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depravitycentral · 4 months

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General Yandere! Kotarou Bokuto Profile

Yandere! Kotarou Bokuto x reader

TW: kidnapping, possessiveness, mentions of stalking, mentions of masturbation, allusions to somnophilia, Stockholm Syndrome, emotional manipulation, Ko uses you as his emotional support system, delusional behavior, nonconsensual physical affection/touch, vague allusions to non-con, mentions of physical abuse, Kotarou is extremely emotionally needy and physically touchy and just generally quite a handful, mentions of insecurity, fem reader, MDNI

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!

WC: 11K

DARLING PROFILE:

Introverted

Koutarou is a lot. He knows it, his team knows it, hell, the entire league knows it.

His energy is difficult to match; he’s a ray of sunshine, blinding yet impossible to look away from, someone with boundless amounts of energy, someone friendly and extraverted to an almost extreme.

Because he is so rambunctious and loud, he would actually really enjoy a partner who mellows him out a bit more, someone who isn’t constantly hyper and talkative and wanting to spend hours on end with other people.

He works well with Akaashi; who is quiet, calm and not as talkative, and his darling would likely reflect that in many ways – the serenity, the sense of peace and calmness, the idea that they aren’t constantly jumping with energy, constantly bursting at the seams to go do something.

Ideally though, he’d enjoy a partner who is still willing to talk, who’s willing to indulge him in conversation and compliment him and give him that adorable smile, just not a social butterfly like himself. It makes him feel privileged, special because his darling wants to speak to him, that they’re using their precious social battery on him him him.

He’s in awe that they start conversations with him; his darling, who so often doesn’t utter a word around crazy people such as himself, who sees someone as hyper as him and immediately run for the hills.

It makes his ego flare, and he can’t deny how adorable they are when they get embarrassed at his attention, when they roll their eyes and shove his shoulder lightly, when they freeze and cower as he loudly proclaims his love for them in the middle of the movie theater and everyone looks over.

He loves it, and it’s a nice bonus that it cuts down his competition - less dirty work for him, something Koutarou is very thankful for.

Creative

Volleyball is Kotarou’s life, and as a result he hasn’t had much time to explore anything outside of it. He’s never really tried his hand at painting, playing an instrument, baking, or really any other hobby.

And of course he loves the sport dearly, but there’s something alluring to the idea of a darling that’s invested in something so completely different from himself.

It doesn’t matter what the hobby is - cooking, drawing, writing, singing, it could be anything at all.

But once Kotarou finds out his darling enjoys it, suddenly he becomes obsessed with it, wanting to learn as much as he can and hone as many talents within it as possible. In his eyes, everything his darling does is perfect, so the thing that they love most (aside from him, of course) must be amazing, right? It must be worth his time to learn about it and become familiar with it, if only just to impress his darling, if only just to share even a scrap of the love they feel for it.

He’ll beg and pester his darling to teach him, constantly asking questions and carefully watching their answers.

Because rally, while Kotarou develops an interest in the activity because of his darling’s love, he also becomes familiar with the hobby because he lives for the way their eyes light up when they’re concentrating. They look absolutely gorgeous, even more beautiful than normal, something sparkling in their eyes.

His knees grow weak when he sees them biting their lip or sticking out their tongue in concentration, his feelings only growing ten-fold and becoming stronger because it’s just so incredibly endearing that his darling has something they love enough to be this devoted.

They get this ethereal glow about them and Kotarou genuinely can’t take his eyes off of them when they’re in that mode.

And so instead of listening to their instructions, he finds himself drifting into fantasies of them finally getting that glow and radiance when thinking about him. It’s what fuels him, what gives him energy.

He just wants his darling to adore him in the way that he adores them.

Nurturing

If his darling is anything, they have to be supportive.

Poor Kotarou is in constant need of reassurance, and his darling has to be willing to put up with that. They have to be willing to deal with the emotional labor of constantly praising him, of telling him wonderfully talented he is, how funny, how charming, how handsome, any and all compliments they can think of.

Their kind words go straight to his heart, making his body feel fuzzy and warm, an unstoppable grin stretches across his face and his words excited as he asks them really? Are you sure?

He’s overwhelmed by the idea of his darling thinking such thoughts about him - they think he’s strong? They think he’s talented? They think he’s amazing?

Needless to say, a few simple words of praise from his darling are enough to get Kotarou’s entire mood shifting, his metaphoric feathers ruffling and a pleasant, gooey feeling in his heart making him feel lighter than air because oh, they think he’s attractive and fun to be around?

He loves how easily they’re able to make him feel good about himself, and he can only hope to return the favor.

As a result, he’ll compliment his darling often, completely out of the blue and about odd, but strangely endearing things. He just wants them to feel how good they make him feel, and he’ll do anything to get them there.

Competitive

While his darling needs to be someone capable of spilling praise at a moment’s notice, Kotarou also finds himself attracted to those who has a healthy sense of competition in life.

As a professional athlete, he takes competition very seriously, and is also the type to find that a bit of competition is the perfect thing to spice up a relationship. He loves the idea of having a friendly rivalry with his darling – perhaps at something entirely stupid, like mini-golf or slugbugging or something equally childish.

Regardless, he likes the idea of his darling and him being playful together, of having someone he can establish that teasing rapport with. Besides, while he can sometimes be a bit of an emotional wreck, Kotarou finds emotional intelligence extremely attractive.

Thus, having a partner that’s capable of gracefully winning and losing is wildly attractive to him – they’re able to regulate themselves and put others’ thoughts and feelings into perspective.

He cares too much about other people to have a darling with little to no awareness of others’ feelings, and to have a darling that manages to merge in this awareness alongside a healthy appetite for competition and teasing?

Well, Kotarou finds himself falling hard and fast, loving the idea of a darling who’s so mature yet so wonderfully immature – perfect for someone like him.

(And, though he isn’t consciously thinking about it, perfect for a mother – he won’t explicitly bring up the topic of marriage and children, but he enters every relationship with the thought in mind, always hopeful that perhaps he’s finally found the right woman. And lucky him, he has – his wonderful, wonderful darling.)

GENERAL YANDERE TRAITS:

Clingy

He’s naturally quite affectionate with those around him, for better or worse. He’s always looking for someone to talk to, hang out with, goof around with, and once his feelings for you form, so lovely and horrible and overwhelming, this trait is only amplified.

It only increases monumentally with the absolute need to constantly be around you, to have your attention solely on him because god, seeing your pretty eyes focused on him makes his heart race so fast he thinks he’s dying.

He wants you to be looking at him at all times, thinking about him every minute of the day, be craving him as much as he craves you. He wants you to daydream about him smiling at you, making you bite your lip and stare at the ground while you fight back a flustered, school-girl-esque grin because god, isn’t he just so dreamy?

He wants you to be fantasizing about hugging him, feeling his strong, muscular arms wrapped around your body while he nuzzles into your neck, whispering your name in a hoarse voice that gets you shivering and nudging your thighs together because fuck, how can anyone sound that good?

Honestly, the idea of you thinking of him is enough to have him grinning with his eyes squeezed shut, a slight flush on his cheeks as he pumps his fist and lets out a victorious laugh.

(There have been quite a few instances of you patting him on the back, albeit awkwardly, to which he responded with a resounding hey, hey, hey! that sounded much too close to a moan and raised his fist to the sky – you’ve never understood why his voice gets all high and shaky like that, but somehow it seems you’d rather not know the answer.)

He thrives on your physical touch, your sweet words and glossy eyes staying fixed on him, and you’ll quickly notice how Koutarou always seems to just be around, how those golden eyes never really seem to leave, his gray and black hair standing out in your peripheral, followed shortly by a cheerful yell of your name and a bone crushing hug that makes you wheeze and shiver as you realize there’s something pressing into your thigh, oh god why is he hard and nuzzling his face into your neck and is he sighing?

It’s almost flattering at first – not expected, but sweet that he seems to feel so close to you, until it’s happening every day, every time he sees you – he’s always hugging you, holding your hand, ruffling your hair, calling you so cute, isn’t she Akaashi? Makes me wanna eat her right up!

It’s endearing and you’ll be flattered that a famous, attractive professional athlete is so obviously interested in you, but it becomes less and less endearing as time passes. It becomes less cute when he’s making some offhand comment about how you must’ve changed your shampoo – he distinctly remembers your hair smelling like strawberries, and now it has more of a lavender scent; but don’t worry, you smell great either way, cutie!

It becomes less flattering as he tells you while you’re being forced to sit in his lap as the team puts up the volleyball nets that you seemed like you were hesitant to come to practice with me today – is there something I don’t know about? Are you seeing someone else? What aren’t you telling me? It’s not nice to keep secrets from boyfriends, you know.

Quickly you’ll come to realize that Kotarou’s level of dependence on you is completely unwarranted for how close your relationship really is, but there isn’t much you can say to change this fact – he’s clingy, he needs your affection and attention, and when you ask Akaashi or Atsumu about it, about why he seems so needy and so obsessed with you, they’ll both write it off as Bokuto and his fleeting feelings, just his childish nature at work.

And when you try to confront him about it, to tell him that you’re uncomfortable with him suddenly springing up on you from behind, pinning you against a desk with his body looming over you while he inhales deeply and whispers about how pretty you look in your new skirt, he’ll just frown, pouting down at you while he whines about how he isn’t trying to be weird, that he just wants to show you how much he cares, how much he loves you.

He’ll only lean more weight on you, hug you tighter and whisper about how he knows you want this just as bad as he does, that it’s only normal for boyfriends to want to touch their girlfriends, to want to spend time with them and hear their compliments and care for each other.

It’s natural, he explains, to be always by your side, for you to never leave his field of vision – which is why you’ll find yourself coming to most MSBY practices and games decked out in the #12 spare jersey he not so subtly demanded you wear (that still very much has the fresh scent of a recent workout in it – something about pheromones and marking you, Kotarou had explained, with words too quick and slurred for you to really understand).

You’ll find yourself spending most of your meals either by his side or in his lap (trying to ignore the way a certain hardness presses against your ass if you move too much, if you’re squirmin’ so much cutiepie, you okay?).

You’ll be walked home everyday from your job and convinced to spend the evening with him, though he spends more time staring at you than watching the movie you’d thrown on.

And really, you can tell yourself every day that you’ll finally stand up to him, that you’ll finally end this bizarre, possessive behavior coming from a man you aren’t even dating, but each time you bring it up, those soft golden eyes will have you feeling like you’re kicking a puppy, his entire aura being shut down in a heartbeat at your stuttered I-I think we need to take some time apart…

Kotarou isn’t doing it on purpose, but you’ll be extremely hard pressed to ever really change the way he acts around you – it makes you feel too guilty, like you’re spinning the situation into so much more than it really is.

So, when you bite your lip and shake your head, giving him a shaky smile and telling him that you changed your mind, he’s beaming and letting out a cheer and scooping you into his arms to swing you around in circles, despite your demands that you must be too heavy to carry, that he’s making such a scene and the entire restaurant is staring and god, he just loves you so much, he knew you were meant for him and your acceptance only proves this!

It’s not so big a deal, right? Kotarou is mostly harmless, doesn’t mean anything weird by his touchiness, his desperation to be with you, right? It’s just a short term thing, soon his attention will move on, right?

Possessive

Kotarou, while incredibly empathetic and intuitive to other peoples’ emotions, does not handle his own especially well.

He’s terrible at stopping himself from having extreme highs and lows over the pettiest things, and this doesn’t stop at just volleyball, at just his normal life – no, his love for you is most definitely affected by this as well. Namely, in the form of jealousy; he’s a firm believer in faithfulness and loyalty, in the idea that you have one and only one partner, that they should be enough for you and that other men and women are essentially just background noise for the real one, the one that makes your heart race, your palms sweat and a lovely sort of nervousness to grow in the pit of your stomach.

He’s always believed in this, and once his infatuation with you forms, this philosophy most certainly doesn’t change; if anything, he clings onto the idea with frantic fingers, clutching at the concept of you looking at no one else for any reason whatsoever.

He’s plagued with the fear that someone will try and interfere with your relationship, that someone will come along and try and tear the two of you apart – he’s terrified of losing you, of losing who he genuinely believes to be his true love to some other man, to some other loser who decided you were pretty and would be a fun catch.

Kotarou is self-aware enough to know that he isn’t the ideal man, that you likely don’t love his mood swings, his habits of switching emotions quicker than you can likely keep up. He knows this, which is why it makes it so much more painful when that coworker of yours starts talking to you more, looking at you with such light and happy eyes, staring at you with what Kotarou is absolutely sure is a blush on his cheeks, when he’s leaning in way too much.

His possessiveness flares up especially in his sadder moments – when he’s already spiraling into a fit of self-doubt, it’s easy to read too far into any situation in which your gaze flickers over to another guy, easy to over examine the way you quickly apologize after bumping into a player on the opposite team in the hallway.

It’s so fucking easy to feel like his place as your rightful partner, as your lover and boyfriend and future husband is being threatened when he sees literally anyone approach you – because really, Kotarou can’t help but wonder if you’d like them more, if maybe you’re only nice to him and letting him hug you, compliment you, and everything else because you feel sorry for him, because you’re pitying him.

And it’s those thoughts that drive him to march up to you and pull you into his chest, to press your ear against his heart while he buries his face in your hair, tears streaming down his cheeks as he asks in a whisper if he’s still enough, if you’ve found someone else, if you even really love him.

And really, as disarming and disorienting as it is, there’s some part of you that will feel bad for him, that will want to comfort this man so obviously in need of praise, so obviously in need of someone to tell him that yes, he’s enough, yes you love him and you’ll always love him.

Even if it’s not true – even if it’s just something you’re saying out of a misplaced sense of guilt, even if it’s something you’ll find yourself horribly regretting the deeper into delusion Kotarou sinks. And so, as you promise that you do in fact want him, that you need him as badly as he needs you and that you’ll never, ever leave him, Kotarou slowly begins to relax, melting into your arms and trying to calm his ragged breaths, the racing of his heart, the tears flowing down his cheeks.

It’s difficult, but as he pulls back and sees your confused, beautiful fucking face, a small smile makes its way onto his lips, the knowledge that you’ll never leave him ringing in his head. Because really, how could he ever ask for anything more?

