, apparently frustrated with the obstacle in his way. They joined the heap of clothes on the ground. You didn’t even need to look at them to know that they were ruined. 
His mouth was back on you before you could get another word in, causing any snarky remark you’d been about to make dissolve into a moan. It was a little sloppy at first. He had yet to fully regain his bearings, but dove in headfirst anyway. Kisses against the crux of your thigh, nips at your hip bones. Teasing and experimental. 
His touch didn’t have the practiced familiarity of a lover. Each movement was eager, exploratory. He was learning your body like he had all the time in the world, but you were growing impatient. 
Your hands flew to his hair again as he finally laved his tongue over your clit. You suppressed your moans this time, remembering what he had said about the neighbors. 
“Fuck, keep going,” you hissed, encouraging him to continue. “Please keep going.”
You could feel Minho smirking against your pussy, but you didn’t care. He could be as cocky as he wanted if he was going to make you feel this good. 
It didn’t take much to get you to the edge. It had been a while since you’d gotten laid, and you had been wanting Minho for God knows how long… you would usually be embarrassed, not want to give a man a bigger ego than he already had, but you had a feeling Minho was trying to get you to cum before fucking you and you wanted him inside of you as quickly as possible. If anything, you were doing him a favor. 
“C-close, Min. ‘M really close!”
You could barely make out the muffled “already?” that came from him between your legs, but you still rolled your eyes anyway, half-tempted to push his head away. 
He guided two of his fingers inside of you, giving you something to clench around as you came. The intention behind the action is what did it. He clearly cared about your pleasure which was rare to find in a partner, especially when said partner was a man. 
You came almost instantly, catching Minho off-guard as if “I’m close” hadn’t been warning enough. He must have taken it as an advanced notice rather than an immediate head’s up. He grunted in surprise as you bucked your hips up into his face, but recovered quickly, helping you ride out the orgasm until you relaxed back on the bed. 
He lifted his head finally, grinning like he’d just won the lottery, and sucked your arousal off of his fingers, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand shortly afterward.
“Good?” he asked. 
“Really good,” you managed to choke out. 
“You okay?”
“Yeah, take your pants off.”
Minho chuckled. “Should’ve known you’d only want me for my body.”
You pursed your lips but didn’t bother responding. You both knew that wasn’t true. Otherwise, why would you be risking everything just to fuck him? 
Minho pushed himself off of the bed and shimmied out of his pants. As good as he looked in the gray sweats, you knew he would look even better with them off. And you were right. Even though he was still wearing his briefs, you could see the outline of his dick much more prominently. It made your mouth water and you sat up and shifted onto your knees to return the favor he had just given you. 
Minho saw you reaching out for him but shook his head. 
“I need to feel you,” he said, voice strained. “If that’s okay. I already almost came in my pants just from eating you out, I won’t last.”
You raised your eyebrows. “Not many men would admit to that.”
“Not many men would admit to getting off on making their partner feel good? You’re right.” 
You watched as he picked his pants up off the floor and pulled a condom out of one of the pockets. 
“Oh now you have a condom?” you teased.
“Look, I usually have them on me, I just didn’t that night,” he exclaimed in defense, the thin foil packet between his teeth. He ripped it open and pulled the rubber out, only pausing when you spoke again. 
“You don’t keep them in your wallet, do you?”
“I do, but I change them out pretty often. Is that okay?” 
“That’s fine.”
With that settled, he slipped out of his underwear and rolled the condom on with ease. He joined you on the bed a moment later. You laid back and waited for Minho to position himself. 
“Wait-” you whispered suddenly, having been so in the moment that you had almost forgotten. “Are you clean?”
Minho let out a sigh of relief, probably having thought something was wrong. “Yeah, I got tested like two months ago.” 
“But the other night with that girl-”
“I didn’t sleep with her.”
“Oh. Why?”
“I mean, I fully intended to, if I’m being honest. But I just… couldn’t.”
“Couldn’t get it up?” 
“Something like that,” he sighed. “I probably should’ve asked this before going down on you, but you’re clean too, right?”
You nodded. “I get tested all the time and I haven’t had sex in a while.”
“That makes two of us.” 
You looked at him expectantly. “You may… continue.”
“I’m surprised that didn’t immediately make my dick soft.”
“Oh, give me a break. My brain is still fuzzy from cumming.”
He snorted. “You’re welcome.”
“I can’t believe that didn’t immediately make me dry up.”
“I’m allowed to be cocky!” he protested. “I made you cum in, what, a minute flat?”
“It took longer than a minute!”
“I don’t know about that. I think we should check the replay.”
“You’re such a dork.”
Minho rolled his eyes. “And that must really turn you on. ‘Cause last time I checked you were dripping onto the sheets.”
“I-” you had nothing. You squeezed your thighs around Minho’s waist, trying to coax him inside of you. “Just stick it in already!”
“Since you asked so nicely,” he repeated.
You held onto his arms as he pushed himself in, sighing in relief at the fullness. He wasn’t the biggest you’d ever had, but he was still sizable. You had to take a second to adjust to the stretch before he could start to move. He fit perfectly, at least that’s what it felt like. You were positive he could tell how much you liked his cock from the way you unconsciously clenched around him, but you couldn’t even bring yourself to care. If his ego inflated to the size of the moon after this, fuck it.
“Fuck, st-stop doing that,” Minho stuttered, pressing one of his hands against your hip to try and keep you still. 
“I’m not doing anything!”
“You’re, God, you’re squeezing me so tight,” he hissed. “If you keep clenching like that I’m gonna cum.”
“Oh sorry, I didn’t even realize.”
You took a deep breath and willed your body to relax. It had been so long since you’d been properly fucked and you didn’t want it to be over before it even started. 
“Are you good to keep going?” Minho asked once he’d regained some semblance of composure. 
“Yeah,” you breathed out. “Yeah, fuck please move.”
He leaned down to kiss you as he began to rock his hips into yours and you met him halfway. You could still taste yourself on his tongue, on his lips. He groaned into your mouth and nipped at your bottom lip when you pulled away. 
“You feel so fucking good, baby,” he confessed, voice raspy. 
Baby was new. And it made you whimper in response. 
“So goddamn tight. It’s like your pussy was made for me.”
Did he say this to every girl he fucked? Because it sounded like a line, but it was working like a charm on you. 
As if he realized he was rambling, he busied his mouth in other ways. He kissed your neck, careful not to leave marks, before moving down to the valley of your breasts where he continued his work. The way he lowered himself onto you pushed his cock in even deeper, something you didn’t think was possible. 
His lips were warm. They were so warm. Each kiss felt like you were touching the sun. You could feel the heat against your skin even as he moved away, pressing kisses elsewhere. 
“What’s got you smiling like that?” Minho asked. 
You hadn’t even realized that you had been smiling, or that he had stopped kissing you. He was going faster now too. You hadn’t noticed that either. You were far too gone, clearly.
“Feels good,” was as much as you could manage, but that seemed to satisfy Minho. 
“Yeah? Have I fucked you dumb already?” he cooed condescendingly. 
You nodded. “Feels sooo good. Feel so full.”
You’d be embarrassed by your barely-comprehensible sentences, but you didn’t have the capacity to feel anything other than pleasure in that moment. You doubted you’d even remember what you said in the morning. 
“You close again, baby?”
“Uh huh.”
“Fuck, me too. I’ll get you there, though. I’ll make you feel even better.”
He brought one of his hands down to your clit and used his thumb to rub somewhat uncoordinated circles on it. He was gentler than he had been before, like he knew you were still sensitive from cumming the first time. The added stimulation brought you back to the edge in record time and all you could do to alert Minho of what was happening was frantically grab his bicep and squeeze it repeatedly.
“Gonna cum? Go ahead, baby.”
Your entire body tensed as your second orgasm of the night washed over you. Minho fucked you through it again, announcing that he was cumming right as you started to come down. Watching his face scrunch up in pleasure as he came was almost enough to send you into a third orgasm. His eyes shut and his mouth fell open into an O shape as his hips faltered. He didn’t stop thrusting until he was certain he’d given you every last drop of his cum, choking out a string of curses followed by your name through gritted teeth. 
He collapsed on top of you seconds later, completely spent and still inside of you. 
“Fuck, that was good,” he panted. You nodded in agreement, wincing when you felt him pull out. “You okay?”
“Yeah, but I don’t think I can walk. My legs feel like jelly.”
“Would another orgasm help?”
“No,” you groaned. “I can’t take another one.”
“I was kidding. C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up and back to your room.”
“Nooo, I’m tired,” you whined. 
“I know, I know,” he said softly, “but you can’t sleep here. Unless you want Jisung to find out?”
“Fine,” you mumbled. Your eyes were closed, but you could hear him moving around the hotel room. “Just give me like five minutes to nap.”
“You know I can’t do that.” When you opened your eyes he was wearing pants again and standing beside the bed waiting for you. “You need to shower. And pee. A UTI in the middle of vacation would really suck.”
“I’ve had worse.”
“You’re impossible.”
“You knew that before sleeping with me.”
“Yeah, and I still did it anyway. Now, get up.”
“You’re so bossy,” you muttered under your breath, repeating the sentiment you had already voiced. Minho just chuckled and helped you to your feet.
“You seemed to like that earlier.”
“Yeah, when you were making me cum.”
“Well, I won’t be able to make you cum anymore if you contract an infection. So I have to be bossy or else you won’t listen.” 
“Or else you won’t listen,” you mocked. 
Minho grinned despite himself and shook his head at you. “We should’ve started doing this way sooner.”
hope y'all liked this one :) lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!
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hongcherry · 9 days
Note
7+ M+ the little bird+ jk
oh you want to feel THE PAINNNNN 😭 we love angst here, so i got youuuuuu. tysm for sending in an ask! 💖 hope you like it!
Pairing: Jungkook x Reader G/AUs: Angst, established relationship, non-idol au TWs: None but ofc lmk <3 WC: 763
Prompt: “i didn’t do it. please, you have to believe me!” + distrust + the bedside of someone who doesn’t want you there
Build a fic! ✨
bts masterlist | main masterlist
this blog is 18+. minors do not interact. plz & ty! (ageless/minors/blanks blogs will be blocked)
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Whoever said silence couldn’t be deadly was a liar.
Jungkook stares at you with accusation, round eyes now narrow. It makes your breath catch in your throat.
“I didn’t do it. Please, you have to believe me!” you exclaim.
Jungkook points down to the phone he had thrown on the bed.
“How can I when you’re the only one who has access to it?” he says.
Your eyes drift back to the phone. On the screen is a YouTube video of his now-released song. You recall how Jungkook was still working on it, trying to build his portfolio so he could pursue his dream job as an artist.
“I—I don’t know,” you meekly reply, tears pricking your eyes.
Jungkook snatches his phone and starts tapping his screen. You stand idly, hands fidgeting with each other as you try to think of what to say. You’ve never seen him so upset before.
“Jungko—“
“It’s fucking everywhere,” he huffs. “You must have had a party posting this on all these different platforms. Are you happy now?”
He finally looks up from his device. He’s furious, but if you look closely, you can see the hurt from betrayal too.
“Please, Kook,” you plead. “I didn’t do that. I don’t know how it got released. Believe me!”
“I want to—“
“Then do!” you almost shout desperately.
He shakes his head, more hair falling into his face. He stuffs his phone in his pocket and raises his arms to run his hands through his hair in frustration.
“I can’t!” he groans and spins to look away from you.
You reach out to touch his arm, but he turns and backs away. He looks at you in a way that makes you feel small.
“You don’t trust me?” you ask.
“I guess not,” he mutters.
Your chest feels tight with pain. Although you and Jungkook only started dating three months ago, you’ve known him for a year. A year of smiles and laughter and love. Now, it’s all crumbling down because of… You’re not sure. Your mind can’t function properly knowing he doesn’t trust you after all this time.
“I want you to leave,” he says before you reply.
“Jungkook, please,” you beg.
“No,” he says sternly. “No more trying to get me to believe you. It’s time for you to go.”
“Jung—“
“Enough, Yn.”
He storms out the door and comes back a moment later with your keys.
“I’ll pack your belongings and you can pick them up tomorrow,” he says and places your keys in your palm. He holds the bedroom door open and gestures out.
You stare at him, barely able to hold yourself up when all you want to do is fall to your knees and convince him you didn’t do it. You would never sabotage him or his career. You were rooting for his success.
Jungkook sighs.
“Don’t make me—“
“Okay,” you force out, not wanting to hear him finish his sentence. You will your legs to take one step, then another until you’re out his door without another word.
Your hands shake as you retrieve your phone and dial your friend and roommate.
“H-Hey, can you pick me up from Jung-Jungkook’s?” You hate how you can’t say his name without feeling your heart break.
“Oh, now? Did something happen,” Hyunji asks.
“Yeah, but I—I don’t wanna talk about it right now,” you say with a sniffle.
“Ah. Sorry, I can’t right now,” she replies. If she knows you’re crying, she doesn’t mention it.
Great. You’re stranded. 
“O-Okay,” you say.
The line goes dead quickly after. After a deep inhale, you make your way out of Jungkook’s apartment building while looking at the ride apps.
By the time you’re seated in your ride, your heart has become numb and your eyes swollen with tears. Your ride doesn’t say anything about your state and begins driving.
You gaze out, gaze glossing over your surroundings until something catches your eyes.
Hyunji’s car.
You watch as she turns into Jungkook’s apartment complex. Odd. She said she was busy.
Jungkook and his friends live in the same complex, so she could be visiting one of them. However, there’s a growing dread in your chest that’s hard to ignore.
You lean forward to speak to the driver.
“Sorry. I forgot something. Can you turn around?” You’re surprised to hear your voice stable when your body feels otherwise.
Maybe you’re just overthinking. Maybe you’re making an excuse to not leave.
But something in your gut says you’re about to get the answer you were searching for.
Who leaked Jungkook’s song?
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©️hongcherry // DO NOT REPOST OR MODIFY Please consider reblogging if you liked this work to show your support. Feedback/commentary is always welcomed.
