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cecilthecowardly ¡ 7 months ago
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What are your top three moomin adaptations (be detailed) (image accompaniment)
OKAY SO. for the uninitiated moomin is one of my biggest interests in the world. i am very picky about my moomin adaptations. i have beef with the 90s anime that i cannot ever discuss out of fear i will be crucified for it.
THAT BEING SAID!!! MY TOP THREE MOOMIN ADAPTATIONS EVER!!!
#3:
the moomin comics! originally beginning in around the 1950s, i'm hesitant to call it an adaptation necessarily since it was created by tove jansson and her brother lars. it's more of an addendum to the moomin canon, but it's different enough tonally and with the content itself that i feel as if it could be either a grey area or an adaptation. i love it for its plot and sense of humor like. oh my god
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(the context is that the moomin family feels too basic and normal for how cool snufkin is, so moominpappa is lying for fun here) (i believe they do end up committing tax evasion, though)
#2:
moominvalley 2019! it's a computer generated adaptation made for modern audiences but it's very faithful to its source and was my first introduction to the moomins, actually. it's comedic while being very heartfelt and emotional in its themes, motifs, and characterization, and the relationship between snufkin and moomintroll is at the forefront of every decision made. the voice acting is phenomenal -- taron egerton of sing and rocketman fame voices moomintroll, for instance, and matt berry (lazslo from wwdits) voices moominpappa -- and the song choices are too! they got a lot of european indie singers like cavetown, girl in red, and dodie to compose and sing music for the show and it pays off so well. it embodies moomin perfectly and i adore it so much. also once again just Look
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#1:
THE FUZZY FELT MOOMINS. it feels silly to put this at number one because of how strongly i feel about the 2019 adaptation but this one is just. so important to me. it's so comforting and sweet and a rather faithful adaptation in my experience. the music is enchanting and beautiful and the animation is so captivating and charming that it just has to be at number one because it's so SO GOOD. one guy narrates the entire thing and he does little voices for everybody and it's adorable to me. he narrates it as if it were the books -- and i believe they do just quote directly from the books' translations at times -- and it's phenomenal in every way. i just love it so much i have every one of the episodes on a USB
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vanillarosekiss ¡ 23 days ago
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rough sex with simon
♡ p!link ♡
warnings: smut, lack of foreplay (smh simon), breeding kink, simon being a little rough and relentless but super sweet to you throughout! (Is this really gross i cannot tell??)
There were times where Simon and you would make love to each other - sweet and soft and oh so heavenly, it was almost ethereal. And there were times where you fucked with so much anger or passionate frustration that you felt dirty, but it was sort of exhilarating when you did.
This time, Simon had come home from a long day of shouting orders at incompetent subordinates and dealing with unruly new recruits, and he wasn't in any good mood. You could tell because of how tense he'd been all evening, even when you curled up next to him on the sofa after you'd both eaten. That was new for him, he would usually be all over you, showering you with kisses or sweet compliments, asking how your day had been.
Knowing how he was, you decided to try cheering him up by going to your bedroom and putting on a cute lingerie set, his favourite. All lacy and pink and delicate - the complete opposite of what he was. He liked how different you were, it separated his work from his home. But he was undeniably frustrated that particular evening, not saying so much as a "s'pretty" before ripping it off you, thread snapping and lace breaking apart in strings of blush.
"Simon! I really liked that set." you said, pouting your lips as he gently pushed you flat on your back onto the bed.
"I'll buy you another one, baby." he reassured you, undoing his belt and unzipping his trousers. You laid back, watching him as he did this, not scared but cautious of how rough he'd be if he was frustrated from work.
He didn't bother prepping you at all like he usually did, just making you squirm by rubbing his tip against your core and up to your clit until you were soaked enough to let him in. Without any hesitation, he pushed into you, all the way, making you arch your back and moan in a mix of pain and pleasure. His thrusts were uncomfortable at first; you tried to readjust your position but he held you down so you couldn't move around at all. He eased off a little when the tears started to roll down your cheeks, more out of ecstasy than pain now, as he drilled into you.
The sounds you were making were borderline pornographic, and so were the repetitive sounds of his hips meeting the plush of your ass. He pushed your thighs down towards your chest to angle better into your hole, hitting a spot deep in you that made you whine and close your eyes.
"Pretty little angel. Look how good you are at taking me yeah?" He cooed to you as he grabbed your hair and lifted your head up, forcing you to watch as his cock slid in and out of you with ease. You moaned at the erotic sight, being fucked too dumb for words.
"So tight for me baby." He grunted a little, changing up his pace and keeping your head held up.
"Gonna fill you up until you're a gorgeous leaking mess." Simon could feel you tightening around him as he said this, going deeper into you with each thrust now. You were a whining, whimpering mess by the time he had finished in you, breathless and hot. He made you watch as he pulled out, his cum erupting from inside you and dripping down onto the tip of his cock, before he pushed it back into you.
"M'sorry if I was too hard on you sweets." He apologised and kissed you lovingly on your forehead.
"Just too pretty and soft f'me. Need to keep you nice and fucked out all the time hmm?"
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Tag list 𖠋: @punkkture @slut-lmao @sebastianstans-slut @ilikeoldmen @g1rlfa1lure0 @queenoflaflames @tmartin0918 @kkloubee @goldie-221 @patricksoulmate @writingandsins @mxnee777 @caro-line19  @decaffeinateddelusionbread @lovidovii @xoxoxoaspen @i-ship-stony-and-superfamily @simonrileysdarling @siphon07 @figthoughts
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ro-is-struggling ¡ 10 months ago
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Earn It || Spencer Reid x Reader
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Summary: While Spencer was away on a case, you had no better idea than to send him spicy pictures of yourself as a way to encourage him to work harder to get home fast. You ignored his warnings and orders to stop and now that he was back home it was time to face the consequences of acting like a spoiled brat. 
Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, porn without plot, established relationship, dom!spencer, sexting, masturbation, bondage, dirty talk, cum eating, deprivation of touch used as punishment (if that makes sense? idk it's just porn)
English is not my first language
Word count: 3300
Notes: idk what this is, I have had this idea in my mind for a while now and I only wrote it because someone left me a nice message praising my spencer smut, so enjoy, I guess
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You were buzzing with anticipation, counting down the minutes until Spencer got home. You knew you'd be in trouble —it was clear from the short messages he'd sent you—, but that was part of the fun. You had crossed the line this time. The messages you had sent him while he was stuck at work could only be described as torture. But you couldn't be held accountable for your actions, at least not completely. You missed him-his touch, his lips on yours, the sound of his voice calling your name-and you wanted to make sure he knew it. 
Spencer had been away from home for too long, working a few states over to catch a killer who targeted young, blonde women. It was apparently a tough case so for the last few weeks you had to settle for talking to him on the phone late at night. Hearing his voice before bedtime was nice, comforting, but over time it stopped being enough. You missed having him by your side at night, feeling his warmth and the touch of his fingers on your skin. You missed his kisses, his soft lips caressing your body while you whispered his name into the darkness of the night....