All he needs is you you you, and now that you’ve promised him, he’ll hold you to it. And when you’re trapped by his side some time later, those strong arms wrapped suffocatingly tight around your waist and his grin big and dopey and scary as he promises to never, ever let you leave his side, you’ll really only have yourself to blame. Because really, while Kotarou’s jealousy manifests mostly as self-deprication and an increased need for your reassurance and praise, ultimately you’ll be the one to push forward his dependence on you.

You’re the one telling him that he’s wonderful, that you’re not interested in any other men, that he’s every girl’s dream. It’s small things that slowly build up, feeding into Kotarou’s delusions until he’s too far gone to really even listen to you anymore; picking and choosing what he wants to hear from you, twisting your words into some grand declaration of love that gets him smiling like a fool, crushing you into his arms and leaving your lips bruised with the ferocity of his kisses.

You’re just so perfect, huh?

Delusional

But in an extremely specific way – on his own, Kotarou isn’t a particularly delusional man. He’s tied to his beliefs, yes, but he’s grounded and lucid enough to understand the importance of seeing multiple perspectives, of listening to others, of staying in touch with reality and not letting himself get too carried away.

And this is still true in the beginnings of his obsession – he knows that you’re just friends, that you have a budding friendship that he’d like to progress into something more, something deeper and more romantic in its origin. And he’s strict about this for a long time – going to Akaashi for dating advice or asking the ever-grumpy Sakusa how he thinks Kotarou should approach you.

(Akaashi gives much, much more insightful advice than his teammate, of course – telling Kotarou to take things slow and listen to what you want, to let you guide the pace and direction of the relationship. Sakusa merely scoffs and tells him to stop being loud and irritating, and you might have a shot.)

And Kotarou sticks to this advice well in the beginning – establishing a positive connection with you and letting you get comfortable, your friendship blossoming and growing into one that you can foresee being one of your most cherished.

But then elements of his infatuation begin developing, and suddenly that advice gets a bit warped, his understanding of your intentions slowly crumbling away because of one critical, crucial factor: Kotarou grows an incredibly strong sense of attachment towards you.

He’s already quite physically touchy and needy as it is, but as his obsession with you progresses, this dependency morphs into not only the more tactile side of things, but his mental state as well. He quickly grows to absolutely need you in every sense of the word; you’re something that keeps him tethered, grounded. Your love and attention is something that he needs in order to survive, in order to wake up everyday and get himself out of bed because he knows that he’ll get to see you today, to hug you and touch you and maybe even kiss you if he can catch you off guard enough.

Within the span of a few months after he recognizes that his feelings for you are more romantic than platonic, Koutarou’s entire mental health and wellbeing revolves around you and the attention you give him.

The advice of his friends still rings through his head, but he instead begins interpreting your actions as you wanting to foster this dependency of his. He thinks that you’re aware of his brewing feelings, and that you feel the same way – surely that’s what you mean when you always praise him, right? His every action comes back to you; he hits a spike in a match he got you exclusive, front-row player’s box seats for?

Well, he’s immediately peering up into the stands, golden eyes frantically searching for you, and once he spots you he’s waving like a madman, blowing obnoxious kisses at you, proudly exclaiming that was for you babe! And he’ll keep going until you acknowledge him, until you give him a thumbs up and a toothy smile, until you yell back that you’re so proud of you, Ko!

(Of course, the phrasing of ‘babe’ is a bit suspect, but you’ll blame it on mishearing him in the loud, packing stadium.)

When he tries out a new recipe for a particular dish he knows you love, he’s eager to call you, begging you to drop whatever it is you’re doing and swing by his apartment to try because he really, really needs you to say you like it.

(He’ll be watching with rapt attention as you hover the fork to your lips, practically not breathing as he watches you chew and swallow, his palms so sweaty and clammy that he nearly drops the pan in excitement when you compliment the food. Don’t pay attention to the way he gulps loud enough for you to hear, nor the way he grabs you by the waist and spins you around, laughing that booming laugh of his and seeming much too joyous for a simple well-cooked meal.)

Everything comes back to the basic principal that Koutarou just wants desperately to impress you – he thrives on your praise, seeing you proud of him and happy to call him yours, and he’s leaping at each and every possible chance to achieve that, to make you laugh and wrap your arms around him, to whisper into his ear that you’re so proud baby, I know you worked so hard, now what’dya say we go home and I reward you for all that hard work, just how you like it?

He’s committed to being your dream partner, to being someone you can proudly call your own, and he quite literally needs you praise and validation in every aspect of his life to solidify his delusions about the way you feel for him – your opinion is something he values over his own life, your presence something he genuinely believes he can’t live without, and so to have you by his side constantly, always smiling at him and making him feel so giddy and happy is something that Kotarou really honestly needs.

The bottom line is that his entire emotional and mental state rests firmly upon your shoulders, firmly upon your reactions to the things he does for you – so keep that in mind as he rushes up to you with the excitement and energy of a puppy, ranting and raving about how he managed to hit one of Atsumu’s new kinds of tosses or block one of Hinata’s best spikes.

Keep it in mind as he presses you flush against his body, his face buried into your neck, his audible inhale and whimper that vibrates against your skin making a shiver shoot up your spine in anything but pleasure. Keep in mind that now it’s your responsibility to keep Kotarou happy, that your job is essentially to make sure that he stays at least somewhat stable.

(With the pressure coming from the entire management staff of the MSBY team, who’ve realized that Kotarou has a bit of a massive crush on you – you, who isn’t doing the best financially, who could very much not survive a class-action lawsuit for ruining one of their star players.)

And once he’s stolen away, it’s your responsibility to keep him happy so that he keeps leaving the apartment, leaving you, making sure that you have enough food and water to survive, so that his depressive episodes don’t cost you your life.

So really, have fun; because eventually the emotional toll will hit you, but don’t worry because Kotarou will be right there to help pick you up again.

DEALING WITH RIVALS:

Because his jealous streak is really quite strong, Koutarou has a tendency to misinterpret nearly every single interaction you have with a member of the opposite sex.

He’s automatically assuming that everyone is interested in you, that everyone wants to date you and make you smile and kiss you and fuck you, all of which are things that only he should be allowed to do. He’s jumping to conclusions before things really even happen, sure that you’ll somehow be manipulated into leaving him, into leaving the happy, loving relationship you share with him.

It’s a fear that permeates his every moment when he’s away from you (something that is admittedly quite rare, but still), that seeps into the back of his mind no matter how hard he tries to convince himself that you love him, that you’d never cheat on him or trade him in for someone better.

Of course, he trusts you enough to not immediately act upon his jealousy when he notices another man in your vicinity. Rather, he’ll start demanding your attention even more, trying to keep you physically turned away from the stranger and keep your eyes focused only on Kotarou, because if you can’t see the man, the man can’t see you, right?

It’s poor logic, and Kotarou panics the entire time he tries to stall, only able to imagine the way you’d look by this new man’s side.

And at the end of the day, that’s really it – Kotarou knows that he’s not perfect. You, with your lovely figure, beautiful face, wonderful personality, and many talents, could really get any guy of your choice. So why would you want him?

He seems confident, like he has no doubts about himself and his abilities, and for the most part he doesn’t, but there’s just something about you that makes him constantly reanalyze himself, that makes him wonder if he’s really enough, if he could ever really be enough for someone as perfect as you.

Sure he’s athletic, friendly, handsome, kind, but he’s not the number one hitter in the league, not the brightest, not the most charming, not the best looking or most mysterious or funniest or any number of other things that you might find more attractive.

And as time passes this eats away at Kotarou’s mind, driving him insane the longer it occupies the back of his thoughts because he just can’t shake the image of you in another man’s arms, laughing and kissing them and just being so fucking happy without him.

He’s dependent on you to an unhealthy degree, absolutely fixated on the idea of needing you in his life, and so Kotarou doesn’t really hold back in terms of trying to control his jealousy – he knows he needs to step in before you even get the chance to be lulled in by some other man. He needs to interfere before he loses you forever, and while he knows you’re probably embarrassed by how he barges in anytime you talk to someone else, Kotarou doesn’t let it hold him back.

Nothing can hold him back in the face of something as terrifying as losing you.

You’d never pegged Kotarou as one for video games, but when he’d dragged you to the new arcade that opened up a few blocks from his house, he practically seemed like a child in a toystore.

With his hand wrapped tightly around yours, he’d led you through row after row of game machines, golden eyes wide as he pointed to each and every one, promising you that he’d beat this one in two tries, or that one with his eyes closed. It’d been endearing in a way, watching how excited he’d gotten, before he dragged you over to a game in the far corner with especially bright lights and all sorts of noises coming from it.

He’d challenged you, telling you with a booming laugh that he’d bet you couldn’t beat him, a challenge you eagerly accepted. And really, while he’d been mildly embarrassed to sheepishly admit he’d run out of quarters after his fifth try through the game, it didn’t stop him from practically sprinting up to the ticketing counter, digging in his wallet for the largest dollar bill he had on hand to trade in. Leaving you alone at the game, biting your lip and reading over all the cartoon-style text decorating the game’s exterior.

You were so engrossed in the game’s appearance that you didn’t hear the blond man’s calls to you, shy little excuse me’s falling on deaf ears. Soon a tapping at your shoulder tapped you out of your reverie, spinning around to come face to face with a man you’d never seen before. Sandy blond hair and thick rimmed glasses sitting atop a rather brightly colored dress shirt and dark jeans.

Do you know how to play? Even his voice seemed timid, and while you were a bit shocked at his question, you’d only smiled and said no, hoping the man would drop some hints on ways to beat Kotarou – hearing his boasting was worse than hearing his moping, after all.

The man seemed relieved, moving forward to restart the game and talking you through the level, telling you tips on when to jump, which treasure chests were worth more, tricks on how to move the toggle piece, even telling you that the game would sometimes glitch and delete off ten seconds to your total time if you moved just right.

You’d thanked him profusely, excitement brewing in your chest at the thought of how you would crush Kotarou, but the sudden feeling of being watched washed over you and left you stiffening up, no longer paying attention to the stranger’s words.

In less than a moment, you were suddenly pushed from behind, spun around so that your back was pressed against the arcade wall, the breath knocked out of your lungs and Kotarou’s face – fit with a scowl – filling up your entire view.

Your surprised yelp was cut off by him suddenly lunging forward, his lips settling onto yours hard enough to make you flinch a bit. He kissed you roughly, loudly, the sound of wet smacking filling your ears and surely the stranger’s, if his facial expression was anything to go by. With red cheeks and a shocked look spread across his features, the man was quick to stutter an apology and speed off, trying to avoid the sight of Kotarou pressing you tighter against the wall and the sound of his groans and grunts.

As soon as the man was out of sight, Kotarou pulled back, licking his lips and looking at you with something akin to hunger swirling in those golden eyes.

Who was that?

Is all he got out, hands still firmly placed at your waist.

Your shock barred you from answering right away, before a resounding smack rung through his ears, the mild pain of your slap to his chest leaving him winded, the pleasant sensation of you touching him numbing out some of the hot, angry envy in his veins.

What the hell was that, Kotarou? You practically yell at him, the sound drowned out by the ringing of a few games nearby.

Kotarou only sighs, squeezing your sides and fixing you with an unblinking stare.

That man was bothering you, couldn’t he see you were here with me?

At your bewildered look, he merely laughed, one hand coming up to teasingly ruffle your hair. Don’t worry about it, I’m sure he’ll leave us alone for the rest of the day. Now c’mon, I got more quarters – watch me win!

And just like that, he seemed to have forgotten all about the rather heated, intimate moment he’d instigated – all smiles and laughter and taunts for the rest of the day as you shakily and wearily settled by his side, trying to rationalize that perhaps it looked different to an outsider.

Perhaps Kotarou thought the man was bothering you, and was worried he’d only get the hint through extreme measures. And he’s always been a bit extreme and exaggerated, surely he meant nothing by the kiss – even if it had been rather graphic, even if he’d been practically moaning at just the taste of you.

That must be it, you decide, as Kotarou whines and pouts about losing the level once more, begging you to give him just one more try. The small, half-hearted smile you give him is enough permission for him, and just that look settles the raging jealousy in his heart.

You were looking at him again, just as you should be – him and him only.

(And later that night, that’s what’s falling past his lips in a mantra as he vividly remembers the feel of your body in his hands, your lips pressed against his own, the smell of you clouding his every breath.)

TAKING HIS DARLING AWAY:

Kotarou’s infatuation with you is, in most ways, strange.

He’s utterly obsessed, of course – his every waking moment is either revolving around volleyball or you, often times mixing and jumbling up so that he’s imagining all sorts of things that get him grinning like a fool, his cheeks bright red and his breathing too heavy to be considered normal.

(Things like seeing you wear his jersey, for example, or having you toss him a ball that he smacks so hard it hurts, seeing your impressed and flustered expression as he teases you about how strong he is. The kind of thing that makes his chest swell with pride, that makes him bite his lip and clutch at his covers late at night when he’s dreaming and wanting and needing you.)

His feelings for you carelessly breach any sort of trust or boundaries between the two of you, and for the most part Kotarou doesn’t see an issue with this.

Of course you probably don’t like when he checks the tracker he’d installed into your phone, but it’s just for safety and he’s sure you’ll eventually understand! It’s unsafe to let someone like you travel around alone at night (or in the day, or in crowded streets or public parks or even in the safety of your own home-).

He’s just taking an extra precaution to make sure someone’s got an eye on you – he’d be more than happy to install a tracker into his phone for you to keep tabs on his location too, if you’d like. (And oh, he wishes you’d like that.)

You’re probably not the biggest fan of when he wraps an arm around you in public, beaming and planting a wet, long kiss against your temple as he greets you, walking to your favorite coffee shop with his arm still wrapped around you, migrating down to your waist and making walking uncomfortable while he prattles on and on about his latest training regiment.

(And sure, maybe he’s exaggerating just a hair about how much he can bench press, or how fast his serves are, but those golden eyes of his are constantly scanning your expressions, looking for even the slightest hint of awe, analyzing any signs that you’re impressed with his physical prowess, his dedication. Impressed by him, really.)