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byte-your-tongue · 1 month
Text
Various Pokemon Character x Overstimulated Reader
(Platonic, GN Reader)
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AN: this is a repost from my old blog so yeah so if you've seen this before that's why. This was written with an autistic reader in mind because that's what i am but if you get overstimulated for any reason i hope this can still apply to you! Platonic intentions but could be read as romantic if you want.
Ingo + Emmet:
You know one of them would pick up on it instantly. They are always looking out for you when you go to work with them if this is a common problem. The station is busy and crowded and noisy and even they can get overstimulated by it on a bad day.
So the second one of them sees you show signs of being uncomfortable they signal to the other and the two of them drop everything to be by your side.
They would lead you to their office and check in with you on what you need. If you can verbalize what you need, they will provide it in a heartbeat.
Don't feel like talking or can't talk at the moment? Usually they will still be able to figure out what you need and provide it for you.
Ingo is careful to do his best to keep his usually booming voice down to a whisper if noise is bothering you, and the two try to stay relatively quiet and still as not to cause any more problems for you.
But if even that isn't quiet enough they keep noise cancelling headphones for you in an emergency bag in their office!
In that same bag they have other various things you may need while with them including any meds you need, painkillers, a couple fidget toys to keep you distracted, a stuffed animal, and anything else you would need. And the stash isn't just for you tbh. Sometimes they also need access to these things so they keep them on hand.
While they can't always leave work to stay with you at home, usually one of them can spare an hour or so to take you home and help set you up with anything you would need. And if it's a slow day either one or both of them will just straight up stay home with you for the rest of the day. Even if you feel better they will continue to attend to your every need for the rest of the day.
These two always try to be prepared for anything and are constantly on the lookout for ways to help you better, so if you just tell them what you need once you've calmed down they will be ready and prepared next time this happens.
Basically they understand and sympathize with your struggle and are always ready and willing to help you out!
Volo:
Volo is constantly paying attention to you when you two are together. You are the most interesting person he's ever met. And he's met a lot of people in his travels. So when you suddenly seem distressed he's quick to ask what's wrong.
The first time it happens you have to explain it to him and how to help. Which isn't always the easiest to do when you feel horrible. But he makes sure to follow your instructions clearly. He rushes you to the nearest quiet place he can find and places his hat on your head before saying "i'll be back." If you protest him leaving he looks you very deeply in the eyes and promises in the most genuine tone he can muster that he will be back.
He returns shortly after with a cup of tea. He explains it helps with relaxation and asks if there is anything else he can do for you.
He really would do anything for you. Just say the word. You've got him wrapped around your finger. Want his jacket to wear? It's yours. Want some of his wears to snack on? Say no more. Want him to snuggle you? He'll hold you gently like you are the most precious treasure in the world. And if you want to just be left alone? He's far enough away not to bother you but still in earshot if you need anything else.
Over time he gets better and better with dealing with it. He's so observant he can sometimes even tell when you are starting to get overstimulated before you do.
His Togekiss is also always willing to help out if you want contact but don't want to be around a person.
Over all Volo is pretty helpful. While he won't always know what to do without you telling him, once he knows what you need he would go from one end of the earth to the other to get it for you.
Cogita:
Her house is so isolated. There are no people around for miles. So if you ever want to just hide away somewhere for a day she is always happy to have you over as a guest. You can always stay as long as you want. You could stay with her and hide away from the world for months and she would be happy to have you there.
So when you come stumbling to her front door, tears beading in your eyes, she is already starting to boil water for tea. You tell her you've just been so stressed recently and ask if you could stay with her for a couple days.
She accepts happily and leads you to lay down on her bed. She blocks the light coming from the windows and suddenly you feel slightly better. The dark space and quiet sounds of nature around you are already starting to help you relax. And you are always surprised by how heavenly soft her bed is.
She hands you a cup of tea and the soothing warmth of the cup helps lull you farther into a sense of security. If you are okay with physical touch she is running her hand up and down your back in soothing motions and murmuring soft praises to you. If not she is content to just sit nearby or even outside if you need her to for a bit. She lets you know that you aren't any worse of a person, that you don't have any less worth just because you get overstimulated easily. She assures you that you are a perfect specimen of a person and that she cherishes every bit of time you spend with her. And she tells you that you can stay with her as long as you need until you are ready to go back to society.
Over all Cogita is a very wonderful person to be with when you feel stressed or overstimulated. She has a calming aura and is very pleasant to be around. She has experience dealing with people like this in the past and she always seems to know just what to say to comfort you in the moment.
Piers:
Piers can be kind of clueless sometimes when it comes to you being overstimulated. It doesn't come from a place of uncaring, he just doesn't always notice. He tends to unintentionally tune out a lot of things in his constantly underslept state of existence.
But for whatever reason, his pokemon always notice. And they are quick to alert Piers of your predicament. He is then always by your side.
He can be a little bit prone to panicking over you if you look especially bad, but is quick to try and hide it as he doesn't want to make you feel any worse.
He can't always leave where he is if he's in between battles or he's out in public for some other important event, but he will let you know that you can leave if you want. He won't be upset. And if you want to stay with him he will do whatever he can to help you out.
One of his most common solutions is to let you borrow his earbuds and phone to watch something or listen to music and distract yourself. He will also keep a hand on you at all times if you don't mind the contact just so he can remind you he's right there and to try and help ground you.
He's also one to talk to you and keep you focused on him and not anything else around you. He will just say anything to keep you listening to him.
Even if he can't always leave and go home with you he will sometimes seek out an area that isn't as highly populated. whether that be a bathroom or anything else he will get you there so it isn't as loud and overstimulating.
His pokemon will nuzzle up to you and try to distract you. The dark types may look intimidating, but for you they are absolute softies.
And if you two are just out and about and not for something Piers has to be apart of, then he is getting you home as quick as possible the second you don't feel ok. He's calling a flying taxi and you two are out of there!
Up in the air in the taxi it's a lot quieter and you start to feel somewhat better.
When you two get home Piers spends the rest of the day doing whatever you want. And for once there are no joking complaints coming out of his mouth when you suggest something that he doesn't usually care about. He is alert and attentive as he tries his best to take care of you.
Over all Piers is very useful. He can't always completely remove you from the situation but he will work to distract you and keep you grounded so you don't work yourself up into an even worse state.
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doberbutts · 3 months
Text
I have to ask like. When you harass someone, what is it you're looking to do/accomplish?
Are you just hurting them because you can? That makes you an asshole.
Are you trying to resolve a conflict? If it's making you follow that person around the internet goading them into responding, then *you* are *causing* the conflict at that moment.
Has that person truly hurt you? If there's not authority or staff to report them to (or rules stating that you even *can*) then the best thing for you to do is to block them.
I've been there. Dogblr fucking turned on me over 2 sentences said as a tongue-in-cheek reply to someone in the doberman tags. People who I thought were my friends, people I'd happily interacted with prior, sending me death threats and telling me to kill myself and spreading all sorts of terrible lies and rumors about me for MONTHS. Because, to them, I spoke out of turn. They blatantly admitted to wanting me gone and stated they were happy when they thought they'd chased me off for the week or so that I password protected my blog to make the harassment stop. There were posts by people I'd had extensive conversations with just days prior, stating that they had never actually liked me and were celebrating that I was "gone".
Most of them have not apologized. Most claim that they did nothing wrong, or that I somehow deserved it. I have a few dogblr friends who still reblog from these people even knowing that this happened to me. One of them fucking recently reblogged one of my posts on their newly made blog because I'd long since blocked their other blogs.
Unfortunately sometimes that's how conflicts resolve. Where people are unspeakably cruel to you and nothing ever happens to them. You tell your friends about it and they say "oh yeah I've seen this behavior from them and they suck" and yet don't stop interacting with those people.
I'm not saying it doesn't suck. It does. It hurts.
And I'm sure if any of them were to read this they'd go "lmao it was years ago get over it" as if I'm the one in the wrong for being upset about the betrayal and harassment I received at their hands.
But naming and shaming would accomplish close to nothing. I already know I'm not going to get an apology from these folks and honestly I don't think I'd accept one at this point even if they did (even if they still SHOULD). I *have* had a few apologies trickle in over the years, and have discussed at length why I'm not particularly willing to trust again, and so far that has been accepted. But not from those who were the worst about it, who still to my knowledge act like they're fucking paragons of compassion and empathy.
And certainly continuing to follow them around the internet harassing them into admitting wrong-doing would accomplish pretty much next to nothing.
Sometimes when someone hurts you, the only thing you can do is block their access to you to do it again.
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transforgaytion · 2 months
Note
If you're still doing the "I wish" prompts, what about those really big eggs? I think it's emu eggs I'm thinking of. Plural :)
-always- accepting "I wish" prompts! (these are now accessible on my blog by clicking the "wishing curse" folder, and will be tagged with "wishingcursetf" ! Really? Is the first thought through her mind. Why on earth would someone utter those words in that order??? Who on earth desires emu eggs??
But before she has much time to react, she begins to feel the first subtle signs of the curse reacting. At first it's just a very very slight bloating feeling. Nothing is visible from the outside yet whatsoever. And at the mall of all places, on a busy Saturday afternoon...Nowhere to hide... How big are emu eggs again? She wonders to herself. To her shock, before she has time to leave the food court, the person who'd initially wished -kept talking-. "Yeah, I wish I had at least a dozen of 'em. Emu eggs, I mean. I wish I had some ostrich eggs too I guess, but I do like emus better as a whole, so I'd rather breed them than ostriches-" .... She pauses to process what she's just heard. How likely is it that at this mall she's stumbled across a wishful EMU FARMER. Wait a damn minute, did he say over a dozen???
Oh god. And with the size of them...this was about to get bad. The band of her jeans began to feel a bit tight against her stomach. They weren't loose jeans to begin with, but she knew what this meant.
She stood up from her seat, grabbed the trash from the table, and begun to quickly try to make an escape. If she could at least make it out to her car-...
"hey! What're you doing here?"
Are you -kidding-?
"Oh, sorry if I startled you!" her most recent ex continues as he looks at her, gauging how she's been doing since the breakup.
It was a smooth breakup, almost more of a break than an actual ending point for the relationship. But her ex didn't know about her curse. She wasn't cursed until two months ago, and they broke up around 5 months ago now.
"No, that's okay... I'm so sorry, I really have to go-" she started to try to exit the conversation, making it a point to apologize later, but she felt a very slight tug on her sleeve as her ex carefully got her attention as she moved to leave.
"Sorry, I just...it's been a while...you don't have a couple of minutes? I promise I won't take up too much of your time, I just-..."
The look in his eyes was so....so sad. So pleading. And he wasn't a bad guy, it's just...
"Look, I'm so sorry, I -really- have to go..."
The look on his face almost broke her heart. But she didn't have a lot of time to pay attention to her heart as her loose t-shirt was beginning to brush up against the skin of her stomach as it was slowly starting to protrude now.
"Wait!" he called after her as she tried to run. Her center of balance was already being thrown off, so she was already struggling to run like she would have been able to an hour ago.
She pants as she runs for the exit door, feeling more bloated than ever.
Once the automatic doors finally slide open, she's met with a terrible realization.
It's community day.
The whole town is in this mall parking lot, complete with food trucks from out of town, live music, the WORKS.
She slowly made her way through the crowd, resisting the urge to put a hand on her stomach to help her balance as she moved quickly through the people to the other side of the parking lot.
She'd actually parked on the other side of the mall entirely, but she got so desperate to leave that she'd gone for the first available exit.
She felt the fabric of the t-shirt starting to get tight around her slowly inflating stomach.
It felt so heavy. So hard. After last time, with the real babies, surely these eggs wouldn't be harder to birth, surely....
She clicks her car key fob a few times, listening through the noise from the community festival to try to hear her car's horn.
She can see it lighting up across the parking lot now, now it's just about making it over there.
 It's 8 rows over, she counts.
The t-shirt was starting to ride up. If anyone saw her, they'd definitely think she was pregnant. She wasn't pregnant yesterday. Word would get around that something's wrong with her if she wasn't careful.
She passes between cars, avoiding any people she sees, pulling her shirt back down over her still expanding bump.
It wasn't lumpy like she was afraid eggs might make it, so there must've been fluid in there too. It looked almost exactly like a typical human pregnancy, but perhaps shaped slightly differently?
 Either way, her shirt is slowly riding up her stomach higher as she continues to navigate the maze of cars, and her bra is beginning to feel tight.
She can feel her nipples getting so hard and rubbing up against it even with how hot it is outside.
She makes it to the car, -finally-, and turns the key in the ignition before pulling the front seat up as far as it'll go, and letting herself into the back seat.
She locks the door, and tries to breathe a sigh of relief. She feels huge now that she's sitting down, and she knows she's still growing.
Emu eggs. God. Why???? This curse was awful. There's no telling how many times she'd have to endure this.
They said ostrich eggs too...how big were those again?
She pulls the t-shirt off as it's now barely a bra functionally, her stomach too large to contain within it anymore.
She breathes in as her chest increases in size, causing her to rather desperately start moving to take her bra off, as the straps are starting to cut into her shoulders.
It has to start soon, right? The actual contractions have to start soon, she feels like she looks very due.
She finally gives in and lets herself run her hands along her stomach, rubbing it for comfort as it continues to grow.
"A dozen...." she says aloud, trying to keep herself calm.
At least this usually doesn't hurt as bad as real pregnancy would. Eggs should hopefully be even less painful than last time this happened.
Suddenly, as she's finally being able to relax a bit, she hears a loud sound against the car.
She looks up to see her ex, gently knocking at the driver's side window to see if she's in the car. He's really not a bad guy at all, something must be really bothering him for him to be this persistent, but damnit...now is SO not the time, she thinks.
It's not long before he notices her in the back seat. He glances from her face down to her stomach and then back.
She winces. He looks shocked. This isn't good.
"Oh my god!" Even though it's muffled, she can still hear him.