It was clear that phone calls were no longer enough to satiate your need for him, so in a moment of impulsive arousal you decided to give him a little incentive to work harder to come home to you. You were simply showing him what he was missing.
The first picture you sent him was simple and tasteful, a conscious choice intended to lure him into your trap. It only showed the lower half of your face, your lips drawn into a sad pout. It also showed part of your chest which was covered by one of Spencer's shirts. It had the first few buttons undone, showing your collarbone and the mound of your breasts, but nothing more. You sent it with a simple 'I miss you', hoping he had his phone nearby to see it.
His reply came not long after, and you almost felt bad for what you were about to do when you read his innocent and oblivious 'I miss you too :(‘. You replied with another photo, this time much more revealing. The shirt was unbuttoned now, revealing the cute red lace bra that hugged your breasts. It was Spencer's favorite and you knew it was going to have the desired effect on him. 'I wish you were here...' you wrote before you sent it. And without waiting for a reply you sent him another picture, this time showing the full lingerie being, posing in a provocative way. Without hesitation you wrote 'to rip it off my body' and pressed send. 
You knew your little plan had worked because Spencer didn't answer for quite a while. He had seen the messages, but he was probably too stunned and busy to reply to you. When he finally did, it was a warning. 'Behave.' was all he wrote back, but you ignored it. In the next picture you sent him you had removed your bra, your hard nipples framed perfectly in the picture. Two of your fingers were lost between your lips, the red lipstick slightly smudged at the corners. 'I wish they were your fingers' you typed and Spencer's reply was another warning. 'But I guess mine will have to do for now' you ignored him once again, sending him a video of you burying those same fingers inside you as you moaned his name. 
Your provocative messages didn't stop until you came, but even though you knew Spencer had seen them, he didn't reply. Nor did he call you that night like he had been doing every day. He was silent for two whole days. Two long days in which you kept wondering if maybe you had taken things too far. It was torture waiting for some kind of sign from him that would bring you some relief, but when you read the message he sent you knew that had been his intention all along.
'I'm on my way home. I want you in bed wearing the red set by the time I get there.' was all he wrote and you knew he was angry. Spencer was going to make you pay for behaving so badly and you couldn't help but wonder what method he would use to teach you a lesson. Punishments were always creative with him. Spencer wasn't very keen on violence during intimacy, it reminded him too much of his job, you supposed. He was rough in bed when he was in the mood for it and never objected to giving you a spanking or two when you deserved it, but he didn't enjoy making you cry in pain or leaving severe marks on your skin. 
Spencer was more of a soft, pleasure dom, which meant that most of the time he was more intense than aggressive. He loved the irony of using pleasure to create pain, often overstimulating you to the point that your body would scream for him to stop. His domination over you was more subtle, more psychological, so his punishments always had a hint of irony in them. The worst one —and at the same time, the best one– had been once you had come without his permission. His way of teaching you a lesson that time was forcing you to cum over and over again, attacking your abused pussy with his fingers, his tongue and a vibrator without giving you hardly any time to recover between orgasms.
You wondered if Spencer had something similar in mind, the very idea frightening and exciting you at the same time. Your clit throbbed between your legs, your panties ruined with your arousal before Spencer even got to lay a finger on you. That was the effect he had on you. All he had to do was send you a stupid message and your whole body would begin to tingle with anticipation, waiting for his command.
When you heard the sound of the apartment door opening you almost jumped out of bed with joy. There was nothing you wanted more than to run into your boyfriend's arms and shower him with kisses as you told him how much you had missed him. But you knew you couldn't —or, rather, shouldn't— do that. Spencer wanted you in bed, wearing his favorite lingerie, and that's exactly what you did. Even though it was a little late to play nice now, you didn't want to give him any more reason to prolong your punishment —whatever it was. So you settled on the bed, putting yourself in a suggestive pose and waited patiently for Spencer to enter the room.
He took his time and you knew he was doing it on purpose. Your punishment had begun the moment you decided to ignore his warnings and now you had no choice but to accept it. Listening to his footsteps walking around the apartment, knowing that he was only a couple of feet away without being able to do anything about it was a real torture, but you deserved it.
"I'm disappointed in you," was the first thing Spencer said when he finally entered the room. He had that hard look in his eyes that he always gave you when you disobeyed him - the one that told you it was in your best interests to listen to him. His pupils were widened, the beautiful hazel color almost completely taken over by the darkness of desire in his eyes. You shifted nervously on the bed, suddenly feeling small under his intense gaze. Spencer walked toward you and you felt like an animal trapped by the predator that wanted to eat it. There was nowhere to run.
"You've been a very bad girl," he clicked his tongue in disapproval, bringing his hands to his neck to loosen the knot of his tie. "Teasing me with those pictures while I was at work, ignoring my warnings, cuming without my permission." Spencer shook his head and you sunk your teeth into your lower lip. The tone in his voice —too calm for someone in his position— almost made you regret your little stunt. Almost. "If you want to act like a spoiled brat, I'll treat you like one."
Spencer ordered you to sit on the bed with your back against the headboard. You obeyed without question, knowing that this was not the best time to complain. You watched him remove his tie in one tug, twisting the soft fabric in his hands before approaching you. He was careful in tying your wrists to the headboard, his fingers barely grazing your skin as he made sure to limit your movements, leaving you completely at his mercy. It was torture to feel him so close and not be able to touch him. Not to mention how incredibly frustrating it was that his hands barely rested on you when it was strictly necessary, as if your skin was burning him. You hated it, but when you let out a whine of protest, Spencer gave you a look that let you know it was best to keep your mouth shut. 
"You're going to stay there and keep your eyes on me at all times." He stated with a calmness in his voice that should have alarmed you. But instead of wondering what he was up to —and what that calm meant to you— your mind was distracted by the slow movement of his hands as he unbuttoned his shirt, revealing himself to you. " Now you'll know how I felt when I saw your pictures and those videos of you pleasuring yourself while I was stuck at work, unable to do anything about it."
Spencer moved closer to you, leaning down to be at eye level with you. The air caught in your throat as you stared at him, fearing that your mere breath might somehow cause him to pull away from you again. His gaze was firm, intimidating, but hidden among all the desire and lust you could still make out a glimmer of the characteristic softness in his eyes. It was an interesting contrast, captivating. It reminded you that no matter how rough he might be at the moment, the sweet, loving, everyday Spencer was just a word away.
You could hardly believe he was touching you when he took your face in one of his hands. His warm, slender fingers pressed over your cheeks, forcing your lips into a pout. He used his grip to tilt your head up to make sure your eyes never left his at any time. He had you trapped between his hand and his eyes, frozen still as you anxiously awaited his next words.
"Now you'll be the helpless one. You'll be the one that has to sit back and watch as I pleasure myself, tied to the bed, unable to do anything to relieve the pressure between your legs."