And so really, Kotarou breaks every physical and intangible barrier and wall that you have down, slowly and bit by bit until you’re so desensitized to his antics and his behavior towards you that you stop questioning it. You’re not exactly supportive of the possessive, overly clingy way he treats you, but it’s just Kotarou, so really how harmful can it be? He’s just a silly, overgrown puppy of a man, and why should you ever be afraid of him?

And Kotarou’s feelings towards your living situation reflect this sentiment – that is, he absolutely does not want to kidnap you.

Not only does he find the term entirely unapplicable to your situation if he were to steal you away (because he’s convinced that on some core level you’d actually be pleased, like you want him to whisk you away and keep you wrapped up in his apartment as his little housewife), but it leaves an unpleasant taste in his mouth to imagine keeping you cooped up in one place all the time.

He loves to be out with you, to take you to markets and restaurants and movies and all sorts of other things – he likes having you out in public. It stresses him out a bit, yes, constantly being vigilant and aware of any man that tries to approach you, but by and large he finds that he enjoys your company most and enjoys showing you off most when you’re not all alone at home.

That isn’t to say that he dislikes cozy movie nights spent on his couch with now-cold takeout sprawled across the table, but there’s just something special about seeing you laugh so hard you cry because of him in a busy, sunny street café where everyone can see just how entertained you are by him.

(Those cozier evenings are of course favorites of him, though, because he gets to see a more intimate side of you – when you get sleepy and your eyes start drooping, he has to physically hold himself back from cooing and squishing your cheeks. And especially when you fall asleep on his shoulder or shift just right so that he worm his way into your arms, noticing how your flimsy sleeping shorts ride up just a hair to expose the lower curve of your ass, his mouth is left watering and his own shorts feel uncomfortably tight – something he'd be absolutely crazy to dislike.)

And so, Kotarou will hold off for as long as possible on stealing you away, just for the selfish reason of being able to drag you to all his games, to pretty dates (that you aren’t aware are dates, of course, but that’s just a technicality), to keep you happy and excited and free by his side.

But if things were to go south and you started to really critically analyze his behavior and decide that you don’t want to remain in his life?

Well, Kotarou has never quite felt panic like when you swing by his apartment one last time to announce that you’re moving away. He’s never quite felt a level of dismay like when you tell him you’ll be blocking his number because he’s made you uncomfortable, or when you tell him you’ll be crashing at a male friend’s place.

And really, that last portion is the kicker – it sends Kotarou’s mind spiraling, panic engulfing him and leading him to grab you, his hands shaking as he holds you, eyes flashing as he drags you to his bedroom, holding you down on the bed and using a spare t-shirt to tie up your wrists and ankles.

He’s never known fear like this before, and as he stares down at you – writhing, looking at him with tears in your eyes, looking at him –

He’s never quite known excitement like this before, either.

As a captor, Kotarou isn’t terrible – with one glaring exception: he’s needy. You’ve known this for as long as you’ve known him, but once you’re trapped in his home this is only amplified, the clinginess getting worse and worse because you have no way to dissuade his touchiness, no way to distract him away with outside people and activities.

No, now it’s strictly you and him – which is heaven for Kotarou, exactly what he’s been fantasizing about come to life.

Unfortunately for you, this means excessive time spent together and a lot of physical contact. Though his delusions aren’t quite deep enough to fully mask the fact that you’re unhappy, Kotarou is able to chalk up your lack of enthusiasm for things you did pre-kidnapping as you simply being moody, shy, womanly.

It’s infuriating how much he blames your behavior on your hormones and menstrual cycle.

He’s practically impossible to deal with once your period begins, his touches soft and gentle and nearly scared, treating you like you’re some breakable, delicate piece of treasure that can’t do anything on your own.

He’ll cook meals for you, then promptly bring the chopsticks up to your mouth and say ahh, smiling like a fool as he guides the ramen past your lips, nodding enthusiastically when you chew.

He’ll hold your hand and help you walk around the apartment, big eyes wide and worried when you near any corners, terrified that you’ll somehow hurt yourself because you’re distracted with cramp pain or simply having brain fog. And really, it would be endearing how earnestly he’s trying to make you comfortable and provide for you during your time of the month, but there’s something truly humiliating about the level of disregard he feels for your complaints, simply smiling lopsidedly at you and telling you don’t worry, I’ll make it all better! I’ve got some of that chocolate you like, you want some? I can heat up your heating pad too, and we can watch some old reruns of my games – you’d like that, right? You like watching me play, yeah?

And really, that’s the main thing with Kotarou – the level of care and attention he both gives to you and demands from you is incredibly draining.

The constant feeling of walking on eggshells around him is enough to have your mind running in circles, constantly worried that you’ll say the wrong thing about his personality or his actions and have him moping, convinced that you’re just being mean because you’re disappointed in him, that you’re just playing hard to get because he hasn’t been treating you like you deserve. And so how does he respond to this?

By giving you more attention, swamping you with questions and touches and all sorts of things for the two of you to do together. He’s always forcing you onto the couch to try out a new video game Akinori mentioned when he last ran into him, or watching a scary movie and clutching onto you for dear life at every jump scare.

(He thinks it’s romantic, but the slight bruising left on your thighs and sides from his very, very tight grip are less sweet.)

He’s just generally so very out of touch with how you’re feeling that it’s infuriating – but you have to be careful, because everything you do and say will only cause him to grasp onto you tighter, clutching onto you with more strength than you can handle because his entire mental wellbeing is still resting firmly on your shoulders. He forces you to sleep in bed beside him, waking up to you tangled in his arms every morning, starting his day off right and making it slightly easier to leave you for early morning trainings.

(He has to wake up with you every morning or else he feels like something’s off, his performance severely lacking and the only thing that can fix it being excessive affection from you – something a bit difficult to come by.)

He forces you to share meals with him because it gives him a reason to unabashedly stare at you (though he does this anyway, frequently) and watch as you eat the food he provided you. He has to be the sole one cooking or buying you take out, because it feeds the narrative he’s crafted in his head that he’s your provider, that he’s taking care of you, that he’s being a good male partner and spoiling his perfect little wife.

(Of course, you may not be married yet, but to Kotarou it’s just a matter of time – you’re already entwined in every possible way, living together and spending every waking moment together, so why bother with formal ceremonies and official titles when he can just buy a diamond and slip onto your finger with a toothy grin and a much too long and much too detailed declaration of his love? Of course, if you want the ceremony he’d be more than willing to give it to you, but he’s content with the knowledge that you’re his and his alone already.)

So really, if you can handle his hands constantly being on you, his lips always pressed against your skin, his voice always ringing in your ears, and his presence always a looming shadow over you demanding your praise and attention and time, Kotarou isn’t terrible.

There’s shades of genuine love in how he treats you – the gentleness in his touches, the tenderness of his compliments, the way he’ll moan into your ear the most adoring, utterly pathetic things as he settles himself between your legs.

There’s evidence that he truly loves you in some horrible, twisted way, but it all just feels like too much. Too forceful, too desperate, too passionate, too him.

But no amount of trying to get through to him will ever change the way he treats you, or ever persuade him into loosing the metaphorical lease he keeps you on – you’re his, and no matter how hard you try Kotarou will always firmly believe that fate has brought you together.

And isn’t that so romantic?

PUNISHMENTS:

In general, it’s rare for Kotarou to get genuinely angry at you.

Of course he has his highs and lows – he may be unwilling to seriously listen to your complaints or insults hurled at him, but he’s not inhuman. He still knows that you’re being mean – criticizing him and visibly displeased with him, and just that fact alone has his eyes drooping, guilt, self-pity and shame resting heavily on his shoulders.

His delusions about your feelings for him bar him from fully comprehending that your anger lies in the fact that he’s kidnapped you rather than not cuddling with you the night before, but he can still tell that something is amiss. He doesn’t like when you aren’t smiling and happy, when you’re bothered and troubled, when you aren’t acting like you used to, back before he relocated you to his apartment.

It’s upsetting, really, and it leaves Kotarou desperate to figure out how to get a grin back onto your lips, how to make you laugh, how to please you again. A lot of Kotarou’s anger and punishments stem from a place of insecurity and worry about your perception of him – he’s really quite sensitive, especially coming from someone he idolizes and reveres as much as you, and so his solutions to any sort of non-desirable behavior from you is to simply try harder.

It’s seemed to have worked in his career – hours upon hours upon hours spent lagging after practices to work on his spikes just a bit more, to serve just a few more balls, to get just a bit better.

And he applies this same principle with you – he’d rather pull his nails off one by one than physically hurt you or deny you of food and water or leave you all alone or any number of things he could do to force your codependency on him to become stronger.

And so, Kotarou wracks his brain for any and all possibilities on how to get you to like him more, on how to make you happy, on how to be a better boyfriend.

And frankly, it results in a much, much worse time for you.

If you thought Kotarou was clingy before you yelled at him for installing locks on his windows, then he’s downright glued to your side afterwards, his breath constantly fanning on your cheeks and his voice seemingly never ending as it rings over and over and over in your ears.

If you thought being in the same room as him was difficult before you slapped him across the face for giving your ass a playful squeeze, it’s nothing compared to how he plants more and more kisses onto your unwilling lips, leaving pretty dresses and lacy lingerie out on your (forcefully shared) bed for you, the way he starts piling on the compliments with such frequency and urgency that it nearly makes you sick.

Kotarou has always been a lot, truly, and once his feelings for you are thrown into the mix he becomes too much – and when you’re angry at him, ignoring him or hurling insults at him or denying his affection?

Well, the sadness quickly dissipates into fear, anxiety eating at every inch of his body because what if you hate him now?

You’re meant for one another, sure, but what if he’s messed it all up by not being enough for you?

It’s the stuff of nightmares, and in order to correct it he’ll instead become your nightmare.

You hear him before you see him – his keys jingle loudly in his pocket, the rhythmic noises of the padlock on the front door locking back up sounding too familiar now. You’re sitting at the dining table, staring down at the new book Kotarou had gifted you a week ago – you’ve read it twice already in that span of time, but as his footsteps approach the kitchen area, you resolve to read it once again.

His voice is loud as he calls your name, and you can hear the smile on his face as his footsteps quicken, his pace nearly turning to a run as he approaches you. His arms are around you before you can stop them, his words already pouring out as he starts telling you all about his day, rambling on about how Meian and Hinata had promised to take Kotarou out to a new bar later this week.

He’s still hugging you as he goes on to tell you that it’s supposed to be super good, I’ll have to let you know how it is! Maybe I can bring something home for you – I know your favorite’s always been –

Your mouth is moving before you can even really stop yourself, the words seeming to burst out without your control. Don’t tell me about all your plans in the outside world – not when I’m stuck here wasting away in this fucking apartment.

Your voice is low, uneven, and immediately Kotarou tenses, his eyebrows drawing together into a pout. What are you talking about? I just want to bring you a good drink and maybe we can watch that trashy rom-com you love and –

You cut him off again by harshly shaking off his arms from around you, moving your elbows out in an attempt to get him off of you.

Don’t you get it? I don’t want you to get me a drink! I don’t want you to do anything for me – you need to let me go, Kotarou. You can’t keep me stuck here forever! I should be out there getting a drink too, and going to the fucking store and seeing my friends and living my life! You’re – you’re a terrible person, and I hate you!

Your chest is heaving by the time you finish your spiel, having started off in that same low tone but eventually getting to a yell. He’d backed off of you, watching you with wide eyes and a dropped jaw, his mind racing and trying to understand what you could possibly mean.

Stuck here? What were you saying?

You were happy here – you always return his hugs and his kisses and let him pull you closer to his chest at night and laugh at his jokes and smile at him and say you love him to and and and –

He moves back towards you, going to wrap his arms around you again, but this time you stand up and scurry off to the other end of table and now Kotarou can see the way your eyes are glossy, how you’re on the verge of tears and your lip is trembling.

Leave me alone, I can’t stand you! Not after what you’ve done to me!

And with that, you turn tail and run off to the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind you. Behind the door your hands shake, the tears finally falling as you slide down the wood, landing in a sitting position and cursing Kotarou for not putting locks on the interior doors.

A fresh wave of tears falls down your cheeks as you realize you can’t even use the toilet in peace, not without the constant, lingering threat of him watching you. It’s too much, and soon your head is in your hands, sobs wracking your body.

Meanwhile, Kotarou is still standing frozen, his heart and mind racing because you’re obviously upset. He doesn’t know why you’re overreacting like this, but the image of you with tears in your eyes pulls at his heartstrings, prompting him to rush and grab his car keys once more, flying out the front door and practically speeding to the nearest store, his grocery cart full.

He’s home roughly twenty minutes later, tears already pooling in his own eyes because the more he’s thought about the state you’re in the more he comes to the conclusion that it’s his fault, that he must’ve made you angry or sad and now he has to fix it.

He has to show you that you don’t hate him – you’re just having a rough day, that’s all. You’re just sad that he’s been gone all day and hasn’t been home to give you the proper love and care that you deserve. His fingers grip the steering wheel tightly even to leave his knuckles white, his teeth grinding and gritting together as he presses down on the gas gauge just a hair harder, desperation and guilt weighing heavily in his chest because god, he hates seeing you so upset.

And as he races back up to the apartment with all the groceries in his arms, he’s quick to wrap his fist against the bathroom door, asking in a breathless voice if you’re okay or if you’re hurt.

You’re still quietly crying, sniffling heavily and trying to ignore him as he knocks again. He knows he could bust the door open, easily overpowering you and giving him direct access to you, but the hurt look in your eyes flashes through his mind again and he decides against it. No, he needs to prove that he’s good enough at reading you and figuring out what you need – he needs to prove himself to you, to make you like him again.

He calls your name through the door again, before resting his forehead against the wood and wincing. I’m sorry for whatever I did, baby, I promise I didn’t mean it!

He hears you scoff at that, and bites his lip.

You know me, sometimes I just get carried away! I never meant to make you upset, you’ve got to know that. He pauses, shifting around the bags in his arms. You mean so much to me, I love you. I love you more than I think I should, but it’s okay! I’ll be better for you, I promise. I’ll be a better boyfriend and I’ll make you happy. Just – you just have to let me try, okay? Please baby, let me try.