"Let me in, I can help!" he says, after watching her continue to rub her own "due-with-twins" sized belly.
She ignores him at first. She doesn't need help. He's not even supposed to know about this.
"I...I just saw you...how did you hide-...? You know what nevermind, I can still help! Please...?"
What on earth was his deal. And why was he being so-....he was willing to help after looking at her like this??
He tries the car handle, but only once.
It's locked.
her stomach is still growing. It's now taking up her entire lap. It's incredibly obvious how pregnant she is.
Physically, her body never 100% got the memo that the pregnancy was egg based, so she does feel her breasts get heavier and heavier, filling with milk no doubt.
her nipples are finally growing too. Preparing for feeding babies that will never drink from her.
Her ex is looking around now, contemplating if he should call for help. That'd be bad. She really doesn't want to be experimented on or something.
She just wants to lay these eggs in peace.
"Please..." he asks again. On any other guy, this level of persistence would NOT be a good look. But she knows he means well. She knows he's worried about her.
He looks around again, and while he's looking like he's about to go running to beg for medical assistance, her stomach finally, after growing to a size so large she can barely reach around it, finally clenches tight with her first contraction.
When it stops, she looks up and finally meets her ex's eyes. He froze when she clearly contracted, looking like he's feeling her pain with her.
She made a split section decision at that moment and reached up and unlocked the car door. She did her damnedest to scoot over to make room for him to sit beside her.
"Get in and close the door, quickly!" she spat at him in a hushed tone.
He moves quickly, getting in beside her and slamming the door and then re-locking it.
"Okay, what can I do? How can I help? Are you in any pain?"
She is baffled. Why'd she break up with him again? She would be able to recall if her entire mid-section wasn't getting tighter and tighter and oh god-, tighter, tight enough that it starts to hurt, and then it goes even further, it's so tight, so hard, it's squeezing her inside out, it's-....it stops.
"I....you weren't pregnant an hour ago, were you." her ex says flatly. She shakes her head slightly 'no'.
"Is it normal babies?" he continues. She nods 'no' again.
"Okay...uhh...."
"Eggs." She interrupts. "it's eggs."
"Oh!" he exclaims "Well, at least eggs aren't that bi-"
"Emu and ostrich eggs...." She clarifies. He freezes.
"Do-...do you have any idea how many?"
She feels the telltale sensation of her cervix slowly beginning to open around something.
She answers through gritted teeth as her stomach contracts again "uhh...at least a dozen, probably more...."
He looks shocked. He looks around the car. The running car.
"There's barely room back here...how are you going to-....uhh...okay, hold on."
He unlocks the door, and she moans as she tries to protest through the contraction but instead it just devolves into a groan.
He gets out of the back seat, climbs into the front seat, adjusts it for his legs, and re-locks the doors.
"I know you probably can't buckle a seatbelt back there, but I know a place close to here where it'll be really quiet....you'll have room to spread out and be safer there. Can I take you there?"
"oh god.....-" she murmurs as her cervix stretches around her first emu egg, "yes, god, it's happening fast, please...." she doesn't even know what she's begging for.
He puts the car in reverse, and she can tell how carefully he's driving already. Precious cargo and all.
He manages to get out onto the highway, and begins heading out of town. She feels fear for a second, before all her attention is back on her stomach. it's clenched down so hard she can't breathe. It doesn't hurt like it -should- if it was a 'real' non-curse related pregnancy, but it's clenched so -hard-.
He pulls off into a large field, off the main road enough that it's got no eyes on it at all.
"Come on, let me help you" he says as he climbs out of the driver's seat and opens the back door. "Can you walk? It won't have to be far at all, there's just nowhere for you to give birth in that backseat."
She barely nods, and then both her hands hold the sides of her massive stomach as it contracts again, pushing the widest part of the first emu egg into her cervix now.
When it subsides, although moving feels -very- odd, she does manage to step outside. The relief is instant.
She falls into a squat as soon as the car doors close. She can't control it, as soon as there was space, she felt herself squat.
But, oh- pants....
"I, I think I'm pushing, but I-" she babbles. he takes the hint, pulling her pants down gently but very effectively.
"I'm going to pull down your underwear too, okay? Then you can push." --------- part 2 soon if you like my work you can support me at https://ko-fi.com/transforgaytion 
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tinkerleaf · 7 months
Note
Ok, may I ask for a yandere chuuya x pm!moon (info on her is on my blog)
Yandere!Chuuya Nakahara x PM!Reader
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Thank you for your request! For this one, I will leave the name blank so it remains as an x reader fic. I wasn't sure what exactly I should write for this one, so I hope it's okay! I kinda hate how it turned out.
Synopsis: Chuuya keeps an eye on you :)
Warnings: Yandere themes, possible cringe (first fanfic teehee)
Word Count: 729
Chuuya was not used to feeling this way about another person. As a mafia executive, he had taught himself not to harbor feelings for anyone due to the nature of his career. But he just couldn’t help it. He was your superior, and he knew better than to pursue you, but that didn’t stop him. After being on missions with him and proving your worth, he became fascinated with you and your ability.
Dazai was able to pick up on his feelings for you rather quickly, despite Chuuya trying his best not to show it. “I never thought I’d see you get soft for one of your subordinates.” He mocked.
That was the first time he realized that his infatuation wasn’t just a little crush. Dazai was right. Every time you entered a room, his eyes lit up.
He could feel his face flush, and honestly, it made him sick. To think that someone was able to break through his exterior and find a way into his heart. It was incomprehensible to him. Not just anyone could do that. Only you could do that. There was something unique about you that he had to have. He needed you, and he hated it. He hated you, but oh, how he loved you. He hated how you had so much power over his emotions, but he loved the thrill of it all.
One night, you caught him following you. At first, you were a little frightened by the dark figure looming in the alley. However, once you realized it was only Chuuya, your worries melted away.
“Chuuya?”
His heart practically stopped when he heard you call for him. “Yeah, it’s me. Just wanted to make sure you got home alright.”
“Do you do that…every night?”
“Of course not.” Yes, he did. He watched you every single night on your walk home. He couldn’t just let someone find you and take you away. He had to know exactly where you were at all times, just to be safe.
He had placed a microscopic tracker on the back of your watch when you took it off to shower. You didn’t realize it was there, but it gave him full access to your location.
“How was Tokyo?” He asked you when you came back from a trip to visit family.
“Oh, the weather was-” You paused. You never told him anything about leaving town for the weekend. “How did you know that?”
“Hm?” He messed up. “Sweetheart, I’m your superior. If I wasn’t aware of your whereabouts, what kind of a boss would I be?” He tried to save himself with a rather terrible cover. You weren’t entirely convinced, but let it go for the time being.
After a few weeks, you noticed something dimly flash from your watch. Under further investigation, you found the tracker. After some time of panicking over who could possibly be stalking you, you froze. It all began to make sense.
The next morning, you threw the watch on his desk in front of him. “Are you serious?”
Feigning confusion, he asked what you were so angry about.
“Don’t even pretend! You put a tracker on me!”
He picked up the watch and examined it. The wires from the locator were popped out, which explained why your signal wasn’t picking up on his phone. “I do this for all of my subordinates.”
“No, you don’t!” You fought back. “I asked every other person on the team, and they didn’t have a CLUE what I was talking about! Tell me what’s going on!”
He stared back at you for a few moments before answering you. “It’s simple, actually. You belong to me.”
“Belong to you?” You couldn’t believe the words coming from his mouth.
He sighed. “I’ll admit it. I placed the tracker in your watch. How else am I supposed to keep an eye on you?”
You were dumbfounded. “Why? None of this makes any sense!” You went to leave the room, but the door was locked.
“If you think I’d let you go that easily, you’d be mistaken.”
From that day forward, you never left his sight. He made sure you were always near him, no matter the circumstance. You should have seen the signs before all of this had unfolded. His bright eyes locked onto you, and you realized you would never be able to get away from him.
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saintsenara · 3 months
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For sure and fair play, HP was a long project! But yeah, JKR fiercely defending her inconsistencies almost forces us to fiercely point them. Out of spite. I do get that many issues were out of Harry’s radar and understanding, but JKR trying to convince the audience through interviews that the wizarding world doesn’t have the same prejudices as the muggle world just makes me conclude that she must be herself incredibly unaware of the privileges herself and people in her circle possess. Plus the whole HIV parallel that just sounds so misguided and sours the text to me. Yet here I am! Love your blog xx
the lycanthropy-as-aids metaphor is extraordinary in how tone-deaf it is and it pisses me off...
especially because it doesn't make sense at any point in the story. the complete transformation of how house elves think of their enslavement between chamber of secrets [in which dobby mentions whisper-networks of politically-engaged elves decrying their treatment at the hands of wizards] and goblet of fire is really fucking irritating, but it has some slight defence in the narrative shift that the series undergoes after prisoner of azkaban from children's boarding-school literature to something approaching folkloric epic.
[that is, chamber of secrets needs to wrap up with dobby being freed, the malfoys getting their - comparatively benign - comeuppance, and everything being well, because children's stories always end with that everything back to normal vibe, and so the fact that harry has just learned that the wizarding world has institutionalised chattel slavery and been remarkably unbothered by that fact can be shelved by the genre conventions. after prisoner of azkaban, the books end more ambiguously and are more interlinked, as they start moving towards their big conclusion in deathly hallows, and are also darker in tone. and yet she decided to use this shift in tone... to make elves love being enslaved...]
which is to say, perhaps the lycanthropy-as-aids metaphor could be justified as a standalone plot device within prisoner of azkaban - since the reader does hear lupin explain not only the shame and stigma wizarding society's poor understanding of his condition causes, but also how the state's callous discrimination against werewolves impacts his ability to access healthcare, education, and employment - which then doesn't work after the series' narrative shift, when jkr wanted to introduce characters like fenrir greyback...
except it doesn't work even then! because at the end of prisoner of azkaban lupin turns into a rampaging monster who has a desperate, primal urge to eat children - and reveals his condition to be legitimately dangerous to an extent which entirely justifies why parents would feel uneasy about him being employed in a school.
[and - especially - being employed without dumbledore appearing to put any safeguards in place to keep both lupin and his students safe.]
one part of the tragedy of the aids crisis is baseless social stigma at an individual level, absolutely, and lupin - who is a nice [ish] man who doesn't meet the stereotypes wizards appear to have of untransformed werewolves - suffers from this.
but another is the way this stigma drove a state-sanctioned looking-the-other-way and refusing to act while the bodies piled up - something there is no parallel for in the series' worldbuilding around werewolves, not least because it tends to have a positive view of states and their institutions [state corruption is always located in individuals - fudge, umbridge - rather than in the structures which enable them, which are seen as fundamentally sound, for example] which i would imagine most people who know even a cursory amount about the official response to the aids crisis are unlikely to share...
and another is that - since hiv has a very, very long asymptomatic period - it was spreading without anyone knowing it existed for years, if not decades, before it burst into the public consciousness with death on wholesale scale. and then it continued to spread in terror and confusion - for years, you couldn't know if you had it until you started getting sick, and then, when you could access tests [if you could access tests], you were told it was a death sentence, and you would be unable to pinpoint when and by whom you'd been infected, and you would be unable to know how many people you might have infected in turn.
nothing about the series' presentation of lycanthropy corresponds to this.
but, with this said, i think there are two parallels between the conditions which could be interesting in the hands of someone who approached them with care.
the first is to see lupin's role as the series' one "good werewolf" as a mirror to the fact that public opinion became considerably more sympathetic to those living with and dying of hiv/aids when it began to emerge that people [white! "respectable"! heterosexual!] had been infected via blood transfusions and treatments for haemophilia. queer men and intravenous drug users could be dismissed as having brought their infections upon themselves... but not someone [white! "respectable"! heterosexual!] who went into hospital for a routine operation and came out slowly dying.
lupin - the son of a prominent civil servant [with all the class status that entails], bitten as a child through no fault of his own, hogwarts educated, connected to establishment figures like dumbledore - makes a great poster child for a milquetoast "werewolves aren't all bad" campaign which manages not to offend the state's sensibilities by asking it to stop demonising pretty much every other werewolf in history...
the second is to think about the generational divide.
in countries where access to appropriate medication is widespread [and that there are many countries where this isn't the case shouldn't be forgotten], hiv is easily treatable, easily manageable, easily rendered untransmissable, and easily preventable. the quality of life - and the life expectancy - of hiv positive people is now broadly equal to that of their hiv negative peers. the number of aids-related deaths worldwide annually has more than halved since 2010 and, in 2024, it is possible to say that virtually nobody who is newly diagnosed with hiv will go on to develop aids.
this is - sincerely - one of the single greatest achievements in the history of medicine. and it's completely changed how we think and talk about hiv, what it means to be diagnosed with it, what it means to live with it, and what it means to know [and to love, and to fuck] someone who has it.
if we imagine that there are similar advances in the treatment of lycanthropy - with the wolfsbane potion, which seems pretty bare-bones, replaced with something which made the impact of the werewolf's transformation even less severe [or which prevented it altogether] - then being a werewolf in the 2020s would mean something very different than it did in the 1980s.
and if - say - lupin is right, and teddy inherits his condition, thinking about how enormously different his experience being a werewolf might be from his father's [even at a very basic level - not having to turn down invitations based on the moon cycle, for example], and how he would come to understand himself and understand lupin through this different experience, would be a genuinely fascinating premise for a fic.
but not if jkr was writing it.
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olderthannetfic · 1 year
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As someone who's college age: yeah, there's a TON of people my age who don't know how things work and don't try to learn. Can't unzip a zip file, want to know where to download anime but haven't tried looking it up, ask things on subreddits a Google search or quick search on the wiki would answer, ask questions answered in FAQs or by professors or in the syllabus, say they can't download and install a new browser or app or program because they don't know how and they never think to look up how to do so, go months without logging into their student email because no one explained to them how to do so and they never thought to ask anyone how to do it, go months without washing their laundry because they don't know how and they also don't know how to look up instructions on how to do it, don't know how to cook and can't Google a recipe so they throw things in a pan and pray it works out, don't understand how to back up files, don't know how to attach a pdf to an email to send to a professor, cannot manage to put stuff on a USB drive + go to the library + print it off of the library computer, etc.