After removing the last of his clothes, Spencer settled himself on the opposite side of the bed. He made sure you had the best view of him and his hard cock before he began to pleasure himself. Your eyes followed the movement of his hand as if you were being hypnotized. Up and down, up and down, his hand moved along his shaft while his mouth let out the sweetest moans you had ever heard. Every little gasp he let out went straight to your center, that throbbed desperate for attention. Spencer sounded desperate and you wondered if he hadn't relieved himself since you had sent him those pictures.
You fought your bonds without even realizing it, your body responding in its own accords to Spencer's stimulation. He didn't scold you for it, on the contrary he seemed to enjoy it. He increased the pace of his hand slightly, his eyes never leaving your figure. The way they roamed over your body —slowly moving down from your face to your neck, stopping at the curve of your breasts before trailing their way down your abdomen and to your legs— almost felt like his caresses. If you concentrated hard enough you could feel the ghost of his fingers following the path of his eyes. But it wasn't enough, not when you were trapped listening to Spencer's moans, watching his hand move up and down his cock as his tip leaked precum. Your mouth watered at the sight, yearning to feel the weight of his cock against your tongue. You could almost taste the salty treat on your tongue, your brain recreating it as best it could. It was criminal that he wouldn't let you touch him when he was so close to you. 
"Like what you see?" Spencer mocked you as a pathetic whimper managed to escape your lips. "It's such a shame you were so bad 'cause right now you could be the one touching me... And I could be pleasuring you."
"Yes, please! I'm sorry, I won't do it again. Just please, I need it." you begged, momentarily excited by the mention of him pleasuring you. You were willing to do anything to end this torture. 
But Spencer wouldn't budge. "Oh, I know you do, baby. I can see the wet spot in your panties from here. But I can't give it to you. Only good, obedient girls get what they want and you have been very, very bad."
He enjoyed every second of your torture, delighting in the whimpers you let out and the way you struggled against your bonds. Your body squirmed deliciously on the bed, protesting against the lack of attention. Spencer responded to your whimpers with moans, being more vocal than usual to prolong your torture. Every sound he let out increased the fire in your stomach along with your frustration. Your pussy tightened around nothing, desperate for attention. The pressure in your tummy was too much, almost unbearable. You needed relief, whatever would help you take the edge off. 
You didn't even realize you were squeezing your legs together until it was too late. You were desperate and while the little friction your thighs provided as you squirmed was not enough, it was better than nothing. Your clit pulsed with every little movement, your juices trickling down your legs and making your job easier. You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to concentrate on the subtle tingling between your legs to see if you could increase the pleasure that way somehow. The moan that fell from your lips was pathetic, a mixture of pleasure and frustration that alerted Spencer to your little trick just as you were getting somewhere.
You snapped your eyes open as you felt the impact of his hand against your calf. Spencer gave you a stern look, his expression blank as he forced your legs apart again. "You do that again and I won't let you cum tonight, am I clear?"
"Yes, sir!" you whimpered, feeling your hope renewing at the promise of a future orgasm. "I'm sorry! I'll be good, I promise."
It was real torture to have Spencer so close, naked and stroking his cock inches away without being able to touch it. His moans were getting louder and louder, his words dirtier and more condescending —praising your expression of desperation and mocking the way you twisted against your bonds. Your desperation increased along with the speed of his hands, which worked increasingly faster to bring him to the edge of pleasure. He was close, you could feel it, and as pathetic as it sounded, so were you. Your underwear was ruined, soaked with the juices of your arousal. Spencer hadn't touched you, but you were sure that a simple brush against your clit was all you needed to reach your climax.
"Was it worth it, baby?" He managed to say between gasps. "Was it worth it to disobey me? Sending all those pictures just to end up like this, tied to the bed, forced to watch me pleasure myself while you get nothing." 
Oh Spencer was enjoying torturing you way too much. He wanted to break you, push you to your very limit and hear you beg for his forgiveness. He wanted you to earn your relief just as you had earned your punishment and he wasn't going to stop until you begged for mercy. In another circumstance you might have put up more of a fight, after all, it was always fun to riled him up. But you were far too desperate to feel his touch to play hard to get. You needed him, you'd been apart too long and you couldn't stand the distance a second longer. 
"No, it wasn't! I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done it. I should have listened to you. I won't do it again, I promise! I'll behave! Just, please... please." There was no way to hide the pathetic tone in your voice. You were so frustrated, so needy for attention, that you could almost feel the tears burning in your eyes. You were willing to cry if that's what it took to earn Spencer's forgiveness. You would do anything to feel his hands on you.
"Oh yeah? You'll behave?" He spoke as if he didn't believe you, a wicked smile playing on his lips as he increased the pace of his hand. "Will you stop acting like a spoiled brat and be my good, obedient little girl?"
"Yes! I'll be your good girl, I promise! I'll be so good for you, sir! Please."
Suddenly, Spencer stood up from his place on the bed, approaching you in a couple of steps. "Open up then." He commanded bringing the head of his dripping, reddened cock close to your lips. You didn't need him to tell you twice, tilting your face up as you opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out, eagerly waiting to taste him.
"That's it, that's a good girl... swallow it, swallow all of me... good girl." Spencer moaned as he came in your mouth, his hand stroking himself until he shot the very last drop of cum on your tongue. The squeal of bliss you let out at the taste of his salty flavor was pathetic, but you were too far gone to care. You eagerly swallowed everything he gave you, devouring it as if it were the sweetest candy. 
Spencer mumbled sweet praises as he came down from his high, caressing your head with his usual softness. It was a small action, but you missed his touch so much that it was enough to fill you with joy. You thought you were finally in the clear, that you had received your punishment so well that Spencer would show you mercy and finally let you touch him. But when he sat down across from you again and looked into your eyes, you noticed that the intimidating darkness was still present in them. You struggled against your bonds once more to see if he would take pity on you and untie you. But he answered you with a click of his tongue that stopped you immediately.
"You did such a good job for me, baby."  Spencer's voice was barely a husky whisper. He brought one of his fingers up to your cheek, collecting the drops of his cum that hadn't made it into your mouth. You tried to lean into his touch, but he removed his hand quickly, bringing his finger to your lips. He didn't have to tell you what to do, you automatically opened your mouth and wrapped your tongue around his finger, tasting his relief. 
"But your punishment isn't over yet. You earned your relief, but haven't earned my forgiveness yet. You still don't get to touch me. Now open those pretty legs for me. I'll give you what you want and we'll see how much you can take."
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fettuccin-e ¡ 1 year ago
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So Good
Kinktober Day 17: Praise Kink
Tags: Miguel O'Hara x Reader, afab!fem!reader, unprotected piv, fingering (r!recieving), praise kink of course, Miguel has a filthy fucking mouth, shy!reader, miguel going feral because of course he does (w/c: 1.2K)
A/N: Back on my Miguel bullshit for my Kinktober catch-up of course. I cannot help it when he is so big and broad and sexy okay??? Anyway enjoy him goin' feral for his girl for 1k words hehehe (For the month, I have been following this list from flightlessangelwings!)