It’s silent for a moment, and Kotarou’s chest feels tight.

Please, he tries one last time.

And although you know you shouldn’t and that you’ll regret it, some small part of you almost feels bad as you hear him sniffle through the wood, the sound of him crying obvious. You bite your lip, a small voice in the back of your head quietly wondering if you should believe him.

After all, does he really make you that unhappy? He’s always so eager and pathetically excited when you smile at him, and is it really so bad to have someone give you all their attention and time? You’re ashamed to admit some part of you almost likes it, and soon your body is moving before you can stop it.

The door opens and Kotarou’s heart is in his throat, the sight of you with red, puffy eyes and your lip caught between your teeth making something between a sigh of relief and a whimper slip from him.

The multitude of bags precariously balanced in his arms immediately have your eyes widening, the names of your favorite snacks peeking through the sacks and making that same pang in your heart twist again, the knowledge that he went out and bought all of this for you just because you were sad forcing you to take a step forward.

You don’t say anything, and Kotarou stares at you with wide eyes, a wild sort of look overtaking his parted lips and pink cheeks, and when you mumble something small, he has to physically strain himself to hear you.

You repeat your favorite drink, swallowed harshly and struggling to make eye contact with him. He mouths it back to himself, before slowly, shyly, smiling down at you.

You won’t regret, I promise! He laughs, the sound relieved, dropping all of the shopping bags on the ground and immediately scooping you into his arms, hugging you so tightly you nearly can’t breath, all the while that familiar, chiming laughter fills your ears.

I love you, I love you, I love you he repeats into your ear, keeping you close and occasionally squeezing tighter.

And even as something crumbles up inside you, you find yourself wrapping your arms around him too, shoving your face against his chest and nodding, your words muffled as you murmur the smallest I love you, too back.

And Kotarou can only beam down at you, repeating the phrase over and over until all the words start slurring together, until all you can do is slowly relax into the warmth of his arms, into the feeling of someone completely and utterly loving you.

OVERALL DANGER:

6/10

Kotarou is less dangerous and honestly more pathetic than anything else.

He’s a fully grown man who’s desperate for someone to love, whose desperation becomes so deeply ingrained in his feelings towards you that he clutches onto you and never lets go.

Reading into your feelings festers delusions about how you feel towards him, feeding him pretty lies about how you really feel and what your actions really mean.

He builds a relationship between the two of you in his head, growing closer and more intimate with you than socially acceptable for a friendship, becoming more and more dependent on you and the praise you so willingly give him.

It’s heaven, really, and it leaves Kotarou blinded to the ugly side of his obsession.

He’s clingy and overly possessive, always touching you and calling you his and making sure that everyone sees the two of you together – that everyone knows that you’re his woman and he’s your man.

He wants to make sure that your relationship – fake or not – is idyllic, that you’re so happy with him that you could never even dream of wanting another man, never even entertain the notion of needing anyone else because Kotarou is everything you could ever want.

And while he won’t explicitly acknowledge any behavior that clashes with the pretty image of you and your love that he’s crafted in his head, he’s not immune to your negative reception of his touches and his rather aggressive affection.

You’ll have to walk on eggshells around him, careful to keep him from falling deeply into a spiral that could lead to your own slow demise being trapped under his thumb.

It’s stressful, a lifestyle that’ll leave you haggard and spent, tired to the point where slowly it will stop feeling like an act to return his hugs, to compliment his muscles, to tell him that you missed him while he was away at work.

It will feel less and less like a lie, the words slipping off your tongue so easily that it’ll leave you scared.

Because really, while Kotarou is overbearing and quite honestly scary with the way he barrels forwards and takes whatever he wants from you, eventually you’ll find yourself less and less angry, and more and more complacent. It could be worse, couldn’t it?

You have a warm bed to sleep in, a roof over your head, and food to eat.

And the man that holds you flush to his chest in said bed, pays the rent for said roof, and hand-selects only meals he knows you like can’t possibly be that bad, right?

After all, doesn’t it feel good to be needed?

#_kotarou bokuto #_lee's profiles #_haikyuu #yandere haikyuu #yandere bokuto #yandere kotaro bokuto #yandere kotarou bokuto #yandere haikyuu x reader #yandere bokuto x reader #yandere kotarou bokuto x reader

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drdemonprince · 7 months

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Not gonna lie it is quite emotionally dispiriting for a certain category of people online to treat me like i'm a flagrant covid denier who doesnt mask or care about disabled people simply because i'm like "oh hey, your grandmother who doesn't wear a mask is a victim of the same systemic forces as you." or "hey, profound social isolation takes a toll on people that impacts their health and their behavior and that must be included in our risk calculations and mitigation strategies whether we like it or not"

like. i mask. i test. i get vaccinated/boosted. i communicate risk factors to people. i plan outdoor events when i can. i fight to not have in person engagements at work tooth and nail and often at personal expense.

but even if i never did any of those things, i would not deserve to get sick and die, because there are no morally acceptable COVID deaths, no matter what choices a person makes or doesn't make, no matter which mitigations they do or fail to do.

one of my close friends just got fired because her boss said she was "taking covid too seriously." that's the kind of evil we are up against here. not like, your friend's friend going to a concert and forgeting his mask in his other jacket that one time. that guy's still doing better than 90% of americans by having a mask he carries around with him in his jacket. he's not some eugenicist demon. he's some guy living in really miserable and difficult circumstances who made a to-be-expected-sometimes human error. and your grandma who has been propagandized into believing that COVID isn't a big deal (while in actuality being quite high risk herself) is a victim not an evildoer.

way to win over more people to your cause guys. very public health minded of you to view anyone who doesn't perfectly meet your behavioral and ideological standards as an enemy. way to punish the behavior you want. it fucking sucks man.

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kooahae · 5 months

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HATE THE CLUB

Pairing : Idol Namjoon x non idol female reader

Summary: You can’t stay away from him - at least that’s what it feels like the universe is telling you. You and the man of your dreams, somewhere that you both hate, just to end up in a place you both love- his bed.

Genre: very mild angst, fluff, smut.

Warnings: oral (f) receiving, fingering, pussy smacking, Unprotected sex/ he finishes inside ( pls don't do this lol) making out, Namjoon is so sweet but ofc he is! Readers a creamer, Missionary, slight yearning. MDNI

___________________

“Before you even ask me , I came ‘cause I knew you’d show up…”

“This isn’t even your scene, what if someone sees you?” You ask, searching the area. You would hate to be at the scene of what you know for sure would make the headlines, Although the 6ft of sin standing in front of you doesn’t seem to care.

Namjoon would be anything you needed. He decided that the moment you entered his life. You affected him. You always have. The first girl who understood him- not just intellectually, but emotionally. It’s always been you. Even if his career made it difficult, he would always choose you. Even right now standing in the middle of the club -where he knew it could get him in to some heavy shit, but none of that mattered. His heart didn’t agree with the opinions clouding his brain about staying away from you. You’re beautiful inside and out, it doesn’t matter how much you attempt to make him uninterested, all the attempts of staying away from you , horrible attempts from you where you tried to be selfless - he on the other hand wouldn’t stop trying. He’s never been a quitter, so why be different today?

“You really shouldn’t be here Joonie.” You say as you pull him somewhere into a dark corner.

The club is not a place Namjoon would decide to spend his time on a Thursday night. Neither would you, you’re only here with your friends-who you abandoned, because you needed an escape. Something to get you to stop thinking about him. Of course, he would be here though. It’s as if the universe pulled you together, no matter how far you tried to run away.

Namjoon can’t take his eyes off of you. He heard you loud and clear but all he’s thinking about is the nickname at the end of your statement. It always sounds so sweet when you say it. Everything you do drives him mad. He didn’t have a choice. It’s been this way from the moment you looked at him. He remembers the day vividly- but it isn’t the time to reminisce. He’s focused on now.

“You missed everything I said…I’m here because of you. I don’t care if I should be or not. I don’t care if it’s not my usual place to kick it at either. I’m here for you.” He reiterates.

He knows you understand. You’re just doing the thing you always do- putting up a wall.

“How long are you in town for?” You sigh. You can’t even believe you’re debating doing this. If only you didn’t want him just as bad.

“Tomorrow afternoon.” He’s searching your eyes. He needs you.

“This isn’t a good idea and you know that…” you roll your bottom lip through your teeth and shake your head before making eye contact with him.

He tilts his head, mimicking the same facial expression you’ve just given him.

“Fuck it. I don’t care. You can leave me after…I can’t stop thinking about you.” He’s pleading at this point but he’s never been too proud to do that either- not when it comes to you.

“Please.” He mutters looking at you. You’re screwed. You were the moment he walked in. You knew that too.

“Fuck it. Take me to your place.” You say. You’ve never been good at pushing him away. Every attempt is always a failure.

Namjoon wastes no time. The quicker he can get you alone, the quicker you can be skin-to-skin. Molded together and intertwined. He sticks his hand out for you to place yours in, and leads you out of the club.

The ride to his place is filled with no words, but tons of sexual tension. You wish you could convince him to stay with you- long term. You have always told yourself to be selfless, let him chase his dreams, and support him as best as you can, so you won’t interfere. You can’t deny it though. Namjoon has always been everything you want in a man. Smart, determined, well-mannered, good in bed, He’s your earth in every sense of the word.

Even now, your enamored as you watch his jaw clench as he parks the car. You reach to undo your seatbelt but Namjoon stops you.

“Come closer.” He says in a low tone, motioning you with his finger closer to his face.

He’s losing his composure. He really is just like you. Eager for what awaits. You do as he says and lean closer, brushibg your nose against his but right before he can make a move. You giggle and send his heart into a frenzy.

“Look who’s all worked up. When I told you to take me to your place, I meant inside.” You plant a kiss on his nose and then open your door.

“Whatever you want, darling.” He chuckles and you have to refrain from jumping on him at that moment. He knows you like it when he calls you that.

Once you make it to the steps, that’s when the fun starts. Your lips are immediately on each other. Hungry, acting like starved animals. When he finally reaches his door he pulls away. He knows you are antsy by the way you’re attacking his neck sucking on his most sensitive spots. He swears, it’s never taken him this long to open a door, and once he finally hears the lock retract he pushes the door open, spins you around so you’re in front of him, picks you up, making you straddle him. Your hands immediately wrap around his neck as you continue kissing him all over.

“You’re fucking needy.” He says nudging your head up so your lips connect and throwing his keys across the counter. Sliding his shoes off and carrying you to the countertop.

“I am. I missed you.” You say, nothing but truth behind your statement.

honesty- a shared trait between you that he respects so much.

You reach for his belt buckle and start to unfasten it.

You only have until tomorrow, you’re not here to waste a second.

As your hands find a place in his briefs, Namjoon starts to remove your top. He’s trying not to rip it off but he fails- he’s eager and you can’t help but laugh again. flinging your hair behind your shoulders, and covering your chest.

“I missed you too.” He says and smiles at you. Capturing your heart, with his dragon-like eyes and deep dimples.

“The counter was a cute idea but, I think I want you in the bed.” He pulls your hands away from your chest, placing them on his shoulders.

He picks you up again and starts kissing you on the way to his bedroom. your low moans into the kiss aren’t helping him right now. He’s pretty sure he could come through his pants right now. He can’t wait any longer. He needs to taste you, to be in you. He could do this for days, but unfortunately, time is not his friend. So he tosses you onto the bed and removes his shirt. His body is glistening. Chest heaving up and down in anticipation.

“Joonie…” you sound just as desperate. Like you’ve been longing for him.

“Shh baby, I’m right here.” He says as he climbs on top of you. your lips reconnect and he pins your hands above your head.

“Take your time?” You ask and he nods as he starts kissing down your neck. He knows you hate when he marks you, but you also know him. He thinks it’s sexy when he can see the little bruises he leaves on you. Little reminders he etches in your skin before he has to leave. The sad part for you is that they are just like him- disappearing acts.

He slowly but surely makes his way to your bra and slides the straps down your shoulder.

“I missed hearing you say my name.” He says as he fully removes it, leaving open kisses down your body. Getting the response he wished for.

His hands slide up your skirt and he starts to rub you through your panties. You’re aching and he can feel you throbbing against his fingers.

“Joon, please…” you say as you moan, reaching and pushing his hand to apply more pressure.

He takes the hint and slides further down. Looking up at you with his lust filled eyes, kissing your waist, and slowly sliding down your skirt and panties. You’re now fully undressed underneath him. He loves the view. You’ve always been shy so once he sees you attempt to cover your chest for the second time, He restrains your arms again with his right hand.

“You’re the one who asked me to take my time, now look at who’s worked up.” He teases.

You lift up, and try to kiss him but he just smiles some more against your lips. As he parts your legs, he rubs up your thigh and then you feel his hand right where you need him.

He tilts his head as you both look each other in the eyes. Kissing you one last time, parting your lips, and smacking your pussy. Capturing the moan you let out in his mouth.

“Mmmmmmm.” You say as your eyebrows furrow in.

Fuck. Still vulnerable, still responsive. He thinks to himself. He wants to be the only person who can make you feel like this.

He pulls himself away and immediately puts his face where he belongs. He

“Oh fuck.” You gasp at the pleasure as your breath hitches in your throat.

He takes his time eating you out. Like it might be the last time, you both know it never is because you can’t seem to walk away. He enjoys the way you squirm underneath him. The head pushes telling him you need more, the way you moan his name out in repetition. He could never let you go. Not when you show him how good he makes you feel.

“Joon, oh my god…right there.”

He follows the instructions you give. Sliding a finger into you, pumping it in and out as you continue with your whimpers and cries of pleasure. He adds another finger and glides into you, a steady rhythm of penetration and the gentle force from his tongue, sends you over the edge. He laps up your juices that he knows he’s responsible for. You only cum like this for him. You’re his no matter how much time you spend apart.

“Come here…” you say panting.

He climbs back up your legs and kisses you in the mouth. Lightly smacking your clit as he does. You just came but Namjoon knows you have more.

“Joonie …”

“Hmm.”

“Mmm, I wanna cum with you.” You say. Eyes rolling back feeling yourself close yet again since he is still playing with your pussy. You want to be with him like this for longer. Be in his arms for longer. Cum for him anytime he wants you to.