I spent most of freshman year teaching people things. The year after, my patience got more frayed and "Google it" started coming out of my mouth a lot more. This last year I gave up and now if people fuck themselves over, that's their decision. I'm not going to stand there begging people to do basic things they should already know how to do.
It was really funny when someone from Career Services came to talk to us about resumes and said we didn't need to put down 'can use Microsoft Excel' on there because everyone knew that and all but three people said actually no, they didn't. People who are 40+ really think we're all good at tech by default, like we fall out of the womb clutching a little phone already making spreadsheets in Excel or coding computers or whatever.
Meanwhile in reality you see a ton of people posting on tumblr going, "How do I post fic on tumblr?" whose blogs proudly state that they're under 18. The thought that you could just type into a Word doc and then copy and paste onto here never hits. And it's not going to.
I hate to break it to millennials and older people but yeah, actually, my generation does in fact have morons. We're not a moron-free demographic. I'm pretty sure moron-free demographics don't exist, tbh.
--
It infuriates me that my father (in his 80s) is always saying to me that he needs to find a 12-year-old to explain his tech to him. I (40s) keep telling him it's more like a bell curve or something. We had a blip of people being taught in school or having their asses kicked about technology. But then it went away again.
I think we made computers and then phones much more accessible, which is great, but we forgot we still need to teach people things. I know not everyone got explicit instruction in school even in my era, but it seems like the US, at least, phased some of that out as we started assuming The Youth automatically knew it all.
That said... in my day, college freshmen were also terrible about doing their laundry, so some things never change.
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wildemaven · 1 year
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Sweet Creature: Chapter Six
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Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader
WC: 4511
Warnings: 18+ Blog; mentions of food and drinks, unwanted touching, self doubt, pining, two dumb dumbs navigating fEeLiNgS, reader has a nickname but has zero descriptive features, fluff, like always please let me know if there’s anything I missed.
A/N: This chapter!! I think it’s just been a week for me, dealing with minimal sleep and a teething babe— I was near giving up on it. But, it’s done! Wrote out a good portion of it and then hated it so I rewrote it and then ending up going in a completely different direction— but I like where it ended up going. Thanks again for all the love and kind words on this series!! Only 4 more chapters to go!! Adding: Thank you to @gnpwdrnwhiskey for beta’ing this labor of love and all her support and help as I write this!
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An endless loop of vivid thoughts frequent your weary mind— starting early in the morning and well into the evening. 
Dieter, his stupid handsome face and the way he has you falling for him, your brain in a constant flustered state. 
You keep mulling over the possibilities of allowing yourself to be vulnerable, open to the idea of something growing between you and Dieter. 
Each alternative has its advantages and risks. 
Leaning into your feelings and granting Dieter access to the thing you’ve spent years guarding, trusting that he will stand alongside you as you fully open your heart to a chance at a future together. 
But what if he doesn’t want the same things as you?? You contemplate if settling for just his friendship is enough, never pursuing the growing connection between you, accepting him in your life but always at an arm's length. 
Dieter’s impending departure has you a mess, your growing feelings for him only making it worse. 
“Are you still there sweetheart?” 
“Yeah— Sorry Mom, I’m still here.” You assured her, finishing up the rest of your makeup as you get yourself ready for the Capri Hotel’s big event. 
“You sound so far away. What’s bothering you?” 
“Ugh. I don’t even know where to begin Mom. None of it’s really all that bad, just a lot at once I guess.”
“Well, I’m here to listen if you need to get it off your chest.” 
Moments like these, you wished she lived closer, missing your kitchen conversations at the end of a long day. No matter how depleted she was after work, she made dinner with a smile and sat for as long as you needed her to, her shoulders always carrying the weight of your heart when needed. 
“Just trying to keep it together most days. School has been busy, end of year things have me drained. Then there’s the whole gallery thing, it has me stressed I won’t be ready for the showing. I’ve finally managed to get a chunk of my pieces painted and prepped— I have like 5 more to do. And I’m sad it’s closing, I only have a few classes left there.” You pause for a moment, you hadn’t intended on an emotional dump when you called your Mom, just wanted to check in and say hello. “It’s all good things though, so I don’t even know why it feels overwhelming, I guess I feel like I’m going to let someone down somewhere along the way.”
“Hmm. Well, I know how hard you are on yourself, but I also know how hard you work— especially when it involves all the things you love. You’re going to get through it all! I believe in you.”
Her voice feels like a warm embrace as it drifts through your phone, the stress already feeling like it has lifted a bit with her reassurance. 
“So, how are things with your guy? Any new things on that front?”
“Well, he’s not my guy.” Chuckling at her abruptness. “I feel like we’re in a good place now— he feels like a close friend that I’ve known my whole life. And the more time we spend together, the more I—“
“The more you what?”
“I don’t even know, Mom. Like there’s these things he does, I don’t know if he’s just being nice or what, but he does these little things that make me so happy. He brings me coffee in the mornings when he drops his niece off at school, leaves little notes for me on the cups— I save them Mom, I have a stack of these coffee cups in my kitchen.”
You hear a muffled hum, her signal that she’s already preparing her response to what you have to share, but allowing you to continue. 
“He came to one of my classes, and you know what he did? He painted a portrait of me— who does that?! And now, we text each other all the time and I can’t stop smiling when his name pops up on my phone, because I can’t stop thinking of him. Then he gave me this cute nickname that makes my insides turn to goo any time he says it and I— I…”
“You love him, don’t you?”
“Yeah— I do.”
*
The air is dry, heat waves dancing across the scorching cement, an array of popular songs blaring from the DJ booth situated on the green lawn adjacent to the hotel’s pool deck. 
The re-grand opening celebration of The Capri in full effect. 
The hotel had been drawing in plenty of guests after the renovation, rooms booked out regularly, a quintessential tourist destination for the small town. Its mid-century design of wood, natural tones and pops of color paired with the sleek modern aesthetic throughout the hotel’s property was beginning to be recognized by many publications, all looking to showcase the hotel’s unique style in upcoming pieces. 
The hotel’s name, big white block letter signage, sits atop the covered entryway. A parked yellow Chevy Deluxe adds to the ambiance of the building’s timeless look. 
Giant palm trees and tropical-esque plants in terracotta pots decorate the grounds of the hotel. Small gardens with intimate seating had been strategically placed for optimal usage. A large lawn space in the back was draped in string lighting and had the perfect view of daily sunsets. The pool itself was a perfect backdrop for a day of relaxing, vintage woven lawn chairs and oversized umbrellas lined each side of the large pool surrounded by lush greenery. 
Dieter was able to snag a chair early on, perks of knowing the hotel owner, the umbrella shade blocking enough of the sun to make the extremely warm weather bearable. 
He’s trying his best to enjoy himself, knowing he’s doing Diem a favor keeping an eye on Wren while she’s running around doing her hotel-party hostess duties, but the growing crowd of guests and invitees feel more overwhelming, reminding him of the elaborate Hollywood parties he’s attended. 
Only a few people have stopped to ask for autographs or pictures, slightly surprised there’s still a fan base that has an interest in him these days. 
“How come they don’t want me to sign their papers? I know how to write my name too!” Wren, her voice tinged with a pouty tone, says from where she’s lounging on her chair next to him. 
“I don’t know, Birdie. Next time, you can sign your name too, seems only fair.”
“Okay. I can draw a heart for them too.”
Wren, satisfied with the compromise, goes back to sipping on her iced lemonade and watching one of her shows on her iPad, zero interest in what's going on around her. 
“How’s she doing?” Diem asks as she sits on the edge of the Wren’s chair, placing another lemonade on the small accent table between the two of them. 
“She’s good, wanted to take a break from swimming for a bit. You, umm— hear from Poppy yet?” 
“Why? You finally going to tell her you’ve got it bad for her??” 
Grateful his sunglasses are dark enough to block the eye roll intended for Diem, he glances over to see Wren still absorbed into her show then back to Diem and whispering a low -fuck off- accompanied with a playful middle finger. 
“She texted me a bit ago, said she was running late, but would be here soon— Oh! Speak of the devil, look who just arrived. I’m going to go say hi and I’ll send her over so you can tell her how much you’ve missed her.” Diem’s menacing voice earns her another middle finger from Dieter, leaving him to greet you properly. 
Dieter catches sight of you weaving through the pack of bodies meandering around the pool, taking in how your face lights up the minute you see Diem welcoming you with a hug, both of you embracing each other as if you hadn'tnd just hung out days prior. 
He’s seen you in your casual clothes outside of school before. Usually a pair of favorite jeans and t-shirt, a sundress sprinkled in on warmer days, but something about seeing you in a bathing suit and shorts has his brain short-circuiting almost instantly. 
Tilting his head forward, his pointer finger pulling his sunglasses slowly down the bridge of his nose. He’s completely taken aback, mesmerized by you, noting every little detail—  your captivating features that make him absolutely weak, every delicate curve so perfectly placed, each flaw you try so hard to hide merely a perfect addition to your allurement. 
The second you and Diem turn in his direction, he’s shaken out of his trance, trying to focus on anything to make his blatant staring seem less obvious. 
“I see an open chair next to Dieter, do you think he’ll mind if I hang out with them?” You point to the open space next Dieter, who is helping Wren navigate something on her iPad. 
Unfortunately, as you say it, you notice a beautiful woman sitting in the lounger you were inquiring about. You try your best to keep the tinge of jealousy concealed, the last thing you want is to draw any sort of attention to your feelings for Dieter at this time. 
“Never mind, I’m sure I’ll find somewhere to set my stuff.” There’s a subtle hint of sadness in your eyes, avoiding watching the women openly flirt with him. 
“Babe, you good?” Diem sensing the shift in your demeanor instantly. Peering back at Dieter to see the interaction he’s having with the woman, who now has her hand on his arm, caressing it as she tilts her head and openly ogles him— her fake laugh is a dead give away that she only sees Dieter for his Star Status and nothing more. 
“Yeah— y-yeah, I’m good.” Forcing a somewhat convincing smile. 
“Hey, I’ve got to go check on catering, make sure everything is running on time and then I’m going to grab Wren for her nap— the last thing I need is a 6 year old meltdown. Don’t worry about her, she doesn’t really seem like his type anyways. We’ll catch up in a bit.” Giving you another hug, letting it linger for a minute, then Diem takes off in the direction of the catering truck. 
You’re left standing there, feeling exposed and alone among a sea of strangers. Nervously scanning anywhere but in the direction of where Dieter and the woman are clearly flirting. You contemplate what an appropriate amount of time to spend here would be, before slipping out unnoticed. 
It reminds of you showing up to a middle school dance, dressed in the new fancy dress you picked out for the special occasion in hopes of seeing the cute boy, who’s name you spent most of the school year scribbling in your notebooks. Only to walk into the dimly lit and poorly decorated gymnasium to see he is with the head cheerleader and they’re both making heart eyes at each in the middle of the dance floor. 
Part of you wants to shrink into the shadows of the crowd, ruminate over the signals you read completely wrong this whole time. Dieter was just being nice, friendly— at no fault of his. You blame yourself for thinking he might have some interest in you, reading into the little details and thinking that you were even his type— clearly far from it. 
An up tempo song blasts through the speakers, amping the tone of the party up and pulling you out of your brief moment of sulking. 
Friends. Just friends. Dieter and you are friends and that has to be enough for you. 
You head in the direction of the open bar, hoping an ice cold beverage will help unburden your angsty thoughts. 
“We should hang out sometime!” Dieter cringes at the advances this random woman keeps making towards him. 
If this wasn’t his sisters hotel, he’d probably wouldn’t feel bad in being harsh and telling this woman to fuck right off. But he doesn’t want to cause a scene, not knowing how she would react to his rejection. 
“Umm, I don’t know— I’ve got a lot going on right now.” Let her down easy. 
“Oh come on! You’re not doing anything, you just got out of rehab— and they’ve got you trapped in this boring town too. I’m sure we could find something fun to do together. I know a few parties are happening in WeHo coming up, I can make a few calls— get some treats to liven things up.” Her hand still fondling his arm. 
He winces at her crass comment, a reminder of why he chose to escape the acrimonious world of Hollywood. 
He doesn’t have a single regret about being here in Ojai either, he enjoys its simplicity and is starting to feel like he could see himself here long term. 
“Look, I’m sure you're nice and all— but I’m not interested.” 
“Okay, well we can do something else then. How about we go back to my room, I’m staying here.” Wiggling her hotel key between her fingers. 
She’s clearly not grasping at the obvious hint Dieter is giving her. 
“No, I’m not interested in your room or you.” He says politely, grabbing her hand and removing it from his arm. 
“What do you mean?!”
“He has a girlfriend, lady!” Wren piped up in Dieter’s defense. 
“Wait! You have a kid? And a girlfriend?”
“No— to both things.” 
“God, rehab made you so fucking boring.” She scoffed, offended by his sobriety and his lack of interest in her. 
“Okay, so what we’re not going to do is that, my niece is right here. You can go now.” 
She didn’t hesitate at his request, grabbing her things and walking away— pretending to be unbothered by the rejection. 
“Sorry about that Birdie. Some people are just—“
“Weird!”
“Yeah, weird. Hey, Birdie?”
“Yeah.”
“I know you think Poppy is— she’s not my girlfriend, we’re just friends. So, let’s maybe not call her that anymore okay?” Although, he likes the way the two words mix together in the same sentence. 
He worries it’s going to slip in your presence, he knows wren means no harm by it, but he would hate for you to feel uncomfortable if you ever were to hear her say it. 
“Mhmm.” Her non-committal response earns her a laugh, fully focused on her show like nothing ever happened. 