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He first noticed it after a mission, and cursed himself for never seeing it before. 
It had been innocent, tugging you close to his side as you both walked through the portal back to HQ, whispering a “you did good out there,” into your ear. Innocent enough.
But you had practically squeaked, your eyes looking anywhere but him, nearly pulling out of his grasp. Miguel saw how your thighs clenched together at the compliment, and it takes everything in him not to take you in the hallway right then, bury his face between them.
He doesn’t. He opts for filing it away in his mind, saving the information for later, somehow knowing that it would be important.
You both hadn’t been together for very long then, still in the trial stage of this new beautiful thing between you both. He was still hesitant to kiss you then, you had still been hesitating to go to his apartment with him.
But Miguel watches, waits, and of course, gathers more information. Starts complimenting you more on missions, in the office. Tells you what good work you’ve done, how you look so pretty in the new dress he bought you. It makes you fluster nearly immediately, your gaze pinned to the floor as you smile shyly, and fuck, those gorgeous, gorgeous thighs clench together every time. Taunting him.
Finally, after months of watching, waiting, he gives in.
He’s got you spread out beneath him, practically sobbing as he fucks you deep on his thick fingers. You loosen up so easily for him, desperate for it, your slick fucking dripping around his hand. Finally, after so long waiting to tell you exactly what goes on in his mind when he has you like this,  he lets himself speak aloud.
“So good, hermosa, taking me so well,” he murmurs, and watches as your eyes fly open, a strangled moan flying from your lips. He can’t help the smile that plays at his lips. “You like that baby? Like hearing how good you are, how perfect you sound when I’m playing with this gorgeous pussy?” He can fucking feel the way your cunt clenches around his fingers with his words.
“Fuck, oh my God, Miguel-” you gasp, but you can’t seem to help yourself as you grind your hips towards Miguel’s hand. He adds another finger, stretching you wide to take his cock. “You- you can’t just-”
Miguel growls, leaning forward to nip at your jaw with fanged teeth. “Oh baby, of course I can. I can tell you how fucking good this pussy feels around my fingers, how it’s going to feel even better around my cock. This little cunt gets so wet for me, doesn’t she?” You whine wordlessly, and Miguel grinds the calloused pads of his fingers into that sweet spot that makes you fucking scream for him. “Answer me,” he snarls.
“Yes! Yes, ‘m so fucking wet, need you to fuck me so bad, Miguel,” you cry, humping your hips desperately into his hand, chasing your orgasm. 
“Come on, sweetheart, soak my fucking hand,” he says, deep and dark, his eyes trained on the way your entrance leaks around his fingers. He reaches a thumb up to rub hard circles into your clit, and chuckles darkly when you let out a shaky moan with your orgasm, clenching around his thick fingers and somehow getting even wetter.
“So fucking pretty when you cum for me,” he mumbles, and your eyelids flutter shut, trying to breathe through the aftershocks.
Miguel pulls his hand out of your gaping entrance, bringing his hand to his mouth and sucking your slick off his fingers. “Tastes so good, baby,” he murmurs, and you whine softly under your breath, completely at a loss for words.
Leaning down, he licks into your mouth, giving you a taste of yourself as he notches the thick, leaking head of his cock to your entrance, pushing in, in, in.
Like every time you take him, it’s so much, and you gasp into his mouth as his cock reaches so deep inside, spreading you wide enough that you fear you’ll break.
“I know, amorcita, I know, it’s so much, isn’t it?” he whispers against your lips as he pushes in to the hilt. "You’re taking it so well for me though, baby, so fucking good for me.” 
He can’t help the groan that wrenches its way out of his throat when you clench around him like a vice, moaning high in the back of your throat. His hips move of their own accord, pulling slowly out of you before he shoves himself back in, and it feels like he reaches even deeper.
“God, Miguel-” you moan, “it feels so good, you feel so big.” And Miguel’s vision blurs at the edges, his eyes tingeing red at your words.
He loses himself to it, the way your cunt squeezes him every time he pushes inside, hot and tight and fucking maddening. You claw at his shoulders every time he presses deep, grinding the tip of his cock into your cunt while overwhelming pleasure sparks up your spine.
He wraps his strong arms around the small of your back, tugging you up into a nearly impossible arch as he fucks into you like a goddamn animal, your head pressed back into the pillows. “So fucking perfect,” he snarls, and God, he’s not even talking to you anymore. His eyes are unfocused, wild, unable to focus on your face or the sight of your swollen pussy as you take him over and over and over. But he doesn’t stop talking. 
“Fucking perfect, beautiful girl, taking my cock so goddamn well. My fucking girl, so good to me with her perfect pussy, feels so good, Dios, necesito este cuerpo constantemente, mi nena, mierda-”
Your head swims, blood pounding in your ears as he takes and takes and takes. You feel tears fall down your cheeks, choked moans forcing their way from your lungs.
Your orgasm rips through you without warning, without buildup, your body just locking up and electrified like a livewire as you soak his cock, his thighs. 
“Good girl,” he rasps. “That’s my good fucking girl.”
“Shit- Miguel-” you keen, but he only shushes you, nearly hissing through his fangs, as he pushes as deep as he can into your body, pumping you full as his cock pulses inside of you. It’s fucking everything, pure bliss, and you both tremble through it together. He lowers your hips slowly back down to the bed, keeping himself buried deep inside while you quake through the aftershocks.
Time passes, but you can’t tell how fast it does. Only that you try to match your breathing together, Miguel wiping the tears off your cheeks. “Fucking perfect,” he whispers, but you’re too fucked out to respond.
He pulls out slowly, rolling you to your side, and plastering himself to your back. You can hear the way he breathes you in, and you settle into his warm body.
“Got a thing for compliments, baby?” he murmurs into your hair.
“You ass, I was trying to be subtle about that,” you admonish, but you can’t help the way you smile.
“Can’t hide anything from me, sweetheart,” he chuckles, his chest rumbling against your back. You tilt your head to the side, and Miguel leans to meet you in a kiss.
“I’ve still got my secrets, O’Hara,” you mutter against his lips, and Miguel grins.
“If you say so, baby.”
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midday-clouds ¡ 3 months ago
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Yandere Batfamily x Neglected & "Immortal" Reader 》 IV
Part I Part II Part III
Wow, can't believe this was just a concept idea and this is part IV XD Part V may be the end but I'm not entirely sure. Don't get your hopes up for a part VI
Also, some of y'all wanted a tag list soo (Did my best but I couldn't @ some of you-)
Tag: @redkarmakai @erikasurfer @szapizzapanda @kore-of-the-underworld @imhere2dosomething @pastel-mouse @cooki3dough @naina326 @peptox @ladylupuscrow @confused-they @megasweetbones @1-800-crazy @lillian-morningstar @butterflycardigann
CW: Mention of past kidnapping, bar fight, blood, "death" and lab testing. Self-harm (Reader testing their ability). Gun shot and injury.