“You sure you’re ready?” He asks and you nod.

“Yes, if you don’t stop I’m gonna cum.” You say finally having the energy to move his hand which earns you a laugh from the man hovering above you.

He removes his pants all the way finally. You were just as desperate as him. Like usual.

You set yourself up on your elbows to take at the sight in front of you.

“You’re bad.” You say biting your lip and looking him up and down.

“Could say the same about you.” He says as he crawls back over to you. He takes his time lining himself up to be inside the walls most familiar to him.

“I can’t stay away from you.” He admits and your heart nearly breaks. You give him a small smile. You know you can’t either.

“Hurry up. I miss-.”

You both moan upon his entrance. He’s looking you right in the eyes as he pumps in and out of you. Watching the way you cream, it feels like every time he removes himself there’s more of you spilling out onto him.

“Damn baby, look at us…” He says and you meet his gaze.

“You can’t look at me like that.” You say in between your moans

“You don’t mind.” He’s right, you don’t. But you should- you’ll miss him again. You don’t need the visual of him looking like this engraved in your mind but, it’s better than the memory you’ll have when he leaves tomorrow you tell yourself.

His deep and slow strokes make you feel so full.

“This is so much better than the club.” You say and you look into his eyes and he can’t help but give you a grin.

He reaches for your left hand and intertwines it with his.

“Yeah?” He asks as you moan out and put your free hand on his bicep that’s caging you in.

“Yeah, I hate the club.” You double down on your statement because it’s true. In more ways than one. You hate the club because it isn’t your scene. You hate the club because it isn’t going to help you forget Namjoon, it’ll bring you to him for whatever reason. The universe always puts him in your orbit.

Your pussy is milking him for everything he has, creaming all over him, If he wouldn’t have showed up- he doesn’t even want to think about that. A day without being inside of you always feels like years have passed by. Months feel like centuries.

“Fuck Joonie… just like that.” You moan out and he can’t stop himself from pecking your lips afterwards.

“You are my brightest star. Did you know that?” He says as he listens to your moans. They’re so soft, so alluring.

“I- I’m close.” You manage to muster up and he nods.

“I know baby, I can tell by the way you’re squeezing me. Shit” He isn’t too far off either.

“You’re gonna cum with me, right baby?” You ask and he nods.

He hurries and presses his lips to yours, thrust getting sloppy and lazy.

Your breath gets caught In your throat as you feel the knot deep in your stomach unravel.

“Shit, shit, shit.” He chants out as he empties himself inside of you.

He collapses onto your chest and you stroke his hair. Then the air gets heavy. You can feel it- time is going to run out.

“That was amazing, as always.” You say and he slowly pulls out of you and lays flat on his back. Eyes facing the ceiling before he glances over and looks at you.

“Be my girlfriend? No more of this not knowing how long it’ll take to see each other bullshit. I want you. I’d ask you more romantically but I just … I don’t want you to walk out of the door and me not know what’s next. I want to come home to you. I don’t care about anything else.” He’s serious and it’s everything you wanted to hear, but you’re quiet.

You’re scared. That must be the reason for your silence he assumes.

“You want me? You’re not worried about the public?”

He was right. You are scared. So he grabs your hand and kisses it softly.

“I’ll protect you from anyone, anything. No. I’m not worried, because I need you and I don’t care

who likes it or not.” He says as he reaches for your hand and kisses the back of it.

“Well then I’m Namjoon’s girlfriend then.” You say

Smiling but you’re not done yet

“Promise me you’ll still be the same person you are. I can’t handle anything else.”

He chuckles and pulls you into him.

“People change baby we need to grow but my love won’t unless it’s for the better.” He states matter of factly.

“Love?” You ask as you search his eyes.

“Love.” He says and you nod.

A kiss sealing the deal. Passionate, Fiery, but also just as soft as flower petals- just like the man who is now yours to claim.

“Mmm, princess can I tell you something?” He says as he pulls away.

“Anything.”

“I think love the club.” He says chuckling and you can’t help but laugh.

“It brought me the best sex of my life and my dream boyfriend, I might suddenly love the club too.” You say as you cup his face.

“Love?” He ask in the same tone as you did previously.

“Love,” you say stealing a kiss and sealing the deal.

A/n : let’s be fr. I love a happy ending lol

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lurkingshan · 3 months

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10 Things I Love About Triage

I am extraordinarily late to this party but I am here to scream about Triage, a show which I started on a whim after a stray comment from @incandescentflower and subsequently finished in two sittings. This drama has been on my list forever (I didn't watch it live because the distribution was wacky) and then it just kept getting overlooked as I fought to keep up with the deluge of Thai BL coming at us at all times. But I am very glad I finally hunted it down and made the time and I would like to tell you why!

Hello Again, Dr. Sammon

I am on record as a Sammon fan. She is one of the best writers working in Thai BL and she has a knack for mystery and suspense. Her narratives are always really well constructed with tight plotting and smart character work, and Triage is no exception. This story feels confident, steady, and complete in a way few Thai BLs do.

The time travel rules are blessedly consistent

Part of what makes the story sing is it's a time travel plot that actually gets the particulars right. In a time loop, the details are everything, and this show understands that. The series of events are consistent, the rules of the time travel mechanics are clearly explained, and when our protagonists learn something new, it always lines up with something we'd gotten hints about before or gives us new context for old information. There are no loose threads in this show.

My boy Tin is going through it

Tin is a fantastic protagonist. He starts the show disillusioned with his work and hilariously grumpy about this time loop situation--he is a busy ER doctor and he does not have time for this--but as he starts to piece together how the loop works he gets more methodical in his approach, and eventually becomes emotionally invested in his mission to save Tol. Tin felt really well-calibrated in that he was smart and he tried all the things you would be shouting at the screen for him to try, but he's still a human being with flaws and insecurities and so he makes mistakes, learns, and has to try again. The show really successfully put us in the frustration with him.

Tol makes for an interesting damsel

Because he's kind of an asshole! Tol is rude and disrespectful when he first meets Tin, he hangs around with some truly awful bullies, he treats Rit like garbage, and he's all around an arrogant dick. Until he isn't. I like the choice to make the focus of our mission such a difficult character, not only because it makes Tin's challenge that much harder, but also because it invites us to consider the reasons why someone might be behaving the way he is and whether they can be redeemed.

This show has everything: action, romance, and agony

It's truly an emotional rollercoaster all the way through, and you can't relax for a moment. The pacing is relentless through most of the show, and even as a bond develops between Tin and Tol and they begin a tentative romance, danger is lurking around every corner. As soon as these boys started making out in episode 9 I knew something awful was coming for me and IT SURE DID.

Jinta, the ultimate frenemy

On that note let's talk about Jinta, my nemesis!! Jinta is some kind of unspecified deity/whimsical god and the one who appears to be responsible for putting Tin and Tol in this loop. Is he trying to help them? Is he trying to torture them? I definitely think it's both! He seems to delight in showing up to taunt Tin as he struggles to figure out how to get through to Tol, and when it's Tol's turn on the merry-go-round he sends him to the darkest timeline for his high stakes final attempt to save Tin just because he can. I love/hate you, sir!

Sing and Gap and the darkest timeline

Speaking of which, can we talk about how appropriate it is that Sing and Gap are a couple only in the darkest timeline? I don't know if people were shipping this for real during the live watch, but I definitely was not and so I started cackling when we got to the worst possible timeline and Sing was suddenly calling Gap his boyfriend. Sammon, you are hilarious and I salute you.

Fantastic side characters

Let's talk about the sides I did love. First of all, aside from his weird aggressive flirting/not flirting thing with Gap, I actually did like Sing's friendship with Tin a lot. I also loved the hospital gang who were around to alternately tease and help Tin, most especially Toy and Fang. Toy is a sweetheart and a gossip who never misses a trick, and Fang is an actual badass who first cracked the case with that evil doctor and saved Tin's life. They are fabulous. Rit was also an excellent character with a lot of complexity and he added some much needed depth to the school storyline (does anyone else think he was basically the proto-DFF Non?). And while Mai and Heart were not my favorite people, I did appreciate that the show gave them a sympathetic portrayal instead of making them evil villains (we had the organ harvesters for that).

That beautiful clocktower

I must give a shoutout to this gorgeous clocktower featured in several important scenes. I got so excited every time it showed up. Fun fact: in the first clocktower scene I was like oh hey I recognize that from gifs, but it can't be that scene because it's too early for a kis--TIN WHAT ARE YOU DOING! (I was right, it was too early for a kiss and Tol was Big Mad but bless you for going for it anyway, Tin).

The romance is balanced and rootable

And on that note, let me give a shoutout to the romance part of this story for actually feeling balanced. This is not an epic swoony love affair, but more a story of two people putting in the time to understand and empathize with each other. Sometimes in these kind of time loop stories the romance can end up feeling very one-sided because one character is holding all the knowledge and all the cards. But in this show we have the neat trick of Tol taking over the loop to try to save Tin in the final arc, which means he got to go through a similar process of getting to know the darkest version of his lover and figuring out how to get through to him. I was delighted by all the events of the long loop playing out again, but this time with Tin being the obstinate one. Tol got a taste of his own medicine and it left me feeling like they were both equally invested in this relationship.

TL;DR: If you haven't watched this yet, you really should! It's a fast binge and a great time with some Thai BL favorites. It's unfortunately still not available for international streaming, but it's very easy to find grey now and it's worth the effort. Go forth!

#triage #triage the series #thai bl #shan recommends #10 things #shan shouts into the void

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sadseungmin · 2 months

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Hiiiiiii can you write something about reader trying to breakup with phsycotic/yandere Chan 🥺 Only if you can babes❤️

♡ breaking up with a psychotic bang chan ♡

psychotic bang chan x afab reader | dead dove | nsfw (MDNI)

p.s. i hope this is to your liking, anon!

⚠︎ tw: non-consensual elements (i.e. forced breeding), physical violence, threats of murder

✧･ﾟ: psychotic!chan will emotionally manipulate you *✧･ﾟ:*

Chan resorts to intense emotional manipulation, exploiting your insecurities and fears to make you feel guilty and unworthy. He convinces you that no one else could ever love you as he does and that leaving him would be the worst mistake of your life. He recounts every positive moment you two have shared and proclaims these moments cannot be recreated with another. Essentially, you are manipulated into questioning whether ending things with him is the right choice.

"Baby, you're not making sense. After everything we've been through, after all the time I've poured into loving you despite your flaws, why would you want to give up on us—on me? Who else is going to take the time to learn how to love you unconditionally?"

✧･ﾟ: psychotic!chan will physically abuse you *✧･ﾟ:*

Chan uses physical violence to assert his control over you and instill fear. He yanks you close by the hair, roughly wrapping your locks around his fist so tightly that your scalp pulsates for hours afterwards. He also enjoys choking you until you almost pass out, slamming you into walls with a grip around your throat that leave behinds finger-tip shaped bruises. Whenever you're helplessly within his grasp like this, Chan leans in incredibly close and makes it clear with a cold, stern expression that he won't tolerate any of your attempts to leave. The violence is terrifying, but Chan deems it necessary to keep from losing you.

"I'm trying to be patient with you, baby, because I love you to fucking pieces, but you're being so damn difficult. Every time you try to leave me, it brings me closer and closer to snuffing your life out, because if I can't have you in this life, I damn sure will in the next. Don't make me go there, baby. No more talk of leaving, yeah?"

✧･ﾟ: psychotic!chan will forcibly breed you *✧･ﾟ:*

Chan is desperate to bind you to him for the rest of your lives. He believes that having a child together will ensure you can never leave him. He sabotages your birth control by replacing your contraceptive medication with disguised sleeping pills. Several times a week, you wake up to Chan thrusting wildly inside of you, whispering potential baby names with each forceful, animalistic thrust. And when he paints the inside of your womb white, he whispers to you how pretty you'll be as a mother and how excited he is to watch your tummy grow from his seed. All you can do is lay there, feeling full and hot inside, tears beading in the corner of your eyes as you realize you don't remember the last time you had a period.

"Oh, shi—Gonna fuck a daycare into you, y/n! Gonna keep you plump and round and full. You'll make such a perfect mommy, baby! You'd never abandon me then, right? How could you when we'd have Tzu...Yeong...Byeol...Eun...Iseul...Wonsi—"

#bang chan #skz bang chan #bang chan x reader #skz bang chan x reader #bang chan imagines #bang chan headcanons #skz x reader #skz headcanons #skz imagines #yandere skz #yandere bang chan #yandere!bang chan #yandere!skz x reader #skz #dead dove do not eat #anon request #sadseungmin

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frownyalfred · 3 months

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Super random question, but im interested in your thoughts, do you think in an alternative universe in which Alfred is a woman, would that change something? Like personality wise, or just in general?

Personally, I think it would but like, the change that first comes to mind, would be Bruce's thoughts growing up, in the sense Bruce doesn't want to "replace" his father with Alfred , and Alfred is afraid of the same, and changing that to Martha instead of Thomas is interesting to me ?

Do you have any thoughts???

This is a really interesting question. I think, because Alfred is male, he actually gets away with being more of an ambiguous father figure than a woman would. Because fathers are allowed to be distant, or emotionally pulled back, and still seen as fathers. But women who are those things are immediately seen as non-nuturing, as mothers who actively choose not to parent, etc.

So in this world, Alfred is both Bruce's father, and his employee. He walks that line frequently. In fact, they both tiptoe around it -- sometimes they hug, and sometimes Alfred distantly provides counsel. He somehow never manages to fully eclipse Thomas' role, which obviously would be difficult for Bruce to see. But he also plays a role that, arguably, Thomas could have played as well -- a distant, but loving parent.

In a world where Alfred is a woman, him choosing not to parent Bruce in any way and to remain just as an employee would be seen as an actively cold or withholding choice. And yet, if he did choose to be loving and nurturing, (female) Alfred would immediately be accused of trying to replace Martha. If not by Bruce, then certainly by others.

So, unlike the male Alfred, female Alfred loses both ways, whereas male Alfred kind of wins either way. Because a loving male Alfred surmounts the expectations we have as a society for male fathers of that social class, and a distant one still reaps the benefits of parenting Bruce without taking responsibility for "replacing" Thomas.