Dieter takes in the lively atmosphere around him. Laughter emanating from the party guests gathered in small groups around the pool, a carefree crowd dancing throughout the lawn area, smiles plastered on everyone’s faces— he couldn’t be more proud of Diem and all she has accomplished. 
Readjusting the collar of his colorful half buttoned shirt, Dieter settles back into the chair, letting the sun kiss every bit of his exposed skin. 
“How are things going over here?” Diem quietly asked, pulling Dieter from his ruminative thoughts. 
Diem scoots Wren’s listless legs over to allow room for her to sit down, leaning over she grabs the device from her tiny sleepy hands, Wren’s little head nodding as she struggles to keep her drowsy eyes open. 
“No complaints, looks like you had a good turnout. I’m really proud of you Diem, not just all of this,” His hand pointing around to her accomplishments on display in the form of a successfully running hotel and her well executed re-grand opening festivities. “But with Wren too. I’m glad that I got this chance to be with you both.”
“Don’t go getting all sappy on me—“ Her voice wobbly and soft as she beams at his acknowledgment of her dedication to her work and Wren. “Thank you. And I wouldn’t have been able to pull this off without your help.”
Dieter nods, mirroring her heartfelt gratitude. 
“Have you seen Poppy? I saw you both talking earlier.” He hopes he doesn’t sound too desperate, wanting to know your whereabouts, if you’re okay and why you’re not here— with him. 
“She didn’t make it over?” His brows draw together, shaking his head slightly. Her nose wrinkled at the realization of why you hadn’t come over. 
“What?” 
“She saw you and your— little friend earlier, I don’t know for sure, but she seemed somewhat saddened by it. I’m surprised she didn’t come over though.” 
“Shit! I gotta go. You good with her.” He stands abruptly, an unnerving feeling creeping up from his chest, hoping you didn’t mistake what you saw for anything but an awkward fan interaction. 
“Yeah, go. I’m going to go put her down in my office.” Scooping up Wren’s sleeping frame. “Dieter?” 
He turns back to her calling his name, hands flexing at his side, a nervous tick of his, as he waits for what Diem has to add. 
“You should tell her.” 
He’s not sure why it’s so difficult to find someone in a somewhat enclosed area. His eyes scanning every ecstatic face as he sidesteps through conversations anchored in effervescent exuberance, a stark contrast from his growing collection of spiraling thoughts. 
If he could just find you, explain the situation to you in its entirety. 
Explain how he truly feels. 
How you'rer his first thought when he wakes in the morning, the giddy anticipation of seeing how beholden you are as he hands you the coffee he picks up from the bakery Wren and him stop at before school, how he takes in the way you tilt your head just enough to read the ridiculous notes he scribbles on the sides of each cup, “Have a Brewtiful Day!” “Better latte than never.”—each one extracting the most intoxicating laugh. 
How he looks forward to seeing your face light up at his stupid jokes, never once admitting how horrible you think they are. 
How you’re an added reason for him to want to be sober, never wanting to be on the receiving end of your disappointment in him. He wants that rewarding experience of seeing how proud you are of him. 
And how he wants nothing more than to have you in his arms— morning, noon and night, keeping you as close as he possibly can, terrified that you’ll disappear the moment he lets you go. 
His world seems to come to a standstill, everything he had been working up the courage to tell you, drained from his mind instantly. 
Utterly shattered by the sight of you. 
That smile of yours, paired with a full body laugh, directed at the man standing next to you. Your hand holding the top of his oversized bulging bicep as his large hand gently cups your elbow, leaning into each other as you both exchange words. 
A reality he hadn’t even considered in the time he spent looking for you— you being happy with someone who isn’t him. 
Crushed. 
Confused. 
Broken. 
It’s a dizzying sensation. A chance lost— or so he thinks. 
Rubbing his hands against his shorts, removing the evidence of his anxious response to seeing you wrapped up in what looked like an intimate conversation, his head still in a fogged state of shock. 
He manages to will his body to move from where he’s been standing. His jaw ticks anxiously, surrounded by bodies dancing around his blurry peripherals. Releasing a deep sigh, he looks back to you once more, looking for what he hopes is closure. 
Instead, he catches the moment the man you’d been friendly with, gesturing a goodbye as he retreats from the space he’d been sharing with you. 
Dieter watches the way your expression morphs from bright and bubbly to soft and muted the minute you're alone, leaning against the cocktail table with your face tucked into your shoulder, closing yourself off from everything and everyone. 
“Mind if I join you?” Dieter calmly approaches you, still holding on to the single thread of hope that he didn’t lose his chance. 
“Hey! Of course you can.” Your face instantly lights up at the sight of him, patting the open spot on the table, genuinely welcoming him to be with you. 
“I hope I’m not interrupting anything?” 
“What do you mean?” A line appears between your brows, shifting your body to fully face him with one arm still draped over the table top, your fingers casually drawing shapes onto the silky thin table cloth. 
“The guy, I saw you talking to him— looks like he works out, a lot— the man is very hot.” Words fumbling out of his mouth, as he points back in the direction he thinks he saw the muscular guy head in. “I just mean, I don’t want to interrupt if there’s something potentially happening there.”
Your lips pressed together in an attempt to fight off the urge to laugh. 
“What?”
“There was nothing happening there, like at all. That was Dan, he’s a good friend and he comes to classes at the gallery. I’d offer to introduce you two, since you think he’s so hot, but he just got back from his honeymoon— with his equally hot husband. We were just catching up.” 
Dieter winces at your explanation of who the man was, feeling like an idiot for so foolishly assuming you were falling for the guy. 
“Besides, he’s not really my type.” You state boldly with your head cocked to the side, one eye squinting to block the sun rays as you take stock of the way the sunlight tangles in his hair. 
“Where’s your friend from earlier? She was really pretty. You both really seem to be hitting it off earlier.” Keeping your tone neutral, looking down at where your fingers are now pulling at a loose thread on the tablecloth, preparing yourself for how his response is definitely going to wreck you. 
His hand settles next to yours, his fingers nervously tapping onto the hard surface. 
“Actually, I have no clue who she was— didn’t even ask for her name, didn’t want to know it either. Sure, she was pretty and maybe in different circumstances I might have been interested in her… She was pissed though when I turned her down, I actually had to tell her to leave.”
“Really— Why?” Your attention drawn back up to where he’s still studying you, his brown eyes locked with yours, now etched in a glistening golden light from the setting sun. 
He lifted his shoulders in a gentle shrug, taking a deep breath as he looked at you, “She just isn’t who I’m interested in.” 
When you think back to when you were growing up, constantly daydreaming about what it would feel like the moment you realized you were in love, and if it would feel as good to have that same feeling reciprocated back to you, by someone who wholeheartedly felt the same way. 
You decide that this is that moment, and it’s even better than you imagined it would be. 
Dieter’s eyes drift over to the table, his hand slowly inching closer to yours, the light brush of his fingers over the top of your hand is electric, your breath catching as he begins to intertwine his fingers with yours. 
His thumb, tender as it slowly smooths over the ridges of your hand, glancing back to you to make sure that there’s no sign of discomfort in your face— you squeeze your fingers, a silent ‘I’m more than okay with this’. 
A breeze picks up, his hair tousling around as it blows through where you both are standing. You lift your free hand to swipe the hanging curls out of his face, your fingers taking liberty to rake through his downy hair, each curl bouncing back into place. 
“What’s your type then?” It’s menacing the way his husky voice cuts through the steady silence, encouraging you to share with him. 
“Hmm…Tall, funny, sweet, driven, pretty— like really fucking pretty. Also has to answer to Uncle Dude in the presence of a sweet little 6 year old. Know of anyone who might fit that description?”
He nods along as you list off each quality, his eyes lighting up at mentioning good-looking. 
“That’s quite the list.” He quips, your breathy laugh prompting a lopsided grin from him. “So— pretty, huh?”
“Yeah— really fucking pretty.” Your words are drawn out in a sincere manner, noting the way his eyes crinkle a little at the compliment. 
Dieter’s hand nestles at the base of your neck, drawing your body closer to him. His touch potent and satisfying, as he commits to memory the way your skin feels beneath his fingertips, gliding them down your bare spine leaving goosebumps in their wake— his gaze never leaving yours. 
“You’re interested in someone?” The answer seems obvious, but you want to hear it from him. 
“Poppy, you gotta know it’s you—“ He utters earnestly with both of his hands now cupping your cheeks, watching the way your lips part as he leans in closer. “I lo— like you so fucking much Poppy, you’re the only one I’m interested in.”
The way he started to say that he loves you, it feels like you might float away, anchoring your hands on his wrists. Everything tingles in your stomach, he’s so close, his breath fanning over your lips. Your lashes flutter as he slowly angles your face, his nose brushing against yours. 
It’s a whirlwind of energy drifting between both of you, building intensity with each passing second, the finality of the moment bound to be explosive. 
Tiny hairs of his mustache grazing the underside of your nose. The top of his lip begins to settle over yours, it’s pillowy weight slowly meeting your—
*RING RING RING*
“Fuck!” The word vibrates across your upper lip at the vexing sound of Dieter’s phone ringing, offensively interrupting the flow of your almost kiss and urging him to answer it. 
“I swear, if that’s Diem—“ A picture of Diem and Wren lights up the phone screen, his thumb swiping across to accept the call, he stands to his full height as he presses the device to his ear. “Hey, what’s up?… Okay… Yeah…Yeah, I’ll be there in a minute then… Love you too, bye.” Dieter ends the call and shoves his phone back into his pocket. 
The entire phone conversation, his focus remains on you. His free hand never leaves the side of your face, thumb stoking across the warmed apple of your cheek—Your hand still holding on to him, the cadence of his heart-rate is rapid against your palm. 
“Diem?” 
“Yeah, she said Wren wanted to go home. She has to stay for another hour or two, make sure things close out here before she can head home.” He explains, zero annoyance detected in his face. “You okay?”
“Y-yeah, I’m perfect.” You say  softly, an airy smile spreading across your face. “What do we do now?”
Dieter takes in your question, so many answers floating around in his mind, but none of them feel sufficient enough at this moment, wanting to properly share everything he’s been feeling without being rushed or interrupted. 
He leans back into your space, his lips pressing a chaste kiss between your brows before resting his forehead against yours. 
“We’ll figure it out as we go.”
Next
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oneatlatime · 7 months
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Hiii!!! I’ve been binging through your blog for the past few weeks and I noticed how you talk about how Kataang(Katara x Aang) is portrayed in the show. Honestly yeah, I will admit I didn’t like it at first but now I just don’t really care for it. But I’d be interested hearing an in-depth opinion on the ship(unless you already did and I just never noticed or forgot 😭).
Another question, do you think you’re going to read the comics that came out the series? If you’re asking my opinion I’d say they’re a uuuh 7-8 out of 10 IG?
I do have thoughts on Kataang which I haven't shared yet. Part of me thinks I should wait to answer your ask until I've finished the series; it's obvious to me that these two are being set up to be the big finale couple, which means if I talk about them now I'm probably missing the pieces I need to have a full, well-rounded opinion. But you know what? I feel like talking about them now. So here goes.
Short answer: It peeves me that Aang comes from a culture that seemingly doesn't even have parents, yet he still manages to date his mother.
Long answer: they're both way too young. I'm a huge fan of letting the kids be kids for as long as possible. Especially with these kids, who have been prevented from being kids by the war. As Katara points out in the opening scene of the very first episode, she's been the mother since her own died (or at least she feels like she has had to be the mother). Call me crazy, but I'd rather Katara spend a few years after the war doing dumb childish stuff to recapture that lost childhood than jump straight into a relationship. Isn't the safety and space to do dumb childish stuff one of the things those who are trying to end the war are fighting for? Shouldn't she get to enjoy that? And Aang is just way too young no matter what way you look at it. He's 12 right? I think that would make him a grade 6 student. Back in my day (yells at cloud) Grade 6 students collected yugioh cards and feuded over who had the snazzier lunch box. I could picture a 12 year old having a crush on a slightly older girl that goes to the same school, but it would be short lived and unactionable. I guess Katara would be around 14? So, a grade 8 student. A grade 8 girl would not date a grade 6 boy. It would just never happen.
They've both got bigger fish to fry. Aang is the last Air Nomad AND the current Avatar. When he fully takes on both of those positions, what time will he have for a girlfriend? Katara is the only Southern Waterbender. Whether or not she wants the responsibility, it will be her duty to single-handedly reconstruct a huge portion of her nation's culture from the ground up once she returns south. Does she have the time to ping pong around the globe mothering her boyfriend as he rides giant animals or does Avatar stuff? Say she wants to: what will her family and the rest of her tribe think of the only person who can access such a huge part of their culture riding off into the sunset?
Their current relationship dynamic is still too mother/son. This is more obvious in season 1 than in season 2 (maybe that's growth?) but you can't depict a male/female pair as pieta and then expect me to ship. I think this could change somewhat, but I've already been disappointed in that. I thought that once Katara had mastered waterbending and therefore felt she had something other than mothering to contribute to the group, she would back off with the mothering. And she did, a little, but not enough for my tastes. Maybe as Aang fully steps into the Avatar role and the last Air Nomad role (sidenote: no idea what the latter would look like) he'll move on to a more equal relationship with Katara.
I think Katara is meant for better things than rebirthing a nation. Bending seems to be at least somewhat genetic. So if Aang wants Airbending in any form to survive after his death, he's going to need a billion kids. While I could definitely see Katara wanting children, I don't see her as the barefoot pregnant type.
I'm not convinced that Aang has a clear picture of Katara. She has flaws, which is good! Does Aang see them?
I get the feeling that, while they are helping each others' skills grow as they travel the globe, they are also preventing each others' personalities from growing. As long as Aang is around, Katara has someone to mother. As long as Katara is around, Aang has someone who prevents him from feeling the full weight of his responsibilities. Again, this is worse in season 1, but how often did Katara deny that Aang was to blame for something that was at least somewhat his fault? Aang will never become a fully rounded person until he can look at his flaws and mistakes dead on and say "my bad" without a Katara in the background going "no you're perfect!" Katara deserves to find out what kind of person she is outside of a nurturing role. Quick thought experiment: what if you pair Katara with someone who needs no nurturing, or better yet, nurtures her? And what if you pair Aang with someone as bluntly truthful as Toph? Katara and Aang might find both of those situations uncomfortable at first, but I think it would contribute to their growth.