After you finally get Richard Grayson off your windowsill, you can sit down and eat
What makes him think that he can just walk into your life?! And with him being a vigilante, he most definitely could have saved you all that time ago! 
To clear your head, you try to remember what happened before you found yourself in your “brother’s” apartment. 
You and your friends wanted to go to a bar before college started…….a fight happened….How are your friends?! Did classes start already?! 
Opening your group chat with your friends, there are some messages about the bar fight, Red Hood, and how they’d visit you in the hospital
When making your message for the chat, you lie about being discharged from the hospital and ask if classes have already started
Your friends are so kind and update you on everything that has happened since you were in the hospital
The fall semester has begun but you should have an excuse because you were in the hospital
With some help, you were able to email all your professors about your absence and just hope they don’t drop you from the classes
Also hope they don’t ask for any documents from the hospital to confirm that you were there.
After a bit of rambling, you and your friends log off the group chat for the night. You never told them about what actually happened to you or what you found out about Nightwing, Red Hood, etc.
The information is difficult for you to process. Your whole family are famous vigilantes and no one came to save you when you were kidnapped. 
And Nightwing, he really was your first friend in Bludhaven and it always hurts to lose someone close
But he doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve your attention and time when he abandoned you just like the rest of the family.
You would have been dead if it wasn't for this weird thing that keeps your heart beating!
Maybe it would be a good idea to test this “power” of yours. You’ve died twice now and it seems that it takes a couple of days to heal and regain consciousness
Just for a small test, you make a small cut on your finger and watch it heal right before your eyes. You were hesitant to do these tests at first but this is also fascinating
Another cut is but a little bigger and it takes a little longer to heal. 
This continues a few times before you can have an idea of how long it takes for your body to heal itself. 
Once you’re done, you decide to go to sleep again and wait until it’s morning
Back at the manor, Tim has been hard at work. Making multiple plans that will end with you coming back home
Some are more intense than others but it can't be helped if you decide to be difficult 
Tim has also spent a lot of time researching your “powers”
Back when Dick saved you from that thief, Tim took the knife with your blood on it for research
Some interesting findings can be helpful if all else fails
It’s around noon when you wake up and your professors responded to your emails
They say that you’re allowed to keep your classes but there is a lot of classwork to catch up on
After eating some lunch, you sit down and look over all the work you’ve got to do. That is a lot….
You spend all day struggling and planning how you’ll get help
The next day, you decide to go to class. You go a little early because you knew you’d likely be lost
Luck seems to be on your side because you’re able to find your classroom! 
Walking inside, you talk to the professor and they tell you about a project for pairs
Thankfully, you’ve already been assigned a pair so you won’t be alone. You do feel bad about not being here to help though 
The professor points you in the direction of your partner and you introduce yourself. The moment your pair looks at you, your mood immediately takes a 180
Why is Tim Drake in your class? Doesn’t he go to a college in Gotham or something?
You pretend to be polite until the professor walks away and you glare at your partner while he just smiles at you
When you sit next to Tim, you try to sit as far away from him but he just moves closer
Before you can argue with him, the professor starts talking about the assignment for the day
You try to do the assignment alone but immediately get lost and you reluctantly accept Tim’s offers to help
Tim’s explanations were quite helpful and you both finished quite quickly. The room is filled with chatter so you take this moment to interrogate your “brother”
He gives vague answers to your questions but is sure to mention that he didn't want to leave his “sibling” by themself
Before you can respond, Tim cuts you off by saying he has something for you
You watch him carefully as he shows you a familiar item
Your phone
You instinctively reach for it but Tim stops you by grabbing your wrist
Glaring at Tim and his smiling face, he says he’ll give your phone back if you’d go back to the manor for at least one night
Tim repositions his hand on your wrist to be your hands intertwined 
You try to remove your hand but Tim persists. It isn't until you decline his offer does he put your hand down
You’ve lived a couple of weeks now without your phone so there is no need for it. Plus, you plan to buy a new one later
Tim doesn’t mention the family for the rest of the class
When class is over, you immediately go to the library (Almost got lost) to finish more work 
You settle at an empty table near a window and take out your laptop. Of course, it doesn't take long for you to struggle with the assignment and begin feeling annoyed
(Un)Luckly, Tim has found you and offered to help
With his help, you’re able to complete a few assignments before you have another class to go to
Tim invites you to the manor again but you still decline him
You only have two classes today so you hope to get home as soon as possible before running into Tim again
This repeats for a couple of more days
Everyday, you always have Tim in one of your classes
Tim attempts to bribe you to go to the manor with him, with your phone, playing games together, some other stuff you didn’t pay attention to
At least he never bribed you with his help on your classwork. Even after you catch up on old assignments, there are just so many concepts to understand
It’s annoying but Tim has successfully squeezed himself into your life by constantly being around
Something seems to have changed though because you notice Tim has started to leave you alone more
You don’t know why but would rather not question it. He’s a vigilante, right? He probably has some work to defeat a villain or something, you can literally care less about what Tim does
One day, you’re with your friends to participate in an event on campus. There are supposed to be games and free food so why not
Before the event began, there was a speech from the sponsor of the event
The sponsor is a lab group of some kind, promoting the study of life and encouraging new findings. You don’t know what it is but something about them sends a shiver down your spine
When the speech ends, you and your friends play a few games when a person from the sponsor stopped by
You all talk a bit and answer some minor questions before the person goes to a different group of people
At the end of the event, your friends offer to drop you off at home but you decline. You don’t live that far away and you also have pepper spray to keep yourself safe
While walking a person blocks your path. It’s that same sponsor person from the event
They go into more detail about the lab group they’re in, researching life and all
You do your best to remain calm, not showing your disturbance by their sudden presence
That is until they point out how there was a bar fight in the area and a victim went missing
A victim that looks exactly like you, covered in bruises and cuts, bleeding so much that the hospital wouldn’t be able to save them
Yet here you are, in perfect condition
This is when they finally reveal their intentions, wanting to figure out how you escape death
Offering a place in the lab group as a researcher and totally not a test subject
You pretend to consider their offer while carefully taking your pepper spray out of your pocket
It seems the person planned for this because they quickly take out and shoot at your hand holding the pepper spray
Terrified, you immediately make a run for it
You’re filled with so much adrenaline that you can't hear the person shout and the other gunshots that nearly miss you 
Running through multiple alleyways, something suddenly grabs you and pulls you into an almost pitch-black area
Things move quickly as an arm wrap around your waist, a whirling sound is suddenly hear above you, your feet leave the ground, and now you’re on a rooftop
You almost collapse once this new random person releases you from their hold
No longer in a dark alley, you can finally see who this new person is
Red Robin 
He gives you some time to catch your breath and calm down, putting his grappling gun back on his utility belt
Once your heart rate slows to a normal pace, you’re quick to show your annoyance at seeing the vigilante
Red Robin just seems to smile at you, not showing how your words affect him in any way
When you finally give Red Robin a chance to speak, he goes straight to the point
He admits to leaking some information to that lab group, just wanting you to see how you can live on your own
Even if Red Robin didn’t tell the lab group about your ability, they would have found out eventually 
That’s what happened to your mother after all
The vigilante then gives you two options
You can go with the research team and be tested on for the rest of your life or you can have a life back at the manor
Hell, there is a chance that your family of vigilantes can find and save your mother. Allowing you to reunite
As long as you returned home
With your two options, you find yourself back at Dick’s apartment
Dick bandaging up your hand, Jason carrying a box with stuff from your apartment, and Tim contacting Bruce
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sttoru ¡ 1 year ago
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“𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘, 𝐀𝐌 𝐈 𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓? 𝐈’𝐌 𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐄𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐈𝐓.” — ISABEL LAROSA.