Not sure if this makes much sense since I've been sick, but hope that helps answer your question a little.

#asks #anon #thomas wayne #alfred pennyworth #martha wayne #bruce wayne #batman #dc #dc comics

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batmanisagatewaydrug · 3 months

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hi, i'm fourteen and i have this friend who asked me if i wanted to try eating her out. not a girlfriend, a friend. i don't have any feelings for her but i do think she's gorgeous and she's probably the best friend i have and the most mature 14 year old i know. i trust her a lot. im definitely not opposed to trying to give her head, either. i'm just worried it might be a bad idea, and i'm anxious that i won't do it right and she won't even feel good. i definitely don't want to have sex this early but does giving someone else head even count as real sex? she wouldn't really be touching me at all, except for she did say she'd want us to make out before i did it, though i'm not entirely sure why, but i am okay with it. i'm also worried about, like, STDs, because i've never been with another person like... sexually, i've kissed other people but i haven't in a while. but i think she might have done stuff with people? i don't know how recently. like... i don't know, do you think this is a really bad idea and we're too young or is this fine? how do you even eat someone out, like, what do you do? sorry if this is annoying i just really need an adult to ask about this and it's not like i can ask my parents since i'm not really supposed to do this.

hi anon,

thank you for asking! I'm really grateful to be an adult that you trust enough to talk with about stuff like this. it's not annoying, and I'll do the best I can to give a helpful answer based on everything you've told me.

I think maybe, in your case, this might not be a great idea right now. it sounds like there's a lot about this situation that makes you nervous in a way that's not fun - the kind of nerves that come from being excited to connect with a new person are one thing, but I'm hearing much more anxiety than excitement in the way you're talking about this.

oral sex (using your mouth) definitely counts as real sex - it's definitely not just putting a penis in a vagina! - and can be just as intimate and emotionally complicated as any other kind of sexual expression. you said you don't want to be having sex at your age - which is totally normal, and completely your choice to make! - and that includes oral sex as well, so maybe it's best if you sit this one out for the time being.

I want to be super clear that I'm not saying this out of any sense that no people your age should be sexual; I think wanted sexual exploration between young teens can be a great way to start exploring sexuality and finding what feels good! but that doesn't mean that every teenager has to be having sex, or that they're immature if they don't. people are ready to explore sex at lots of different ages (and some people never do at all), and none of them are weird or wrong. you could feel totally different in ten years, one year, a month, or even a week, but right now you don't feel ready, and what you feel right now is what's most important.

holding off until you've had time to learn more about sex may also help, because every situation is less scary when you feel more prepared. (it's why they make you spend so many godforsaken hours practicing driving before you can take the test to get your license.) in the spirit of learning, I want to share some resources about some of the things you had questions/concerns about.

this page on Planned Parenthood's website talks about lots of different kinds of sexually transmitted infections (STIs, also frequently called sexually transmitted diseases, or STDs), including how they're spread and how to treat them. I don't want to make STIs sound scary - I recently wrote a whole post about how they really shouldn't be! - but because it is important to know what risks there are if you plan to be sexually active so that you can do your best to minimize those risks, and what to do if someone does catch an STI. an important thing to remember is that, at your age, it might be difficult for you or your friend to get tested for STIs without help from your parents, which may be awkward and unpleasant or totally impossible if you're unable to tell them why you need a test in the first place. that's an important factor in deciding whether or not to have sex!

additionally, here's some info about dental dams, which are basically condoms for oral sex - they're a flat piece of latex, like a condom that got rolled out, that goes between the mouth and the hole.

and to help with your question about how going down even works, I recommend this video by sexologist Dr. Lindsey Doe. you won't be seeing any real genitals in this video, although there is a drawing and some nude Barbies, and you'll probably want to listen with headphones unless you're alone. there are also links to more of Dr. Doe's videos on the topic.

and lastly, for more thinking about this topic, I want to direct you to Scarleteen's answer to help figure out when you're ready to start having sex, which is very good on its own and has links to some other good reading on the topic. Scarleteen is a great resource specifically designed and run to help answer teenagers' questions about sex without judgment, and I recommend them very heavily.

I hope that this has been useful, and helps you feel empowered to make whatever decision is best for you.

#sex edventures 2024

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pedgito · 8 months

Text

MILLER'S GIRL ✎ SERIES MASTERLIST

Chapter Five: Mr. Miller

Chapter Summary: Years later, you find yourself with choices that feel impossible. And of course, Joel Miller is there at the root of them. [5k]

[student/teacher relationship, age gap, no outbreak, power dynamic]

Chapter Warnings: fem!reader, professor!joel miller (formerly), time jump, joel is a successfully published writer, reunions, drinking, semi-public sex in a bathroom, m!oral, unprotected piv, job proposals, ambiguous endings

— AO3 | PLAYLIST | PINTEREST

↝ other fics | requests? | ao3 | update blog | fic rec

Word doesn’t travel, thankfully. It’s handled swiftly, quietly. Mostly be the discrepancies of Joel, who allows himself to take the full responsibility—for you, for him, and definitely not for Tess.

You’re not sure what expels in the office after you leave that night, other than the gradually rising voices of the troubled couple and Joel–he sounds tired, exasperated, done before Tess can get a word in edgewise. But, you don’t linger much longer.

Joel, however, can’t seem to grasp something to anchor him down, feeling himself slip into a quiet rage. Tess forces the ultimatum on him that night. Either he owns up to, tells her everything, or she would make the divorce hell. He knew she was capable of being vindictive, but he never thought it would be aimed at him. And he knew it all boiled down to him never forgiving her own undue and unjust actions. A bitterness that lingered, festered, and now that she had caught him in his own mess, like he had to her, it was too poetic for her to let things go.

Joel resigns a few weeks later, your interaction minimal—he doesn’t even speak directly to you anymore. He feels like he’s being watched, judged, under constant scrutiny. The reality was that no one knew what had transpired, but it felt louder than ever. The rest of the year is quiet and dull, but you manage.

And the months that follow, they’re fine. But, the spark you had for literature then, even if slightly skewed by Joel and his nefarious obsession with you, never really returns.

The divorce comes several months later for Joel—it isn’t quiet. It’s messy, it’s difficult. Despite his willingness to comply with Tess’s conditions over his pseudo-fling with you, she goes back on her word. Eventually though, he cuts his ties and moves on. And it shouldn’t freak him out that he sees your face in his mind every night after nearly a year of knowing you, but it’s the way he’s memorized every detail about you that paints itself in vivid pictures.

Eventually things get easier and you move on, but Joel can’t bring himself to forget.

He leaves a voicemail on the day of your graduation, a couple years passed, and he still knows—he memorized the day and even if it was without intention, he still feels the pull. To explain or apologize. Something.

He can’t explain why he’s so hung up on the moments he shared with you until the words begin to pour out. And you find yourself curled up on your bed the night of graduation, exhausted mentally, emotionally, physically—but then you see his name on your phone and you break.

You press play on the voicemail and place the phone on the bed.

‘I really…don’t know if you’ll even listen to this. I don’t expect you to, but I wanted to apologize. I manipulated a shitty situation to my advantage to forget my own problems. The shit going on within my own marriage. That wasn’t your fault…and you’re young. I shouldn’t have entertained it and I did. I liked the attention. The attention you gave me and it was wrong. If you ever want to…I don’t know, talk things out? I would like that, but I understand if you ignore this completely. I would too. A long, drawn out breath that delves into a sigh. Uh, congratulations on the graduation. I’m sorry this took so long for me to say. Yeah…anyways, goodbye.”

The abrupt ending is bittersweet, rolling your eyes at his tone. It’s clipped, void of emotion. He’s masking and you can hear it. It only pisses you off further, unable to believe the genuineness in his message or tone so no—you don’t give him the chance to talk it out. And Joel Miller fades from your mind from then on, a distant and bitter memory.

Three Years Later

Working at a local publication company in Austin was never the plan, but it was the fastest thing you could grasp after graduation and several failed internships later—and the money was decent. You had an apartment in the city, close to work, and an easier turnaround time when you needed to get something to the office on an emergency or whim.

You were a lower level employee, editing and working around the simpler marketing for author’s that—most of the time, you didn’t even know the name of. You were meant to take the brunt of the work before it was delivered to the actual team of publication for everything that they didn’t want to handle. Which often included lunch as well, daily, coffee orders every morning, and tasks that felt never ending.

But the one time you did receive a break was the publishing parties. Authors would throw a nice party for the team and a long, never-ending list of connections that led for it to be more of a schmoozy get together than anything.

You went for the alcohol, the food, and the entertainment.

Which, thankfully—they all proved to have a ton of.

So, it should be any other Friday when you walk into the bar downtown, filled to the brim with patrons and company people who were there in attendance and support of the author, who you still had yet to meet. You’d been working on the book for months now, getting small snippets of things to correct and proofread when you weren’t running around to fetch things, but sometimes the curiosity is really just too much.

You grab a drink first, sipping on the sweet mix of liquor and syrup as the people filter in and spread, conversing in a low hum that quickly divulges into a cheer as someone makes their way through the door. They’re muffled by the crowd, loud pats of congratulation and claps that aren’t entirely necessary—but everyone had been anticipating the book to be a best-seller in record time. A book of delicate poetry, beautiful and thoughtful. It was something that brought you back to a time long forgotten, sitting in your bed during your freshman year of college, flitting through the recommendations of a professor that had nearly disappeared off the face of the earth.

So, when your eyes land on Joel Miller as he pushes through the crowd, the pit in your stomach grows and swells to an unbearable size.

He’s different in every way but still inexplicably him—he seemed softer, relaxed. His hair was grown out and curling over his ears and down his forehead, curls tickling against his skin and he sported a full beard, more than he ever allowed himself while he worked as your professor the interim year he was there, patchy in places you don’t realize until he comes closer, still unaware of your presence.

You recognize the suit, though—he’s worn it a million times, week after week and it feels too overwhelming now, knowing you both had left things unfinished.

Your intentions then weren’t the same as now and you’re almost positive he could say the same—even if you did keep your vindictive streak to get things you wanted, Joel was the only person who had managed to push you in a way that brought out that side of you.

You turn on your heels as a woman catches his attention, smiling brightly and too touchy to be considered a stranger, your back facing him now. You wave and smile at a few passing co-workers, also giving a small murmur of congratulations to Joel before you feel a hand on your back, half ready with your hand balled into a fist before you hear his voice over your shoulder.

It’s a soft whisper of your name, irreverent fondness in his tone, “How’s the open bar?”

He’s folding a jacket over his arm as he squeezes into the small space between you and another person, palm flattened out against the bar as he awaits your answer.

And for once, you don’t have anything to say.

Your mouth opens once, twice, before quietly snapping shut.

Joel breaks out into a slight smile, “I saw your name on the guest list—I just thought I’d say hi.”

“I didn’t—” You take a shallow breath and press the half-empty glass against the surface, “I don’t usually know anything about who we’re working on publication for, if I had known…I just—”

His hand is a gentle press against your clothed arm, curling around your bicep, “Hey—no harm, no foul. Did you…like my book, at least?”

You chuckle softly, “Uh—yeah, of course. I think that goes without saying. I almost got fired for not providing enough notes when they asked, but I didn’t feel like anything needed to be changed.”

Joel smiles brighter, but his lack of response is palpable.

He nods, pointing at your drink, “Take advantage—seein’ as it’s paid for.”

And you feel the moment fleeing as he turns away for a brief moment and orders his own drink, thankful for the short moment of calm as he didn’t have to constantly talk shop, so your curiosity gets the better of you. You didn’t know when you would ever see him again now that he was standing in front of you—unfinished business and all.

“How are things?” You ask—it’s a vague question that without your past would seem harmless. But, Joel understands. He spots the worry in your brow where it creases subtly in the middle and he chews at his bottom lip, taking the drink that is slipped into his hand.

His ring finger is still bare and he raises the hand up, curled around the glass with eyes that peek over the rim, squinting at your playfully, feigning innocence.

“Good,” He tells you when brings his drink down to his chest, “Uh—some roadblocks trying to get back into writing but…it’s been alright. And Tess, she’s—I don’t really know how she is but we also haven’t spoken in over two years. Last thing I heard was that she was getting engaged.”

Your eyes widen by the sudden influx of information, surprised by how forthright and open Joel was being, “Oh—that’s…good? For her, I guess.��

Joel chuckles softly and raises his eyebrows in response, agreeing with the uncertainty in your statement. You had grown so accustomed to his small quirks and body language that it was coming back to you in waves, like they had never left. But, the booming voice of a few men on the other side of the bar grab Joel’s attention and he looks slightly disturbed of his peace but offers a quiet apology before leaving you alone, left to process what the fuck was happening.

For someone you haven’t seen in a few years, it shouldn’t make you feel so at ease in their presence and you hate the way it lingers and aches the moment he leaves. The same push and pull that you felt so long ago, it’s overwhelming.

You finish your drink quietly, watching the warm, orange sky morph into nightfall and you attempt to slink out quietly, having had your fill on alcohol and surprises for the night. And the activity in the bar had only ramped up more in the lingering time—but the fingers around your wrist stop you, stretching through the crowd as you spin slowly on your heels.

“Follow me?” Joel asks lowly in the space between you when you turn to him, difficult to hear under the roar of the crowd but he nudges his head in a far off direction and you nod, feet moving before your brain can process.

Joel yanks you gently into a small, unisex bathroom with a stall in the corner. It’s big enough that you can rest against an opposite wall while he presses up against the door, looking slightly flushed from the alcohol but calm—it’s strange seeing him now, outside of the setting of his work.

Also, time had passed and he’s grown and processed things in the interim.

“I didn’t get a chance to ask about you,” He begins—Joel had only wanted a quiet place to talk to you, bothered by the idea of you the entire night for more than a few reasons, but most importantly, he just needed to know, “how…things have really been?”

“I graduated, but I’m sure you know that,” You tell him, his gaze trailing down as he remembers the half-assed message and apology he left you, “got a job after way too many attempts and failing and I’m living in an apartment here in Austin, it’s a few blocks away from the publishing company. It’s not bad—I thought things would be easier. But… I can’t complain. I mean, I could—there’s really no point, though.”