Aang having a crush on an oblivious Katara would be a great single season arc. I think it would fit both of their characters well, and I think Aang growing past latching on to the first person he saw after the iceberg would be a good way to show that he's rooting himself in his time-displaced present, and fully committing to ending the war. And don't get me wrong, I love Aang and Katara both as a fighting team and as friends.
These kids are all fighting a war, and all kids. I don't mind the supporting characters having romances, because it's not like Sokka or Suki can end the war, no matter how hard they try/might want to. But I'm a big believer in doing one thing at a time, and I think if you're the only person in the whole world who can end a war, then ending the war should take precedence over dating. I'm aware that that's an unrealistic expectation and out of step with the show's theme of balance. In the real world, birth rates skyrocket during war time because people live for the moment and grab happiness (read boinking) wherever they see it. But both these kids are pre-boinking age so I'm going to be a cranky old fart about it.
Being the wife of the Avatar is a position that will often come with being relegated to second place, especially with the amount of work that undoing a century of war will take. Although she works well in a team, Katara is a naturally dominant personality. Katara did enough of putting herself in second place before the series started. I think Katara could very easily fall into the pattern of subjugating her own needs and desires and putting her husband's first, but I don't want that to happen. And one way to prevent that from happening is to prevent her from dating the single most politically important person in the universe. (To be clear, Aang would never deliberately squish a wife like that, I just think the workload of being Avatar and last air nomad would cause that to happen)
A lot of my objections to this pairing are very adult objections. I don't know what I would have thought about this pairing when I was the age of the show's target audience. It undoubtedly would have bothered me less, although I probably would have been put off by how twee it is. As an adult, all I can see are babies playing house.
As for the comics, I hadn't made any concrete plans to read them. I don't know where I'd get access to them. I'm not sure how canonical they are. I guess I should probably decide whether or not I want to read them after I've finished the whole series. I've been told that my girl Jin appears in one of them, so I definitely have some interest. I have also had the Avatar Kyoshi novels strenuously recommended to me. But so much of Avatar's charm, to me, is in the medium. And while comics are closer to animation than books are, they're still static. Avatar does movement so well.
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sluttywonwoo · 11 months
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instead of you [part thirty-one] || l.mh
pairing: [best friend’s brother] lee minho x college!reader ft. han jisung
summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either. 
warnings: swearing, smut (mdni)
word count: 2.3k
a/n: revamped my tom holland series from my main blog ( @wazzupmrstark ) to try and motivate myself to finish it!!
series masterlist | early access to the next chapter on ko-fi
additional smut warnings: edging, orgasm denial, spanking, protected sex
It was in fact, not the last time you would sleep with Minho. Despite saying so, you continued to sneak into his room every night after Jisung fell asleep. You’d fuck, sometimes twice, and then go back to the room you shared with your best friend like nothing happened. To say that the guilt was eating you alive would be an understatement. But for whatever reason, you didn’t stop. 
All it would take was a single look from Minho, a glimpse of him shirtless in the pool, a smirk directed at you, and you’d decide you needed him. You were so weak when it came to him. It was pathetic.
Minho always let you do the initiating when it came to sex. He never pushed, but he didn’t exactly try to deter you either. At first, you convinced yourself that it was just because he was like every other twenty-something-year-old guy: always horny. Never one to turn down getting laid when the opportunity presented itself. But every time you hooked up, you’d notice things that seemed to suggest otherwise. 
Like how he always put your pleasure first. That could simply be attributed to him being a good lover, but it felt different. It wasn’t like he was trying to get you to cum as fast as possible so that he wouldn’t have to worry about it when it was his turn. No, he took his time with it, wanted to make it last because he genuinely enjoyed making you feel good. It seemed like each time you had sex he was trying to make you cum more times than the last. And then afterward, when you were both still catching your breath, he’d hold your hand, play with your hair, coax you into staying five extra minutes, things that friends with benefits don’t do. 
You’d be a fool to fall for him. But it was far too late for that. You had wanted him before you ever slept together. Before he kissed you for the first time. And now that you’d had him, you didn’t want to go back. 
You can tell Minho feels guilty too. You see it in the way he looks at Jisung when his back is turned. He’s less vocal about it than you but you know it’s there. 
-
The second to last day in Bali is spent hiking. Your foot had mostly healed by then, but the news was still devastating to you. 
“Do you ever read the itinerary?” Jisung groaned upon hearing your complaints. 
“I like being surprised.”
“That’s a fucking lie,” he said, calling your bluff. “You’re just lazy.”
You gasped and held your hand to your heart, feigning offense. Jisung rolled his eyes at you. 
“Come on, get up, get dressed. It’s matching t-shirt day.”
“Nooo, I forgot about that.”
“You only have to do it one more time after this,” he reminded you. 
Only one more time. That’s right... there was only one more stop on the trip before you all flew back to Seoul and spent the last two weeks of summer there. You expected to feel relief but you were filled with anxiety instead. You couldn’t pinpoint the reason as to why but you suspected it had to do with the whole fucking your best friend’s brother behind his back thing. 
“You still with me?” Jisung asked. “Did you zone out?”
“Yeah, sorry.”
“S’alright. We better start getting ready, though.”
You nodded absentmindedly and made your way over to your suitcase to grab a change of clothes. You were moving on autopilot, not even aware of what you were doing until suddenly you were fully dressed and ready, sitting between Felix and Minho at the kitchen bar as Jisung blended up a smoothie for the four of you. 
You couldn’t remember brushing your teeth or putting on sunscreen but your mouth tasted minty and your skin was sticky from the lotion. 
Minho nudged your elbow. “You okay?” he asked. 
“Fine.”
Jisung glanced at his older brother and then you, sliding your smoothies across the counter wordlessly. 
“Thank you,” you practically whispered as you accepted yours.
Did he know? No, if he knew he certainly wouldn’t be speaking to either of you. But did he suspect? It wasn’t like you and Minho were being that careful... he could have easily picked up on what was going on. 
You tried taking a sip of your smoothie but it wasn’t melted enough to go through the straw. 
“Here,” Jisung said, leaning over the bar to stick a spoon in your cup. 
“Thanks, babe.”
He winked at you. “No problem.”
Okay, so maybe he didn’t know and was just annoyed with Minho. That could also be an explanation. 
Jisung’s parents assured you that the hike was an easy one but you were still skeptical. Hiking in general was an activity you preferred not to partake in, regardless of the level of difficulty. 
You liked getting out and going places... that were inside.. with air conditioning. Hiking, kayaking, cycling, all on the list of no’s for you. You were simply not an outdoorsy person. You’d much rather go to a tasting at a local brewery or sit through a play in a language you didn’t understand. To be fair, the trip had a good balance of both, so you couldn’t complain too much. The Hans, on the other hand, were outdoorsy people so you should have seen it coming anyway.
Getting to Campuhan Ridge required a short bus ride over to the site for the walk. You sat on Jisung’s lap since it was so crowded, listening to him argue with Felix about fruit. 
“They are good for you!” Jisung cried in exasperation.
“All I’m saying is that that much sugar can’t be healthy.”
“It’s naturally made sugar- I’m the one in culinary school here! I know what I’m talking about!”
The hike turned out to be relatively easy, as Nikki and Dom had claimed it to be. It wasn’t too high up either. Views of rice terraces and forests stretched on for miles in each direction, greenery as far as the eye can see. 
The only downfall was how hot it was. You were sweating not even ten minutes in and the baseball cap you were wearing did nothing to block out the sun. 
You stopped somewhere in the middle of the walk to take some pictures. It had been Nikki’s idea since she’d brought her Nikon along with her, but Jisung also asked Minho to take a couple pictures of just the two of you while Felix did the same thing for their parents. 
You wrapped both of your arms around Jisung and smiled as wide as you could manage. Jisung smiled too, squeezing your hip. 
“Okay, now do something different,” Minho directed. “The smiling is boring.”
You shrugged and raised yourself on your tiptoes to kiss Jisung’s cheek. “O-okay that’s good too,” Minho muttered. 
Jisung chuckled quietly, his body vibrating beneath your lips. It made you lose your balance but your best friend caught you before you could stumble.
“Woah, you alright there, y/n?” Dom called as he, Nikki, and Felix rejoined the three of you. 
You clung to Jisung and laughed. “Yes, thanks to him!”
“It seems like I’m always catching her,” he sighed. “Where would you be without me?”
“Dead, probably.”
His mother smiled fondly at your little display and you patted yourself on the back internally. You still had a role to play, after all. 
The sun had drained everyone so you headed back to the resort early. Felix and Minho went to pick up some take-out food while the rest of you showered off the day and waited for them to return. 
After dinner, you ended up in Minho’s bed again. It was routine at this point. Pretend like you’re going to bed with everyone else, wait for Jisung to fall asleep, wait fifteen more minutes to make sure he’s really out, and then sneak off to Minho’s room. His room was all the way on the other side of the treehouse thing you were staying in which was both fortunate and unfortunate. It was fortunate because it wasn’t close to Jisung where you might accidentally wake him up, but it was unfortunate because it meant you had to walk through the entire place in the dark to get to it. 
“Took you long enough,” Minho had grumbled when you showed up. 
“Aw did you miss me that much?” you teased. 
Apparently, he wasn’t in the mood to take his time with you because in a matter of minutes he had you pressed face down on the mattress as he fucked you from behind, holding on to your hips so tightly you thought he might leave bruises in the shape of fingerprints. 
It was a position the two of you hadn’t tried together yet but you were already loving it. Minho could go faster and deeper than when he was fucking you in missionary and it had you on the edge in record time. Except he wasn’t letting you cum.  
For whatever reason, every time you warned him that you were close, he would slow down or come to a complete stop, waiting until the feeling had passed to start again. He even held you in place so that you couldn’t fuck yourself back on his cock and finish yourself off- he’d learned to do that after you’d tried to do it the first time he denied your orgasm. 
“You’re so mean!” you sobbed, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. He’d stopped again, ironically rubbing your back soothingly as the pleasure ebbed away for the umpteenth time.  
Minho just laughed and pulled you up by your hair so that he could look at your face. “No, I’m not.”
“Yes you are! I need to cum and you won’t let me!”
“That’s your fault for telling me you like to be edged.”
God damn your big mouth. You didn’t even remember telling him that but you didn’t doubt that you had because it was true. You did like being edged but this was torture. 
“Don’t listen to past me! Listen to present me!” you begged. 
“Nice try.”
“Fuck!” 
He started moving again but slowly. It wasn’t enough to make you cum but it did make you even needier. You gripped the bed sheets as he thrust into you over and over again, trying in vain to get him to go faster.
“Always so fucking wet for me,” Minho hissed, slapping your ass lightly. You yelped in surprise. “Shh, baby.”
“I’m trying!” you whispered.
“Try. Harder. Then.”
You wanted to quip back but the words died on your lips as you felt the coil in your stomach tightening again. You didn’t tell Minho this time, hoping that he wouldn’t notice. He did, of course. Your pussy was fluttering like crazy around him and you weren’t able to control it. 
Minho stopped completely, this time snaking an arm under your body so that he could pull you up on his lap. You cursed under your breath at the change in angle. 
“You were about to cum without saying anything, weren’t you? Fucking brat.”
“I forgot?” you mumbled. 
He scoffed in disbelief. “You’re really testing my patience, you know that?”
“I guess it’s a good thing it turns you on then.”
Minho let out a sound of annoyance and brought his free hand down to your cunt so that he could rub your clit. The smirk fell from your face immediately. 
And then he started moving his hips, just enough so that your g-spot and your clit were being stimulated at the same time. 
You whimpered out that you were close when you felt your orgasm approaching again, which seemed to please Minho. But he wasn’t going to let you off that easy. 
“You want to cum? Beg for it.”
“Please, Minho! Please let me cum, I’ll be good, I promise!”
You didn’t hear what he said next because your ears were ringing from the intensity of your climax. You were vaguely aware of him cumming right after you but you didn’t register much aside from his body going tense underneath yours. You rode out your orgasm until the spots in your vision subsided and your legs stopped shaking, flopping onto the bed like a ragdoll. 
Minho was quick to lay down beside you, having recovered from his orgasm much faster than you had. 
“That wasn’t too much, was it?”
You shook your head. “It was perfect. I don’t think I’ve ever cum that hard in my life. Not even by myself.”
You probably shouldn’t be feeding into his ego so much, but considering how good he was in bed it was at least a little deserved. 
He grinned proudly and rolled onto his side to kiss you. “I’m glad.”
-
You took another shower before going back to bed. That had become another part of your routine since you started sleeping with Minho regularly. You’d take a shower before dinner for the sake of appearances, and then you’d take a second shower after messing around with Minho. There was no way you could just hop back into bed with Jisung all sweaty and gross. It would be a dead giveaway, not to mention disgusting. 
The second shower always made you feel dirtier than it did clean. It felt like you were washing off the evidence not only literally, but figuratively too. You supposed that was to be expected, though. What wasn’t to be expected, however, was your best friend waiting outside of the bathroom for you when you got out of the shower. 
You jumped when you heard his voice, nearly knocking your head against the wall. Your eyes had yet to adjust so it was hard to see him but he was there, arms crossed over his chest defensively. You already knew what he was going to say before he said it but the question made your blood run cold nonetheless. 
“Is there something going on between you and Minho?”
sorry for skipping out on the taglist again- I'm babysitting tn so I'm posting from my laptop (lmk what you think though i always appreciate feedback!!)
add yourself to the taglist here!
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novella-november · 11 days
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So uh, how are you planning to enforce the "no AI" rule? What do you plan to do if a participant is accused of using unacceptable software?
There's no submissions and no enforcement.