𝓲. a collection of fictional works about gojo satoru as reader’s older boyfriend (8-14 year age gap). keep in mind that the reader is and will always be portrayed as an adult & university student — being minimum 20 years of age.
𝓲𝓲. the works are divided into both sfw and nsfw categories. please read the tags properly before you read each piece listed down below.
𝓲𝓲𝓲. requests for this series are closed for now. there will be an announcement made when the requests for this series are open again. i also have no deadline to finish any of the fics stated down below — this is a continuous and incomplete series for as long as i say it is.
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general content warning: age gap & size difference. if you’re uncomfortable with these themes, please scroll or click away.
\\ in his office — nsfw
your boyfriend shows you just how much he adores you in his office.
\\ ‘jealousy, jealousy’ — sfw.
your boyfriend comes to pick you up from uni. little did you know that his good looks would attract much unwanted attention from your classmates; cw. jealousy.
\\ ‘caught in the act’ — nsfw
your boyfriend catches you masturbating while he was away.
\\ ‘maturity’ — sfw.
your boyfriend sleeps on the couch after an argument you both had earlier that day. after calming your nerves and taking time for yourself, you realise that you might have been a bit too harsh on him.
\\ ‘future wife’ — nsfw
your boyfriend buys you a pretty golden necklace with his initials, not knowing it will only intensify the urge to claim you as his own in every way.
\\ ‘first - and definitely not last - good impression’ — (n)sfw.
your boyfriend wants to introduce you to his friends and co-workers. you were hesitant at first, due to the insecurities you have about your age difference. luckily, satoru knew just how to calm you down. cw. to be added.
\\ ‘bragging and its consequences’ — sfw + nsfw.
your boyfriend is to be bragged about. especially when he’s got the good looks, money and personality. satoru catches you in the act one day as you talk about him to your friends. cw. to be added.
\\ ‘birthday remembrance’ — sfw + nsfw.
your boyfriend welcomes you home after a stressful day at university. whilst spending the day with him, you feel like you had forgotten something important. and satoru knew just the way to remind you of it. cw. to be added
\\ ‘spoiled princess’ — nsfw.
you finally got the results to your recent exams back — all which were passing grades. when breaking the happy news to your boyfriend, he comes up with a way to reward you for your hard work.
\\ ‘a drug’ — n(sfw)
your boyfriend cannot stop himself from kissing you all over. kissing you is his favorite thing to do - no matter when or where.
‘attitude? gone’ — nsfw
satoru picks you up after your lecture to spend quality time with you, only to realise you got an attitude that needs some fixing.
more to be added . . .
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OTHERS.
texting with him (hcs)
texts with him (smau)
cuddle weather (drabble)
wearing his hoodie (nsfw)
first time at his house
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STTORU Š 2024. do not steal, copy or translate my works in any way or form. do not use my self-made banners and dividers.
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thefrontmanscockwarmer ¡ 23 days ago
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I Can Do Better
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Player 001 x reader [SMUT]📸
Masterlist <- Comment on this post to be added to the tag list
You laid quietly in bed, in the dark. Of course it’s dark. Lights out for everyone, even you. You couldn’t deny you were extremely horny. You usually masturbated at this time anyway. Or whatever night of the night… you couldn’t tell what time it was.
You slipped your hand inside your pants as quietly as possible. Trying not to wake anyone around you. You circled your clit softly, waking the fountain in your pussy. Not completely soaked but not good enough for you to push your way to an orgasm.
Finally reaching a wetness level that satisfied you, you stuck your fingers in your core. Aiming to hit your g-spot so you could do this as quickly as possible and go to bed.
30 minutes later, still no luck. Your hand was pruned. You dropped your tired arm with a sigh. Before turning over.
“Can I help you?” You heard a voice whisper. You turned and say Young il.
“Were you watching me that whole time?”
“No, i woke up on 5 minutes ago… long enough to notice you were unsuccessful. Can I help?” He repeated.
“Young il that’s a little -“
“Let’s just both admit our sexual tension is insanely high, okay? So don’t be an idiot and deny a poor man whose arm isn’t tired” he made a stab at you. “And you can get off”
“And how does you doing that benefit you at all, Young il?” You roll your eyes.
“If I make you cum in 5 minutes it proves I can do it better than you.”
“Why does that benefit you at all?” You argue. You couldn’t lie, he was right. You’d been wanting to get your hands on him and his pretty body since you saw him. He was always looking at your lips, licking his before darting his eyes to meet yours. Even during the six legged marathon shit, he had his arms wrapped around you so tightly.
“Shut up and move over.” He pushes you “stubborn prick”
“I’m a prick?” You repeat.
“Shut up.” He deadpans. He pulls your pants down and sits between your thighs.
“Young il what’re yo-“ you were cut off by the amazing feeling of his tongue licking your soaking cunt. “Oh my god” he placed his jacket sleeve in your mouth.
“I Said, (y/n), since you don’t understand the concept “shut the fuck up” your eyes rolled back as he jammed his tongue into your slot. You moaned softly at first, but as the sensations intensified, your muffled cries grew louder.
Young il lifted his head in alarm.
“You’re being too fucking loud” he said before going back to work. Your hands laced in his hair.
Time lost all meaning as Young il worked his magic. The only sound was your muffled moans and the soft slurping of Young il's tongue as he devoured your aching pussy. Pulling him closer into your pussy.
In what felt like an eternity but was only five minutes, you felt your knot beginning to break. Your body convulsed as you came hard on Young il's tongue. He quietly groaned in satisfaction as he lapped up every drop of cum that flowed from your pussy. As you rode out the waves of pleasure, Young il slowly pulled back.
You couldn’t help but shiver in delight as you looked at him in the dark. You could see a soft glow of wetness of his face. Fuck he looked so hot. He gently pulled out the jacket sleeve that had been stuffed into your mouth.
“Open” he pulled your jaw open softly, and he spat in your mouth. “Now swallow it” you obeyed his command.
Without hesitation or embarrassment, Young il took another moment to collect some more cum from his own lips and chin before leaning forward to spit it directly into your open mouth. He drove his fingers into you letting them soak up your cum before stuffing them into your mouth. Your sucked your cum off his fingers.
“Taste that?” He said cocky, licking his fingers after you. You nodded, he straddled your thighs. “That’s cum, sweetheart.”