Joel’s nostrils flair in amusement as his chest vibrates with a laugh, hands tucked behind him as he leaned against the surface, suit jacket having disappeared…somewhere. Now, it was the tight pull of his chest under his shirt, the gaps in his buttons covered by the long stretch of his tie.

You cross your arms gently, one leg hooking over the other as you lean the weight of your shoulder into the wall similarly, the cold breeze of the unheated bathroom brushing against your thighs and you were silently cursing yourself for wearing such a short skirt in the biting cold weather at the end of fall, rolling into winter with a force.

“I can see that hasn’t changed.” Joel comments slyly and you squint your eyes in his direction, wondering his angle. Truthfully, he didn’t have one.

You roll your eyes momentarily, biting away the smile that creeps onto your face as you look away briefly, distracted by the buzzing, overly luminescent light above your head. The tension between you two had never left, that much was apparent.

“So, how has single life been?” You ask, feeling silly at the way you word it, but given his openness to tease you so easily, you felt the need to do it back.

Joel begins with a subtle warning of your name that has you huffing out a laugh of indifference.

“What?” You say in playful defense, “It’s just a question. You don’t have to answer it.”

Joel shakes his head fondly, though the bitter memories begin to flood back.

“I’m not your student anymore,” You point out, “it’s not like you’re breaking any rules by talking to me. It’s been…years, Joel. I think we’re both different people by now.”

Were you? That was entirely debatable.

“It’s been fine.” Joel gives you as little detail as possible, which is a telltale sign that he was masking, but you can’t ignore the way his eyes drag over your figure even if for a brief second.

You nod in response, not pushing the topic any longer.

“So, what’s this about?”

Joel makes a small noise in question and you tilt your head accusingly, lips pursed into a sneaky smile.

“I was on my way out,” You tell him, “now I’m here—with you. So, what’s the deal?”

“I wanted to catch up,” Joel admits–though it’s mostly a lie, “is that a crime?”

“Mmm, but here’s the problem,” You counter him, “you’re not really doing much talking. You ask some lame, basic question to cover up whatever excuse you had to get me in here. Seriously, Joel—what’s up?”

Joel sighs, chin touching his chest as he stares at the floor, “Still so goddamn stubborn.”

It’s like a trigger, soles patting against the ground as you approach him. His gaze pulls up slowly, first at your feet, then your chest, until he lands on your face. Delicate fingers press against his chest, his arms falling to his side as you press in closer and trace your fingers upwards, brush against his jawline.

You grin at the way Joel swallows tensley under your gaze, opposite hand wrapping into the length of his tie and pulling him into you, pressing your lips against his without another thought.

This kiss was new, different. Like pressing lips against a stranger with a renewed interest, not entwined in the throes of his divorce and a shitty marriage that kept him tied down and riddled with guilt, he kisses back with a force, boring conversation long forgotten.

Deft fingers turn the lock silently, a faint click of recognition as Joel leads you toward the empty stall with roaming hands, coat brushed down your shoulders and draped over a nearby hand dryer as he huddles you into the small space and watches as you pull away briefly to lock it with a giddy smile, lip pulled between your teeth as the lock slips into place and he stares at you openly, an unhinged hunger behind his eyes that he attempted to keep it bay so long ago.

“I have an idea.” Your voice is creeping suspicion in Joel’s mind and he sees your smile soften, an undertone in the wait as your fingers stretch along the expanse of his neck, leaning into him fully as he presses against the opposite wall of the stall, faces only a few millimeters apart as you breathe into him, noses brushing gently.

“That sounds like trouble.” Joel admits, your eyes dilating under his gaze as your excitement reaches your eyes, skin wrinkling slightly at the corners as you laugh.

“I don’t know,” You reply airily, “I think you’ll like this one.”

Joel’s game, eyebrows raised in question as you descend slowly—for anyone else, offering up a blowjob on the floor of a shoddy, questionable bathroom, you’d immediately decline and foremost, wouldn’t even offer. But, this was Joel.

The Joel that, despite years of time between his company, still culminated at the forefront of your mind all of the sudden. Fleeting memories, things that threatened to remind you of him, a bitter afterthought. But now, it was sweet—tangible and finally within reach. You were seizing the opportunity to close things out, even if you knew you would never see him again.

And damn his months of unintentional abstinence, Joel is unbuckling his belt and unfastening his pants at an embarrassing speed with the assistance of your eager hands, instantly cradling your head as you wrestle with the few layers of fabric before his cock is heavy in your hands and hardening with even the minimalist of touch, his mouth hung open slightly as your tongue press flat against the underside of his cock, tracing along the jut of a vein that leads to his head, circling as you pull taut at his shaft and reacting openly to the tight squeeze he gives to your jaw, eyes falling shut with a gasp as he urges with silence for you to put him out of his misery and take his cock into your mouth.

Enough teasing. He knew you were both far beyond that.

There’s a lightness to your movements, inhibitions slightly skewed. You suck at his cock greedily, hollowing out your cheeks and allowing your hand to cover the length of his shaft that your mouth can’t reach and the hand that isn’t cradling your face is pressed against the stall door for leverage. There’s a crease in his forehead from how hard he’s scrunching his face up, willing himself to focus albeit how overwhelming you are in the moment and then you’re speaking to him, needy and soft.

“Look at me Joel,” You plead, tip brushing against your lips as you kiss the head and take him once more, bobbing your head slowly as he opens his eyes, and that familiar heat sets in his gaze, “there’s nothing to worry about this time—it’s just us.”

His hand is a soothing touch against your jaw, slowly trailing until his palm is cradling your head, “That’s—hm, that’s the problem. Don’t have much time.” Oh, right. This was his party after all.

“Riiiight,” You reply snarkily when you pull, feeling the gentle squeeze of his fingers against your neck as his hand settles there and rests, “guest of honor and all that, I suppose.”

Joel wasn’t letting you go that easy, though. He pushes you away gently and helps you rise to your feet, a slow progress of crowding you against the corner adjoining the stall door and the wall and his fingers slip under your skirt, digging into the supple skin of your thighs and he breathes, takes in your scent as he buries his face into your neck and he groans, so soft you almost don’t hear it. Almost.

“You still like fucking college girls? Or was that a one time thing?” You tease, earning another less than gentle squeeze before his hand is traveling down your center and over the wet fabric of your panties, covered with your slick and you moan out—guilty, and he settles with pulling them to the side for quick access, dipping a finger inside of you and chuckling at how familiar it feels, walls squeezing around the digit and you huff, “Dirty old man, Mr. Miller.”

“Just one. Annoying little brat that she is.” Joel admits, his stiff cock prodding at your thigh as he slips another finger inside of you, your grip tightening against the fabric stretched over his shoulders, head banging deftly against the surface behind you as you moan, “And just so we’re clear—don’t ever fucking call me that again.”

It never really fit him anyways.

“Got it.” You reply softly, staring at him half-lidded as his thumb brushes over your clit and he’s so close—right fucking there, dick pressed against your thigh but he won’t cross that line, not unless you ask. Luckily, you’re selfish even under a time crunch, “Joel—need it.”

“Need what, baby?” His breath is hot against your ear as he mouths at your skin sloppily, fingers leaving you empty as they rub collectively over your sensitive clit, “Such a beautiful way with words, let me hear you say it.”

“Fuck—” You breath rough, a sharp breath, “your cock, Joel. Want you inside of me.”

Fortunately, Joel’s never been more impatient as he pulls your thigh up and over his hip, his fingers holding the fabric of your panties to the side as he presses inside of you steadily, selfishly watching your reaction as he splits you open—a stark difference from the first time. He was disconnected, emotionless, trying to prove a point. But, this was so much more.

It was everything he couldn’t say before.

“Stop—stop that,” You laugh softly, fingers gripping over the edge of the stall as he Joel fucks into you with sharp, precise thrusts. He was searching, determined that no time was wasted, but still admiring the catch of a gasp or moan in your throat every time he hit a particular spot inside of you that rendered you nearly speechless, “stop looking—at me like that.”

And Joel has the gull to smirk, lip pulling between his teeth as he angles you back and hikes your thigh up a fraction and that—oh, that was perfect and your grip slips and falls to his chest, wrinkling the fabric under your tight grasp as he leans in, lips pressed unmoving against your own as he thrusts into you wildly, the deafening sound of skin against skin and noises breathed into each other’s mouths.

“Touch yourself, baby,” He pleads and you thought the first time was a one off, a slip of the tongue in such a heated moment but it rings in your ears and warms your body with a faint buzz of adoration and allowed yourself to feel special and reserved only to him for that moment, “come with me?”

You reply with a shaky nod, feeling his hand guide yours between your bodies and settle over your cunt, rubbing over your clit in quick and determined circles as he spoke soft praises against your skin.

Good girl, sweet thing, look so pretty like this while you’re taking my cock.

And you’re hit with an immense rush of emotion as you come around him, his thrusts faltering in time with your cunt as you squeeze around him, “Fuck—I’m gonna come, gonna—” He pulls his hips back slightly but you’re reeling him back in with your heel, offering a small head shake.

Inside, you plead wordlessly.

It does him in—hand grazing over your breasts, tongue dipping into your mouth as he squeezes at the flesh and snaps his hips one last time, coming inside of you with a long, drawn out groan that precedes a long moment of silence as you both come down in synchronized breaths.

Joel hasn’t moved either, cock still buried inside of you but slowly softening.

“Work for me,” He says suddenly, head resting against the wall as he looks at you, covered in a thin sheen of sweat, his fingers massaging the sore muscles in your thigh, “please?”

Your brow furrows tiredly, “What?”

“Come and work for me,” He asks once more, “I can offer you a job.”

“Joel, that’s—”

You whine softly at the loss of him as he slips out of you, but silently thankful for your achy muscles—and you think Joel will leave it at that, but he’s taking your face between his hands, urging you to look at him, “Look at me and tell me you’re happy there.”

You swallow a lump in your throat and look back at him, the words perched on your tongue.

You couldn’t lie to him. Not about this.

“I saw your name weeks ago—” Joel removes his hands and redresses slowly, watching as you adjust yourself to a more presentable manner, despite the feeling of his cum dampening your panties even more than they were before, “thought I was fuckin’ hallucinating.”

Still, you’re not sure where it’s coming from. Three years of silence and now this, his cum dripping down your legs and a proposition that sounds far too good to be true.

“I need an assistant,” He admits, “Someone to help me keep track of all this shit. Everyone I’ve hired, it just doesn’t stick.

You unlock the door behind your back and file out, watching Joel stuff his shirt back into his pants with a little too much force, shifting from heel to heel as he walks, “So, you’re desperate? And you thought fucking me would help your chances?”

You’re teasing him, but he doesn’t need to know that.

Immediately, his head snaps up, eyes full of concern that you misconstrued his intentions and he knows he’s fucked up again—again. He fucks up everything.

“I’m fucking with you.” You crack a gentle smile and his hammering heart slows.

“I need someone who won’t bullshit me about my writing,” Joel tells you, “real—honest feedback. Someone that knows me.”

Your hands fall behind your back, fingers interlocking as you step toward him again, playfully kicking your foot out at him, “So, the whole blind worship thing, kissing ass—it’s not for you? Because…that can be arranged too, I don’t mind.”

He says your name in warning and you pull back with a soft laugh, “I can give you a bigger picture tomorrow, after…all this. We can work things out. You can sign an official contract. I’m not trying to play you on this.”

And maybe history was repeating itself, something Joel refused to acknowledge.

“Isn’t that what got us into this mess?” You ask, allowing Joel to adjust the flap of your jacket over your chest as you slip it back onto your body, “Teacher…student…boss…”

You don’t have to fill in the rest. Joel’s pointer finger trails up the center of your chest, nudging at your chin and pulling your attention in, lips parted slightly.

“I can keep things professional,” Joel lies, “can you?”

You mouth a silent no as you shake your head and his thumb brushes your bottom lip.

“Well, I guess I’ll just have to write a few stipulations into the agreement.”

“I never said I agreed,” You retorted playfully, “did I?”

“Suppose I’ve got a bit of convincing to do then,” Joel smirks, “—is your number still the same?”

You shrug innocently—of course it was and truthfully, Joel never had the thought to delete it. Letting it gather dust in his contacts, finger hovering over it from time to time. Wondering.

“You still have my email,” Joel laughs at that, barely, cracking a gentle smile, “send me the details—I’ll let you know if I’m interested.”

“And if there’s any way I can sweeten that interest—”

You lean in mockingly, eyes looking over his facial expression, clearly amused with himself as your nose brushes against each other and you speak into the quiet space between you both.

“Keep it in your pants, alright? I’ll consider it.”

Joel couldn’t let you slip through his fingers, not again.

But, you knew you were doomed from the moment he set eyes on you.

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #professor!joel miller #miller's girl #my writing

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shini--chan · 14 days

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Yandere Character Sheet II - 1p England / Arthur Kirkland

My depiction of Arthur here is harsh. I'll freely admit that it is due to a bias I have against the British due growing up in one of the Empire's late colonies and family history. Blazes, some of my relatives refuse to speak English because they regard it as "the language of the Antichrist".

Trigger warnings: colonialism, controlling behaviour, manipulation, mental break, trauma, physical torture, emotional/verbal abuse, victim blaming

Blend in - Are the red flags obvious? Are they even aware that their behaviour is wrong? Do they even care?

Arthur is generally a cantankerous, cynical and proud man, so it would be more difficult to tell which of his actions are relationship red flags as opposed to personality red flags. Of course, this is also a gross oversimplification of the situation since he is complicated. When he wants to be, he can be genuinely kind, polite and caring. It is simply that the closer you are to him emotionally, the higher his expectations are of you. With you being the apple of his eye, you'd have the honour of finding out that being the subject of his affections is worse than having to bear his apathy or even ire.

One of the reasons for this is that he'd have a fixed ideal of what constitutes as good and proper, and he would require you to conform to that image. Depending on your character and disposition, this could be painful for you. But surely you'll embrace your cruel fate, for isn't love the sweetest form of suffering. Pragmatic and cynical as he would be and would claim to be, Arthur would still be a romantic at heart. To him, meeting you would be fate, and you would do well to likewise recognise that your fate lies with him. Generally he wouldn't accept any words or actions that would go against this perceived destiny - he wouldn't take them seriously.