If someone is posting the in #Novella November & #NovellaNovember tags:
clearly-AI generated content (such as AI-generated book covers)
bragging about using AI
Talking about how they used x AI program to make X part of the book
etc
Then I can guarantee you they're going to simply be blocked by a few thousand writers en masse.
Probably they will get at least a few people trying to talk to them about the harm that AI does, and better alternatives that don't mass-steal from a few million unconsenting people--
alternatives like:
finding someone to partner with to discuss your ideas for brainstorming instead of asking an AI chatbot
.
Joining a "secret gift" group where everyone digitally "pulls a name out of a hat" or is randomly selected to make a cover for someone else's book idea
.
commissioning an actual artist for a cover
.
youtube tutorials on how to use GIMP as a free Photoshop alternative to make your own cover, with links to sites such as Pexels that have free stockphotos for anyone to use
.
Choosing a lower, more manageable daily word count goal if 1k or 500 is too out of line with your work schedule/ability to write on your own instead of resorting to AI generation to try to make up the difference out of anxiety
.
finding alternative medias to 'write' with, such as using an app on your phone or the in-built accessibility features on Windows that let you use your voice to type, so if you can't physically type or write with your hands or other limbs, you can instead dictate your novel outloud, which would also work if you are often away from home or can't actively use your phone but *can* record your voice passively as you work with your hands on another task :)
so...... yeah.
Literally the only things that would happen if someone tries to use AI in the #Novella November and #NovellaNovember tags would be the writing community collectively:
attempting some outreach; education is key to realizing the harm being done, after all! Maybe the person just doesn't know any better, and felt like that was their only option to reach their goal.
blocking the person, and if they're actively malicious in their AI use (such as fully knowing how much it harms writers/artists, how much of it is based on plagarism, or actively going out of their way to steal other people's work) people will probably start warning others about them as well so they can be blocked in advance, the same as other people who are harmful to communities.
This is a community initiative, spearheaded by this blog purely because I came up with the idea first and want to make sure that, at least to start out and as long as I can manage it, the community is the key part of being supporting and caring of each other, because billion dollar tech companies and those who are swayed by their money sure as heck aren't going to stand with us.
If someone is ""accused of using unacceptable software"" ..... they're just gonna get blocked if they're posting AI generated content, like everyone else who posts AI generated content get blocked by the community at large as they're encountered.
I'll repeat again: this is a community initiative, not an organization. There's no submissions people are sending anywhere to "confirm" word counts; --
Only:
people posting their celebrations and woes in the tag,
posting their frustrations and questions,
receiving answers and advice from the community,
sharing art and snippets, making covers, making decorative goal cards,
No AI is allowed in Novella November -- if people are posting or bragging about using AI generated content, they're simply going to be announcing themselves to thousands of writers (plus everyone who follows those writers) that they're a good person to block and never interact with 🤷
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chaotic-mystery · 6 months
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Code Red Chapter Eight | I Could Fly Home, With My Eyes Closed
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Pairing: No outbreak AU dbf!Joel Miller x f!OC (told in 2nd POV)
Summary: Everything's going good with Joel and your life, but is it almost too good? What happens when you put Joel on the spot about taking a vacation together?
Content Warnings: SMUT, 18+ only blog MDNI. Enemies to lovers, dads best friend Joel, age gap (readers in her twenties and Joel is in his forties), slow burn, strained father/daughter relationship, daddy issues, swearing, arguing, mentions of anxiety and how that feels, angst, showering with Joel, hand job, dirty talk, morning sex, penetration (p in v), pet names (Joel refers to himself as daddy and you call him that as well), worshipping, fantasizing about eating you out at work, power dynamic, reader smokes. (If I've missed anything please let me know!)
Authors Note: I'm back. After some long thinking I decided it would be best to change Code Red from a reader insert to a female OC told in 2nd POV. There's just too much in here that adds to the story and dynamics for it to continue to be a reader insert while also being a blank slate. I want to reiterate the reader IS NOT physically described in any way other than having hair long enough to push away from the face. There's an underlying personality that I want to add and explore more and I hope you guys love it just as much as I do. Thank you always @pedgito for beta-ing for me, I love you. I love you all and thank you for the constant support on this. || wc: 5.3k || notif blog || ao3 ||
Every night for the past few months you were staying late at work with Joel to help him sort through the blueprints Tommy left out all over the place during the day. Joel’s hands rest on your shoulders as you sit at your desk, typing up some paperwork so you don’t have to worry about it later.He leans down close to your ear and ever so softly glides his lips over the shell of your ear. 
“Can we go now, baby? S’getting late and I need to get some food in my belly.” A soft kiss to your cheek makes you smile, face growing warmer by the second. 
“Just one more and then I’ll be done, I swear it.” You chuckle and squirm away, trying to type as fast as you can. His lips motivate you to keep going and soon enough his hands follow, dragging up your sides and stopping right over your wrists. 
“No, no more. It’ll be here for tomorrow.” Your chair spins around and you become face to face with Joel. 
“Mmmm I’m not too sure if my boss will like that.” You joke.
A grin fights to spread on his lips. “Yeah, baby? Since when do you care about making me upset?”  
“Since always.” Bullshit. You make him upset for the fun of it. The way his brows knit together and he gets that frown, arms crossed over his chest. He looked so good when he was mad. 
He reaches out his hand and pushes back on your chair to make it recline the closer he gets to your face, a small hum coming from his mouth. Menthol and tobacco tickles your nose as Joel leans in as close as he can before touching his plush lips to yours. You can almost taste him. You need him so badly. 
“You’re not a very good liar, sweet girl.” 
He finally closes the gap between you two and his tongue immediately wants access to your mouth which you happily oblige. Pulling him closer as if he was going to disappear, you run your fingers through his dirty curls at the nape of his neck. He was your drug and by god did you need every single ounce of him. Soft grunts come from between his lips which causes you to smirk between kisses and makes you wonder how far he’d let this go right here at your desk. 
Just as you grab his shirt to pull it from where it was tucked in his jeans, Joel laughs and pulls away slightly, just enough to look at you. 
“Come on, let’s go home.” 
Home. 
What he means is your house, but home slipped out so effortlessly. Like clock work he’d drive you two back to your shared neighborhood and he’d grab clothes from his house and usually something to read, either the farmers almanac or a magazine from the gas station, and come over to eat dinner with you before you hole up for the night and relax. It was only on nights Sarah wasn’t home and with her mother, as she had no idea about her dad dating the cool neighbor to the left of them. You respected the idea of him not wanting to tell her yet. The feeling always came back to you late at night when Joel was asleep in your bed with soft snores coming from him, always reminding you how wonderful he really was. Joel would never put Sarah in the position to constantly have women coming and going in her life, confusing her every single time she’d come back to his house and learn her dad was no longer with his girlfriend. Alan on the other hand, was good at making your life feel like a revolving door, no stability, no good people around besides what little family of his he tolerated. Joel is the complete opposite of him and how they’re friends, you’ll never understand. 
You toss your purse onto the counter as Joel locks the deadbolt on the front door before he kicks his boots off onto the mat and groans tiredly as his feet rest flat on the hardwood floor. You grab a glass from the cabinet above your head to pour yourself a glass of water to go with your fries from the diner you just left. Joel looks at you with a puzzled expression on his face as he walks over to you. 
“What are you doin’, I thought you were full?”
You put a fry in your mouth and look at him before answering.
“No, but I noticed how tired you were and I didn’t want you to wait on me to finish so that’s why I asked Pearl for a box. No big deal baby, it’s fine.” 
Joel's face drops as he starts to understand why you did what you did. 
“Baby…” He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose before continuing, “please don’t do that.” 
“Do what?” You question with a mouth full of french fries and look at him confused. You weren’t seeing an issue with what you did but it was clear Joel was feeling differently. 
“This. Don’t rush yourself and not finish eating because you think I’m annoyed you’re taking too long or whatever may be the case.” Joel checks his tone and makes sure he’s not coming across as mad, but concerned. 
He steps in front of you and grabs your face, thumb smoothing over your cheek slowly as he looks at your eyes. 
“As corny as this is gonna sound, I'm gonna say it anyway. I will always wait for you, doesn’t matter what Im waiting on you for. If you’re eating I want you to enjoy your food, not look at me and think you gotta finish the rest at home because you think I’m gonna get mad at ya. Take your time, okay? I’m not going anywhere. Promise.” His attempt at reassuring you ends with a kiss to your forehead and his arms wrapping around you tightly until you’re against him with not an inch between you two. 
Your throat tightens with the need to apologize for doing that, as if you’ve done something wrong. 
“Okay…I’m sorry…” You mutter against his chest. 
“It’s fine, honey. I’m not mad at ya. Tell you what, why don’t I go shower and then we can watch a movie. How’s that sound?” You kiss him in agreement and Joel gives you a tired smile before he walks towards the bathroom with his clean clothes in hand. Time ticks on and it feels like eternity before you hear the water start and the shower curtain close and you couldn’t help but want to sit in there with him and just be near him. He made you finally feel comfortable in every aspect of yourself to allow yourself the small things as such.
You walk over to the bathroom door and clutch the crystal door knob to give it a turn and open the door just enough for you to slip inside. Steam whooshes past your face and the smell of your cucumber melon body wash fills your nose and you can’t help but smile at him smelling like you, never gets old.
“What’re you doin’ in here?” Joel hollers in a playful tone as he lathers his body with soap. 
You rest against the sink with your arms folded over your chest and for a second you think about ripping your clothes off to join him. You must’ve been taking too long to respond, suddenly your face was sprinkled with water to snap you back to reality. 
“You just gonna stand there and be silent or are you gonna get your ass in here?” 
That was all you needed to hear. Your clothes were on the floor before he could finish rinsing the stress filled day off his body. Joel turns around to the back of the shower and looks at you kind of surprised, not thinking you’d really join him in the shower. He switches spots with you and your eyes flutter shut with the trail of warm water running down your body until you’re covered in it. 
“Do you want me to wash your back for you, honey?” 
You think for a moment and answer Joel truthfully.
“Not at the moment but um…I was wondering if you’d hold me? Just for a second and then I’ll wa-“ 
Joel stops you by wrapping his arms around your torso from behind and giving you a light squeeze to let you know it’s okay. 
Nothing mattered in that moment besides him in that ugly green bathroom you hated so much, with his arms wrapped around you as if he’s won the lottery or something. To him he did, he definitely won. 
Joel, trying to be as much of a gentleman as he could be, starts to inch his fingers down your hip little by little, tugging you closer against his groin. 
“You’re so beautiful. Fuck I’m so lucky to even be this close to you.” He kisses your shoulder and continues speaking.
“To touch you.” A kiss between your shoulder blades.
“To see your bratty ass sitting so pretty at that desk at work…bet you didn’t even know you make me so hard I have to distract myself with something else before I do something I’ll regret.” His teeth ever so slightly graze your earlobe before he spins you around to face him. 
You open your eyes slowly and decide to test him a little more. 
“Like what? What would you do that you’d regret?” Smoothing over his sides beneath the warm water, you kiss his chest and hear his breath shudder, distracted from giving you a polite version of his answer. 
“To take you to the bathroom stall and eat your pussy until you’re screaming against my hand on your mouth, begging me to stop.”
“What makes you think I’d let you get that far before I’d get my hands on you?” You retort. Joke was on him, you’d never let him get ahead of you like that before you got your way with him first.
Still, you wanted to play this game with him. Before he could respond, you lean up and kiss him roughly, your hand traveling down his stomach until you bump his cock, already half hard just thinking about having you in such a predicament. 
A moan chokes out from Joel as if he’s been holding that one back forever and you can’t help but get into how much power you have over him, regardless what he says. Each stroke to his cock from your wet hand earns you a louder moan than the previous one, his hand reaching down desperately to cup your ass, water splashing against your feet harshly.
“F-fuck baby, jus’ like that. My god-” 
You hook your arm on his shoulder to keep him still as you go faster and kiss his neck, more and more moans pouring from his soft lips like honey. Joel’s knees begin to buckle a little and you smirk in the crook of his neck before biting the skin just enough to make him wince. 
“You’re so fucking hard, Joel. Dirty old man, thinking about eating me out at work. Tsk tsk tsk.” Whatever he’s been doing to you over the past months was giving you this new found confidence to be a dirty talker and a little dominant even though you were the biggest brat he’s ever crossed. 
Joel’s eyes squeeze tight as he takes in your words mixed with your hand curling just right over the sensitive tip. 
“O-old man, huh? But you wanna suck this old man's dick, don’t you?” 
He got you there, you wanted to do more than that. 
“Maybe, maybe not.” 
“What did I say earlier, honey…you’re not a very good liar.” He moans out and you pump his cock faster, hoping it would keep him from talking. 
Just as his groans echoes off the tile of the shower walls, you hear tires on the gravel driveway outside. You both stop in your places and turn to look out the small window above your head and notice your dad’s truck in your driveway. 
Fuck. 
Immediately you shut the water off and throw Joel’s towel at him and tell him to stay in the tub before you close the curtain on him and wrap a new towel around you from the closet. Hastily you begin to run around your entire place trying to grab anything that remotely looked like someone else was here with you. Joel’s boots sitting by the front door catches your eye and you bend down to grab them, hearing your doorbell ring. A big clunk comes from the boots hitting the closet floor before you close the doors and you can see your father’s shadow in the frosted glass of your front door. 
Fuck.
Three loud knocks to the glass pane makes you jump and you holler loud enough for him to hear outside, “One second! Hold on!” You run to your room and throw on a robe quickly before making your way back to the door with the fabric tied tightly around your body. 
You open the door to face your dad’s back and he turns to face you. 
“Bad time?” He dryly asks. 
“N-no, I was just getting out of the shower. Not trying to be rude but what are you doing here? It’s so late and I didn’t know you knew where I lived…” You close the collar on your robe more as the wind breezes past, sending goosebumps down your already anxious body. 