“Yeah, I fucking know” you spat out jealously. Knowing you’d never live down those glorious 5 minutes.
“What can I do better than you?”
“Make me cum”
“Good girl” he kissed you. Ramming his cum tasting tongue in your mouth, earning a moan in the process. “How about we make something of this?”
“Like a prison relationship?” You scoffed.
“No like an actual relationship, fucking moron” he rolled his eyes. You agreed. Maybe you’d get something good out of it. He laid next to you. Pushing his arms around you.
“And what? What are we now, huh?”
“Dating” he sighed. “Go to sleep, I just wasted 9 minutes of time going back and forth with you and making you cum. My jaws tired.”
“Good night, young il”
“Good night, dumb bunny”
“Seriously?”
“Yes, you are mine, bunny” he smiled, you could feel that cocky grin from behind you. “And you know what eats bunnies?”
“Foxes.”
“Exactly” he says. A big sigh left your tiny chest. Finally falling asleep in his embrace.
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giddyfatherchris ¡ 1 month ago
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A movie i've seen before III
pairing. bang chan x f!reader
type. not requested, a little fluff and a whole lot of angst
warnings. f!reader, crying, relationships issues, trust issues, angst angst ANGST
wc. 4k
a/n. here we go part 3!! this one will be rough LMAO it took me so long to write it and it made me so angsty when i did buuuuuut i kinda love it and ive been having a whole lot of fun writing sm angst even though im so nervous to post this since its not in my "usual" style… anyway i hope you’ll enjoy mwah xx oh and! i love to listen to music when im writing and reading so here’s a few song i had on repeat while writing this: guilty as sin - taylor swift, ceilings - lizzy mcalpine, i wish i hated you - ariana grande (in this order specifically!)
dont forget to tell me if you want to be added to the tag list for the next part x
part I part II
(pics are not mine! credit to the owners!)
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The streets were softly illuminated. Restaurants and little bars were stuffed with people laughing and enjoying the gorgeous night. You looked around and felt a wave of glee wash over you. You loved people-watching, the freedom of the soft wind dancing through your hair, and most of all, you loved being here with him.
Rehearsals had been a flying success. The boys had been so excited to see some of their friends and the day flew by in a second. When you returned to the hotel, you should have been exhausted from such an intense and packed day. Still, all you felt was excitement and energy course through your blood at the prospect of the coming evening. Once you made sure the other boys were settled, they all encouraged you to go out, have some fun, and take advantage of being in the famous French city. Even Felix gave you an encouraging smile as you headed out, Chan by your side.
At first, he had been reluctant about your night out with his leader. He was scared for your heart. At the same time, he knew how hard you always worked and as he helped you decide on an outfit, he realized it had been a long time since he saw you this excited. So despite his reserves, he helped you figure out a cute outfit with a genuine smile. You deserved to enjoy the city and have fun after all your hard work. No matter what would come out of this night, he would be there for you and that's what mattered the most.
Even though you had spent the last few weeks making sure you kept a certain distance between you and the man at your side, you decided not to care about it tonight. You were tired, extenuated from trying to guard your heart. Chan's attitude in the past few weeks seemed different. Maybe Felix was wrong, perhaps he was ready for something more. So tonight you would be yourself, and enjoy whatever happened. You decided you deserved it. So you didn't refrain from doing anything you might have done before or wanted to do now. You let Chan hold your hand as you walked through the city. You let him hand-feed you a bite of his plate as you chatted in the restaurant. You let him take pictures of you as you walked near the Seine, an honest smile on your lips. You didn't hold back from replacing his curls once the wind had disheveled them. You didn't hold back from laying your head on his shoulder as you looked at the magical view.
You hadn't noticed, but every little touch or attention planted seeds of hope in your heart.
As for him, Chan seemed to beam at the returned normalcy of your relationship. He was more touchy than ever, a sparkle illuminating his eyes as he made jokes with the sole purpose of gorging himself on the sight of the adorable crinkles around your eyes. He shivered at the feather-light touch of your fingers on him when you made sure he looked perfect for some pictures he intended to post on Instagram for his dear STAYs. You gave a toothy grin as you pinched his cheeks before stepping away for more pictures. He didn't hesitate before asking a stranger with a broken French if they could snap one of you two. An amused light danced in your eyes, and you took a sharp breath when you felt his hand slide on your hips, bringing you closer to him for the picture. You lifted your eyes for a millisecond, a foreign but gentle expression on your face. He looked at you with the softest, most tender smile, before you gave him one in return, and rested your head and hand on his chest. You could swear you felt the thundering beat of his heart beneath his shirt. Or maybe you were mistaking it for your own, reverberating in your whole body.
"Vous êtes très mignons," complimented the stranger with a kind smile and a subtle wink.
You thanked him with rosy cheeks, not daring to comment. Chan came up behind you, asking what the stranger had said exactly, but you barely registered the words as you looked at the pictures on your phone. They were stunning. The lights, the view, but most strikingly, the way you looked together. Your heart skipped a beat as you swiped to see the picture the man had taken when you weren't posed yet. When you were still looking at Chan with that surprised and delighted expression and he was looking at you like you were the most precious thing on earth. He saw the picture and put his hand on your shoulders.
"They're beautiful," he said in a hushed voice as if the emotion currently gripping you had its claws dug deep in him too.
You looked back at him with a smile, trying to slow the fast pace of your beating heart. Ancient fears tried grabbing at your heart, but you pushed them away, holding on to your promise. He nodded towards the street, encouraging you to keep walking. His hand grabbed yours effortlessly and squeezed once before he started to walk. Soon, the Eiffel Tower appeared, and you couldn't hold a gasp from escaping your lips.
It was beautiful, stark on the starry night sky, illuminated like a beacon in the dark. Chan chuckled at your marvel and looked fondly at you as you ushered him to walk faster.
You settled on a park bench, his arm going around your shoulders as you cuddled into his side.
"This is perfect," you whispered after a moment of silent contemplation.
"It is," he answered, his lips so close that if he moved a little they would connect with your forehead.
"I'm really happy to be here with you. Thank you for everything."
The man's heart tightened at your words. "No, thank you," his words felt choked and you backed away enough to face him. "You are so amazing. You're the best at handling us and you’re you're so organized. I don't know how we would deal without you and I don't mean just at work. You're truly such a special person to us... to me." Stars danced in your eyes as you looked at him, so open, so inviting. "Thank you for being in my life. I don't know what I would do without you." Softly his lips touched your forehead in a tender kiss. You closed your eyes relishing in the warmth they spread on your skin. Never before had he been so honest about his feelings in your regard. The little declaration made your heart beat even faster. Seeds of hope were slowly blossoming into small, delicate flowers. Maybe, just maybe your proximity tonight meant more for him than you imagined.
Your eyes stayed closed even as he pulled away, even as he softly stroked the side of your face with his thumb. You were so scared to open them, terrified to know what would happen, what you would read on his angelic face. He brought you closer, so close you could feel his breath mingling with yours. You waited, incapable of opening your eyes.