Overall, he would see you as lesser than him, and therefore not as deserving of respect and regard. Much of the politeness and charm he would display to you wouldn't stem from seeing you as an equal or from thinking highly of your thoughts and emotions, but rather from the sort of charity given to the invalid and the naive.

This flows nicely into the next red flag, in that he can be unbelievably paternalistic and conceited. You acting out, trying to defend your boundaries, or even just not fitting into what he deems appropriate would be deemed as you being unreasonable or having a phase. All in all, it would be very difficult to criticise him since he would first have to view you as a person worth listening to, and that wouldn't be a given. Even if your relationship has reached that level of respect, he would be quick to deliver some sharp retorts. Also, he would simply not care that some of the things he does are reprehensible. Either the end would justify the means, or the other people are inferior and conventional morals can't be applied to them.

Additionally, he would be prone to making decisions for you, without your input. Mind you, he would allow you to place your orders by yourself when you go out to wine and dine. Though, he would decide what you wear, when you go to sleep, what you eat and drink at home, and the media you consume. This would start way before he would manage to fully isolate/kidnap you. Arthur regards himself as more apt when it comes to making choices about your life than you are.

Related to that above, he would manage to make you go along with all that (at least in the beginning) by acclimating you to his controlling nature. He wouldn't dominate your life all at once and the more he'd enter your life, the more he'd determine how you'd live your own life. He'd demand that you tell him of all your movements and errands, make you let him look through your letters and bills and have you give him the passwords to all your accounts. On top of that, he would micromanage you at times.

Another warning sign would be how unpredictable he would be. When it comes to social interactions, what happens is very dependent on Arthur's. He is far from emotionless, and is very passionate indeed. However, he isn't one to wear his heart on his sleeve or display his emotions openly, which would make it difficult to assess the situation at times. A bad time on the way home from work can decide if you receive affection or are pushed away with sharp remarks. Additionally, it would be the little things that would set him off the most, while he would remain stoic and calm in the face of large calamities.

Compatriot - Who aids them? Who condemns them? Are there ways you can convince their friends/colleges/underlings to help you?

Part of Arthur's magic is convincing others of his superiority. There would be many that would aid him simply because they'd falsely believe he is all-powerful and that moving against him is futile. These sorts would be the worst - you'd have their sympathy and pity and they would likely believe you fully if you'd recount the lived horror and they'd still resolutely refuse to help you. On the contrary, they would even encourage you to give in to him, to simply weather the storm instead of fighting against it. These people would also be the hardest to persuade and the fastest to betray you, since they would fully buy into the illusion of Arthur's invulnerability and seek to gain small favours from their "Lord and Saviour".

Then there would be those that would be on his side because they'd agree with his world views and morality. Best not to bank on their support, because Arthur would always be grander in their minds than you. Unless … there is nothing more feverant than a disillusioned devotee, eh? There, you could get their support, you would just have to teach them successfully that their angel is a demon.

Naturally, England would also have many enemies. So some of them, all that would matter would be to land a blow on Arthur, so they would have no qualms or second thoughts of helping you. They might even "be on your side" before you'd catch on to Kirkland's true colours. Perhaps they would even be the ones to shine light on his less appealing traits. One thing that you should keep in mind though, that they wouldn't care about what would happen to you, as long as they could hurt Arthur.

Aside from the obvious category of people that hate Arthur and who would also be sympathetic to your cause, there would also be the normal people that just want to go about their day-to-day lives. Those that might work for Arthur; they might trip you up if they like him, they might ignore your forged documents and stolen money if they hate him. Generally, many people downplay the power and the influence of the ordinary, working man. Arthur would be no exception to this rule, and could use this against him.

Dominion - What actions are especially pleasing to them?

Above all else - you defer to him. He wants to be your guiding light in the darkness. He is supposed to be your teacher and protector and provider, and he wouldn't settle for anything less. For you to recognise and accept your role in the dynamic between the two of you would be a boon. It would be a relief that he wouldn't have to chastise and punish you like a wayward child. It would give him a bit of hope.

Interestingly enough, he would still desire for you to be resolute. Silk hiding steel comes to mind and if you're the sort to faint at the slightest sign of trouble, he would deem you a product of bad breeding. You are to be a rose, and your thorns should be sharp. Of course, this shouldn't come at his expense, for he doesn't want somebody that would constantly stand against him. You should be the sort that is a fun conquest, and a steadfast companion that doesn't cause more trouble than you solve. The deep irony here is that he wishes that you aren't a child, all while being continuously paternalistic.

Appeal to his finer sensibilities - have etiquette down pat, be educated in that you know the classics and poetry and the BBC nature documentaries. Be easy on the eye and balm for the soul to him, make him feel respected and allow him to rant about god and the world without always throwing in your two cents. Be attentive to his needs, whether it be a shoulder massage, a bottle of port or tickets for the nearest rugby match. Communication without many words necessary would be prefered. On your side, such a skill would even be needed if you want to survive him.

Tied into that - he would want the little things taken care of by you. Have a meal ready when he comes home, and the bathroom scrubbed and the washing done. Still he would require the dichotomy of a homebody and an adventurer, at least to some extent (and you thought he was going to leave you alone at home). Everywhere though, you'd be expected to put his well being above your own. After all, if he is out cold, then who will take care of you. No matter how strong and capable you are, he will forever regard himself as your superior.

Conform to the values of the time. If there is something that irks Arthur beyond measure, it would be not understanding something. He wouldn't understand you if your mind runs on models of the world he is not familiar with. Of course, if you don't see things his way yet then it is no issue - diamonds commonly need polishing and cutting before they are perfect. It would be a re-edition of the white man's burden.

Flight - What do you have to do in order to escape them?

It would be easier than you'd expect. Arthur's main spiel to make you stay by him would be to make you think that escape is futile, and that he is all-powerful and all-knowing when it comes to you. He would aim at "demonstrating" this by stalking you or also letting you escape only to capture you again. This wouldn't be his only failsafe. Perhaps he'll socially isolate you, so that you believe he is the only person in the world that you can trust, or he'll convince you that you're a horrible person, and he is only doing on to you what you deserve (he might even believe the latter himself). So what you have to do, is break the mental fetters, and then matters already become easier.

Two pathways are recommended: Either do something completely haywire that he wouldn't expect. Send yourself abroad per post, join a travelling circus troupe or become a nun. There are only so many avenues of escape that he can close down, and the most obvious would be the first to go. Or you could elect to hide in plain sight and slip away. Lose him in a shopping mall or in a crowded street. A concert would be even better. Afterwards, it would be advisable to act normal - because he would be looking for a harried person.

And have some tranquillisers/sleeping pills at hand. You'll need them to cope with the fallout.

Hospitality - What is your life like with them? How much does it deviate from your former life?

You'd basically have to adopt an Arthur-approved lifestyle and discard everything that came for. He would dictate the tempo and direction, with you having precious little say in the matter. You'd only have your way if your interests coincide with England's or you plant the ideas in his head and let him think it was his idea in the first place.

You'd become another fixture in his environment and thus everything that is his would become yours as well. The living space would be his and he would share it with you. Whether you like it or not, you would start orienting yourself around his routines and ideas. A side effect of this would be that he would control what you would read, watch and listen to. When locked up and subject to his tender mercies, you would be powerless to obtain any information other than what he allows.

Aside from that, there are too many restrictions and rules to count, and you would only be able to have some comfort once you learn to navigate the minefield. In total, your life would be more akin to life in an old girls boarding school, or even a prison. The food would be just as bland, unless you'd take matters into your own hands.

With him, your opinion would matter very little and his would be everything. Every criticism of your person would have to be acted on immediately, and every wish treated as an order. Of course, he would detest it if you'd simply allow him to walk all over you, but he would equally loath it if you would stubbornly resist it. It would be a balancing act that you would have to learn to master.

In the beginning you might be inclined to point out how his treatment of you would contradict his own morals. Arthur wouldn't care - this is a point that can't be stressed enough. Conventional morals wouldn't apply to you, in his eyes. Besides, you would be his plaything, something with which he can engage in all his base desires and dark urges without any repercussions. Somebody at his station would have to punish him for him to genuinely become better towards you.

There are few holds barred for him when it comes to you, and that makes him all the more dangerous. Should the mood strike him due to your bad behaviour, then he would bring out the thumb screws and the brands and the water torture. He probably wouldn't want to mar you, or at least not too much. You should still be prepared for burns of all sorts and being twisted into various uncomfortable positions and restrained. Here, the menu would be a lengthy one.

Of course, there would be the social aspect. One of the first things Arthur would do would be to chip away at your social circle. This could be either through slander and manipulation, or more criminal methods like framing, drugging and murder. Eitherway, soon he'll be the only one you'll have, and since he is a jealous man, you would either only be able to interact with a carefully curated group of people, or not at all.

Order - What are the rules you have to adhere to?

There are too many rules to count when it comes to Arthur Kirkland. He wouldn't spell out all of them for you anyway, since a lot of them are self-evident in his eyes. Besides, he'd want you to live according to the spirit of the rules, rather than him having to lay out an exact wording only for you to engage in loophole abuse. Regardless, here are some of mentioned rules:

If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say it at all. Mind you, this is only towards him - other people are fair game. Although, you'd have to be smart about it and avoid causing second hand embarrassment. This would be easier said than done when you're in company, since your actions would automatically reflect on Arthur, once a certain point in your relationship has been reached. If you'd curse and chew out the world with him, he would be delighted. If you would turn your insults on him, he would burn with rage at the insolence and the impertinence. How dare you undermine his authority! Verbal sparring would be occasionally welcomed, though you'd have to have the sensitivity to tell when the ice is too thin to stand on.

Behave yourself when we are in mixed company. Even when we are in company in general. To him, you are a pet project, living evidence that he can fashion perfection out of flesh and bone and a willful spirit. Totting you out to other people would come with the expectation that you be a living exhibit of his talents. As such, he wouldn't take it well if you misbehave. Mind you, he wouldn't be above humiliating you in mixed company just to save his own reputation.

Keep up with the etiquette, will you? Belonging to him would mean you'd have to comply with a whole host of rules and rituals and mannerisms. This can vary depending on his social standing and the time period. The main point would be that you wouldn't stick out like a sore thumb. The irony here is that he would desire you to have the skills and aptitude to get along well with your peers all while wanting you all to himself.

Don't make me repeat myself, pet. There are some phrases Arthur would repeat around you over and over again, like an especially devout priest. He would want you to internalise some truths after all. On the flip side, he would loathe to have to repeat himself when he talks with you, or to have to lay out his instructions a second time. Should he be peeved, and then be forced to repeat himself just because you weren't paying attention, then you would have a punishment awaiting you. Above all, don't talk back when he orders or chastises you - he wouldn't hold back with the yelling and the insults and the condensation if you do.

Be honest with me, savvy? I can't smell what you are thinking, after all. For somebody as cunning and devious as Arthur Kirkland, he gets extraordinarily upset when he is given a taste of his own medicine. He would demand you be forthright and honest with him, something that would be very difficult if you don't want to be with him and don't want to anger him at the same time. The reason behind this would be that he would want to trust you, and he wouldn't be able to trust you if he'd have to cut through your lies and half truths and word games. Or if he would only receive your complaints from around five corners, or something of the sort. Asides, if you're the sort to voice your displeasure and be open about your thoughts and feelings (to him, it should be said) then he wouldn't be in for any nasty surprises.

Rehabilitation - How much will they change you? Will they break you? How much therapy would you need in the event that you get rid of them?

Arthur Kirkland is the sort of man that would leave scars. He'd want you to be unable to live without him and he'd strive to condition you to dissolve into hysterics should you be separated from him. In the case he should succeed, you'd be fine for a few days and then descend into such emotional turmoil. This would be because he'd have your behavioural structures tailored to him, and without him to act as your focal point, you would grow anxious. Be careful not to go crawling back to him then - each escape would be more mentally challenging then the one before.

Even when you'd be away from him, his rules would be so ingrained in you that you'd follow them on a subconscious level. You'd find yourself fixing your posture all the time, and weighing each word up against gold before uttering it. Out of reflex you'd discreetly check your surroundings to see where Arthur is and no matter how much you'd police your thoughts, his cynical attitude towards other human beings would have rubbed off on you and infected your mental processes. Arthur would continue to accompany you as the devil on your shoulder, as the voice of your inner critic, as a demon that would haunt your dreams, even if he would no longer be physically present. You'd have to be self-aware and self-conscious to rid yourself of those fetters.

Aside from that, he wouldn't hesitate to break you to achieve his goals. There would be regrets on his behalf, yes. However, he'd never regret breaking you to the point that he would strive to make amends and see the errors of his ways. Instead, he would blame you for being too rebellious, for having such a brittle character that you broke instead of bending to his will, for being of ill stock and bad breeding. Admitting wrongdoing would be akin to weakness for him, something he would never allow himself to display in front of you.

Perhaps you would retain enough sanity and energy even when broken to flee him, perhaps you would develop a secondary or even tertiary personality to deal with the trauma. Either way, a life without Arthur would be even more cumbersome and hard than when you'd have been whole. It would take years until you'd be able to function normally again, and that is only if the best case scenario of you having a stable life without Arthur hunting you, occurs.

Zeal - Do they fall fast or slow? What is their reaction to their own feelings?

Ever the romantic at heart, passion would grip him quickly, yet he would be very slow to act on it. It wouldn't be the first case of limerence on his side, and he would want to be sure of his feelings and their longevity before committing to you. Ironically, the more he'd try to wrestle his emotions into control and bottle them, the more potent and out of control they would become. Finally, they would overwhelm him and he would find himself rationalising the most heinous actions.

The same justifications he would use towards himself would be applied towards other people, maybe even towards you. As time passes, the self-justifications and such would come ever easier, and also more extreme. It would finally reach a point where morality would be flung out the window. Why should he heed boundaries, if there is no punishment for overstepping? Maybe you find some countermeasure within your power that you can exercise to keep him in line. Just don't harbour the illusion that it'll work forever.

Art doesn't belong to me, nor does the character!

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