“I uh, I didn’t. I came to see Joel but he’s probably asleep, didn’t answer…and I noticed your car over here, didn’t know yall were neighbors.” He breathes in sharply as if he’s offended you didn’t share that with him. 
“So do I get to see the place or not?” He half asks as he’s trying to step inside before you give your answer. Noticing how pushy he’s being, it’s clear something is bothering him but he won’t spit it out. 
“No it’s really messy in here, I’ll invite you back though, promise.” You hold the door against your side tightly, foot behind it to keep it still. The awkwardness lingers while he processes you telling him no, something he’s never been able to understand when it comes from you. 
Tongue in cheek, he nods a little disappointedly and steps backwards to the railing of the porch. 
“S’okay. Didn’t think you’d want your dad in your space anyway, I get it.” There it was. The same sad sob story he always gave, his favorite card to play the second you didn’t turn into his puppet like you used to as a little girl. 
“Dad-” you begin, “-it’s not like that, I swear.” Your head falls as you can feel yourself getting more and more upset by the second. Nothing good is going to come from this, from him knowing you live here. Next to Joel. 
“Did you find a new job yet? The girls down at the bar keep talkin’ about how everyone around here knows about the little fight you caused months ago and now no one wants to hire ya.” The nerve he had to come over here, thinking you’d be chit chatty at almost eleven o’clock at night, just to hear how those bitches down at the bar that don’t even know you, tell your dad about his own daughter. 
Speechless, you stand there with a growing lump in your throat that acted as a net and stole every single word that you attempted to choke out. 
“I’m just saying, it doesn’t look good on me.” 
Unbelievable.
Blood boiling like water on a stove, you sigh loudly and stand straight up, ready to tell him exactly what you were thinking.
“I have a job now, thanks. I’ve had one for a few months now, actually. Thank you for coming over here and insulting me and telling me what the girls at that grimey fucking bar think of me. I really appreciate it, dad. Goodnight.” You slam the door and lock it before he has the chance to open it and knowing him he would. Within seconds your heartbeat begins to race and your head gets dizzy, Joel takes notice and he’s clothed now as he comes from around the corner. There’s no room to care that he heard every word of what just happened, you can’t get air into your lungs fast enough and you look panicked at him. 
“J-Joel I-” You clutch your chest and glance around the room quickly.
He rushes over to you and cups your face, muttering something to soothe you but you can’t make out what he’s saying.
“I-I’m gonna go sh-shower.” 
“Baby, are you okay? Do you want me to come sit in there with you?” He asks but everything seems so muffled over the beat of your own heart that hasn’t slowed yet. You wander towards the bathroom and shut the door behind you, locking it without answering Joel. Warm tears glide down your cheeks as you start the water once more and step in, your cold body shivering under the now hot water that feels like it’s going to melt your skin off. 
Why would he say that? Surely he defended you to them, right? As a father, he could not have just sat there and let them talk about you like that, no way. Anyone in their right mind would never let someone talk about their daughter in such a manner but this was your dad, and he wasn’t a regular dad. 
Trails of water run down your back and you stand in silence with a hand over your mouth to muffle the sobs you started to let out. You couldn’t tell if it was tears or water from the shower coating your face anymore. 
The sunlight slowly begins to pour into your bedroom, mourning doves singing faintly as they sit in the trees. As you lay there with Joel snoring on his back next to you, you couldn’t help but replay the night before. Your dad knowing where you live, especially next to Joel, wasn’t something you ever planned on sharing. Deep in thought, you didn’t even notice Joel stirring awake next to you until you’re engulfed by his arms wrapping around you and tugging you into him. 
“Good morning, baby.” He mumbles in your ear and nuzzles into your neck, eyes still shut. His favorite thing to do as soon as he’s awake is to pull you close and have a cuddle before you get up for the day, but today felt different. The house was silent but there was this unmentioned tenseness you didn’t talk about from last night and you weren’t even sure if he did hear everything your dad said to you. 
Failure. An embarrassment. How long before Joel soon started to see you that way?
“Hey…you’re doin’ too much thinkin’ before you’ve had coffee. What’s the matter?” Soft kisses to your cheek snaps you out of it and you try to shake it off. 
“Nothin, it’s nothing. Do you want pancakes or waffles for breakfast?” You sounded like you were trying to convince yourself more than you were Joel. 
“I want this. Just stay like this a little longer.” Joel presses more kisses to your shoulder and trails them over your chest until you’re on your back, tucked under him snugly. 
“You don't really want that.” 
Joel scoffs and dips his head under the covers to soon place his mouth on your stomach. “It’s exactly-“ he pecks your skin, “-what I want.” A low groan vibrates against your belly and you laugh slightly from the tickling sensation as your fingers manage their way into his soft bed head. 
Hooking his index and middle finger in the waistband of your panties, Joel starts to trail his mouth down your abdomen and bites at the blue cotton fabric covering your growing aching heat by the second. 
“You’re so beautiful, you know that?” Joel kisses your clothed pussy before dipping his fingers inside right to your clit. Slipping against his fingers makes you moan in his mouth and press your body against his enough to make your nipples brush against his arm. 
“J-fuck-Joel, please fuck me, god damn. Fuck me.” Your whiny pleads only make him finger you in more of a teasing manner, changing speeds and styles sporadically against your desperate attempts to fuck yourself against him. His mouth falls open to bite your earlobe while his fingers toy with your entrance. 
“You want daddy’s big dick inside you, hm? Use your manners.” His left hand comes up to rest on your windpipe as he kisses your lips. 
“Please, please please, daddy, please fill me up.” 
Everything was different this morning, even the sex. He felt more gentle with his actions, not wanting to throw you around like a ragdoll this time and it was a nice change for you. 
With a swift move Joel shucks off his basketball shorts and runs the tip of his cock through your folds, coating himself in your arousal as his lube. 
“That’s right, such a good girl for me.” His finger swirls slowly on your plush lips before going inside your mouth, pressing down on your tongue softly. Like muscle memory, you suck his finger and bite down firmly when he puts his cock inside you, the pressure subduing rather quickly when you adjust to him. 
Quivering warm breaths hit your neck as Joel buries his face into you. Moaning and groaning echo off your bedroom walls and you feel Joel nibble on your neck trying to get you to moan louder for him. 
“Yesss oh my god Joel, just like that please.” Your slurred words go quieter as his hips slam into you, but it wasn’t the normal rough sex. The passion was through the roof and he wanted to make you feel worshiped. 
“You’re so good to me baby doll, so damn good to me.” His husky voice is like liquid velvet in your ears and you can’t get enough. Joel’s name flys from your mouth with every other curse word you can rattle off as you start to feel that burning sensation in the pits of your belly. Arms wrapping around his neck and nails clawing at his back, your legs close around his waist subconsciously, trying to get him deep inside you as you could. It felt too good to let him sit up and pound into you, that’s not what you wanted. 
Chasing that orgasm, Joel starts to whimper in your ear everything you want to hear, squirming on top of you as he made it his mission to make you come before he did and he was putting in the work. Joel’s mouth around your nipples, biting and sucking for moments at a time before he goes back to your neck, then back to your nipples. 
“Cmon, jus’ like that. F-fuck, baby-ughhh-yes, I-I-” His words fall short on your lips as they connect, tongues dancing in the middle together. 
“I-I love y-you” was the last thing you heard before coming on his cock thrusting deeply inside of you and with a few more pumps, Joel was shooting warm ropes of cum inside you. 
Panting underneath him trying to catch your breath, you smooth the curls at the nape of his neck and whisper, “I love you too.”
I love you. 
Of course you wanted to say it months ago, hell, you’ve been waiting to say it since he defended you that night at White Pony. Being with him for the last eight months was nothing short of trying. You butt heads like no one’s business and throw little comments at each other under your breaths and he doesn’t take your shit, as do you his. 
I love you.
It sounded so good coming from him. 
I love you.
Seeing Joel all fucked out and snoring softly in your room with pink sheets and pillowcases surrounding him makes you laugh quietly to yourself, the most southern man you’ve ever met who wasn’t afraid to sleep in a hyper pink room. He always tells you it’s the best sleep he can get but you’re convinced it’s just your mattress he loves. 
A knock on your front door makes you jump slightly. A Saturday morning and someone knocking on your door? Probably the neighborhood kids playing around. Pulling on your black sweatpants and a clean shirt from off the floor, you slink down the stairs and open the front door to a bouquet of roses sitting right at the edge of the stairs. 
What the fuck?
Small rainbows casted onto the wooden porch as the sun shined through it, roses dancing ever so gracefully in the breeze. A card poked through the bubblegum pink bulbs and you could feel your anxiety growing from something you were unsure about. Not many had your address but now that your dad knows where you live, who knows what shit he’d pull. 
“Miss you, baby girl! I’m so proud of you for doing what’s best for you. Hope these get to you when you need them the most. 
-mom” 
She always did have a good intuition of when you needed her the most. You dip inside without making too much noise  to grab your cigarettes and lighter from your purse sitting by the coat rack, closing the front door softly to assure Joel wouldn’t wake. 
Warm tobacco fills your lungs to take the edge off your anxiety and for some reason you couldn’t stop feeling like you needed to go see your mom. She had a cabin out in Michigan right in South Haven near the beach, private and secluded just how she always wanted, that you never grew tired of being in. It’s been years since you’ve got to go due to work and moving all over the place to get away from your mistakes that seemed to follow no matter where you went. Texas was safe, for now at least. 
The slowly burning cigarette was getting towards the end and you crushed the butt against the sidewalk before flicking it into the pebbles by your bushes and groaning at yourself mentally, knowing Joel will see it and give you an earful later about doing that. 
Why shouldn’t you go see your mom? You had the money saved up and it didn’t seem to be too hard to get your boss to agree to give you the time off. Your feet move as fast as they can back inside the house to the counter to set the flowers down and then upstairs to Joel in your bed, sound asleep on his stomach with his face barely visible behind his bicep of his arm tucked under the satin pink pillow. 
Climbing on top of him and basically straddling his ass, you pull the covers off him and rub his back slowly, dragging your nails up and down his skin softly. A couple of mumbles leave his lips as he stirs under you, his other arm reaching backwards and squeezing your leg just enough to realize it was you. 
“Mmmmbabyyyy whasthemaddur?” His cheeks squished together distort his words but by this point you were fluent in half asleep Joel language. 
“I need to ask my boss something but I don’t know what he’ll say.” You giggle and kiss the top of his back and lay your chest on him, your arms at his sides comfortably. His heart was beating faster with every rise and fall of breath he takes in. 
“I was um…I was thinking ya know…I want to go see my mom, in Michigan.” You looked in his direction before continuing. “And I was wondering if I could get maybe a week off? Pleaseeee.” You drag out the last word and start to kiss his back more in hopes he’d comply and give in faster. Was Joel really prepared to tell you no? 
He turns his head the opposite way and coughs as he wakes up more, chuckling at your attempts to butter him up. 
“You, my favorite worker, want a week off? To go on vacation? The nerve!” Joel’s dramatic tone takes you by surprise and you continue kissing his back trying to contain your laughter.
“She lives in Michigan? Must be pretty nice there on the lake- never been but I’ve been to Chicago a few times, real pretty out on the water.” The softness in his voice makes your heart swell a little and before you can stop yourself you ask flat out, “what if you came with me?” 
Joel turns to the side and dumps you onto the bed before sitting up to look at you.
“What?” The smile was long gone now from where it was mere seconds ago on his face.
You push the fluffy comforter out of your sight and meet his eyes.
“Come with me. Let me show you around Michigan and you can meet my mom, maybe.” Everything felt right, it felt like the right time for Joel to meet your mom, having been together for eight months now.
Joel fiddles with the loose thread coming from the cover and you start to get that anxious feeling again.
“I um…I can’t, darlin’...I’m sorry. I just-” He stops but he doesn’t know how to continue, so he doesn’t attempt to say more for what felt like eternity. “With Sarah and everything I can’t, I’m sorry.” 
“It’s fine, I get it.” Your voice cracks and you sit up facing the wall to hastily wipe your face and pretend like that didn’t just break your heart a little. 
A couple weeks pass and it’s been awkward between you and Joel since he shut down the idea of meeting your mother. It wasn’t like you’d be around her the entire trip but he didn’t give you a chance to explain either. Maybe that was too far for his boundaries. 
With your flight booked and your bags packed sitting by the front door, Joel had been distant at work and didn’t stay for long when he’d come over after work. Was this your punishment for trying to grow with him?
As you dragged your luggage to the driver you booked, you notice Joel’s truck gone from his driveway and your heart drops in your chest. Not even a goodbye, see you when you get back, nothing. 
You get in the back of the car and drive to the airport with tears stinging your eyes. You’ve officially scared him off and he wants nothing to do with you now. 
His phone rings four times before you get his voicemail, that voice is like music to your ears. 
“This is Joel, I uh- I can’t come to the phone right now but leave me a message I call ya back- bye.”
The recording beeps and suddenly you’re speaking exactly what you’re thinking.
 “Joel…it’s me. I um-“ your voice cracks, a tear rolling down your cheek, “-I’m on my way to the airport right now…I just wanted to say bye. I walked over but you weren’t home even though I told you when I was leaving. Why are you doing this to me? I don’t understand…” 
The tears were flowing down your warm face, the driver nervously looking in his rear view mirror to check on you. You hang up the phone angrily before tossing it in your purse. What once was a beautiful view and lovely drive became a cry fest and blurred by tears. 
Within an hour the driver pulls up to the airport and helps you with your stuff, telling you to have a safe trip before driving off. So many couples littered the building inside, scattered off to the side either reuniting or departing, some leaving together. That should’ve been you and Joel. Ugly airport outfits and coffee in hand, laughing at the delusion that riddled your tired brains. 
You plop down on the bench near your gate and pull out your book, the faeries and mortals making it seem so much better than here. 
“You gonna read the whole time we’re in Michigan or?” That fucking voice. 
Joel.
You practically break your neck to turn and look at him, a filthy smirk plastered on his face. 
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