"Y/n," he uttered softly. "Please, look at me."
You obeyed, softly batting your eyelashes, and felt electrified as the intensity contained in his eyes struck you. His gaze slowly tumbled to your soft lips, slightly opened, puffing each breath. His eyes came back up a second with a silent question. You knew he would not do anything before you said yes and it made your heart bloom as you nodded imperceptibly. And just like that, he linked his plush lips with yours. It was earth-shattering in a soft and shaking to the core way.
You backed away for a second to catch your breath and this time was the one to lift your hand, softly pulling at his shirt as you kissed him once more. This second kiss was still soft, but so deep, so full of emotions. It made your hands tremble. You moved in tandem, both the only people in the world who knew the rhythm of this foreign dance. The kiss made you feel tingly like nothing else maintained you to the earth except for his hands on your cheek and his lips on yours. It grew, both of you wanting, needing more. Your hands went up to his jaw, softly caressing the soft skin there, the skin you had wished to touch so many times. A low grumble echoed in his chest, the vibration almost making you purr back. You separated softly, slowly, stealing little kisses before resting your foreheads together, catching your breaths. His thumb fell on your bottom lip, softly plucking it apart from the top one. He was enthralled by the shallow breath you exhaled. Slowly, but surely you remembered where you were. You remembered you were sitting on a bench in France, and you realized you had just kissed. Panic slowly spread through your gaze, threatening to overpower the feeling of daze you had been previously bathed in. He noticed and a shadow seemed to pass in his eyes but before you could analyze it or say something he kissed your lips again. You had no idea what that little peck meant, and he didn't seem to know either but still, he smiled.
"You want to go back?" he whispered, his head still pressed to yours. You nodded quickly and took his hand as you walked back, your mind racing even as it clawed to stay in the daze it had been in for the whole night.
He held your hand on the way back until you felt its warmth leave yours to replace a few errant strands of his hair and didn't find it again. You tried not overthinking. He was allowed not to touch you at all times even after you had shared a kiss. And the fact that he had been all over you all night and suddenly wouldn't hold your hand didn't mean anything, right? You tried reasoning with yourself but couldn't deny that the sudden loss of his touch made an insidious cold creep into your bones.
As you approached the hotel and entered the lobby, Chan was so very polite and cordial. He kept his gaze straight forward and gave a polite smile to the few staff you encountered but didn't say a word to you. Long gone was the laid-back and giggly man you had spent the evening with. The ride in the elevator was silent, and not the kind of comfortable one you had experienced so many times. This one was heavy, full of meaning. You could feel regret emanating from his every gesture. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes but you held on, not wanting him to know how much this affected you.
Felix had warned you that Chan did not have the space in his life for a partner. You knew it, but still, you allowed yourself to let down your guard, and enjoy your time with him. What happened tonight could never happen again. The way this sole kiss had made you feel was to be used as a warning. If one night with him, carefree, had made you feel such a way... you had to keep your distance and be careful. If you let this go on, it would destroy you. You knew it now. Doing this tonight was a mistake because you didn't just like him. You were incontestably in love with Christopher Chan Bahng. And he wasn't and couldn't be because of everything he was.
He walked you to your room and stopped in front of the door. With your hand on the handle, you looked back at him, trying and failing to hide the pain in your eyes.
"Y/n, about tonight I-..." he started.
"Don't," you breathed out. "I know Chan. It won't happen again. I know it didn't mean anything." He shuffled in place, not even denying your claim. Your heart crumpled in pieces, nausea seizing you. "Don't worry about it," you finally whispered as you closed the door on him, on the possibility of him and everything he meant to you.
The little light of hope you felt earlier had been brutally put out. Delicate flowers ripped from their soil with an all-encompassing pain.
You got up the next day feeling like you had been ran over by a truck. Usually, you were a fast and heavy sleeper, but insomnia had seized you until the late hours of the night. But concert day would show you no pity. You had a job to do, and so you plastered a smile on your face and focused on the tasks at hand. You concentrated on compartmentalizing and acting like nothing happened, telling the boys about your amazing night, while omitting the kiss. The show went splendidly well, the boys gained many new supporters with this performance it was nothing short of a flying success. You struggled to feel anything as they smiled at you and spoke excitedly on the drive back to the airport. Once on the plane, you watched Chan sit down with a sour feeling in your chest. In the next row, Felix signaled for you to sit next to him but you couldn't. You hadn't told him the truth about your night, you weren't ready to face the possible 'I told you so' or worse, his tender compassion. Spotting an empty seat beside Minho, you stopped in front of him. "Can I sit here?" At his questioning look you allowed him to see an ounce of the sadness you carried. "Please, I just... don't want to be disturbed," you shared in a small voice.
Immediately his eyes took on a protective expression, he nodded and patted the window seat next to him. Relieved to know no one would get past your protector, you allowed sleep to swallow you and your pain, only waking up once you landed in Korea.
Cars sporadically zoomed by, their lights blinding you and making your eyes squeeze in pain, which actually wasn't that bad a thing considering how tired you were. The zaps of light were at least keeping you awake. The intense few days had taken a great toll on everyone, and the 12-hour flight on top did not help. Still, being the best one in shape you volunteered to drive. Chan in the passenger seat silently stared out the window while the boys were piled up in the back, sleeping peacefully.
You rubbed your eyes for the tenth time, hoping to finally get rid of the fatigue weighing on your bones that made your eyelids feel so damn heavy.
"If you're tired, I can drive."
You turned your head to find Chan staring at you. "I'm fine."
"I don't think you are. You have been rubbing your eyes and puffing for 20 minutes now. I got plenty of rest, I can drive the rest of the way."
You tightened your grip on the wheel, "I told you I didn't need you to."
"It's dangerous to drive when you're tired."
"Are you done?!" you lashed out. Turning your head to look at him you swerved on the road. Luckily there hadn't been any other cars, but your heart was beating out of your chest and you suddenly felt wide awake.
Chan stared at you with wide eyes for a second. "Okay, that's it. Pull over."
"No-"
"Y/n. Right now you're putting yourself and my members in danger. I can't allow that."
The sternness of his tone and a look in the mirror at the boys made you pull begrudgingly. You slammed the door and avoided his eyes while you switched sides. He tried to get ahold of you to apologize, but you pulled back as if the contact of his hands on your skin burned you.
"Y/n what's going on?"
"What's going on is that I'm tired. I'm exhausted," you sarcastically chuckled.
He wiped his eyes and sighed. "Listen, I get that but we all are."
You tried to bite your tongue to stop the words from coming out of your mouth but in the end, you couldn't. Maybe it was the extreme fatigue or emotional turmoil you had been going through for the past few weeks but you simply couldn't. You heard yourself speak words you never thought you would. "No. I mean that being in love with you is exhausting."
His arms slackened at his sides as his eyes grew big as saucers.
"You heard me right. I am in love with you. I should have known before, but our night in Paris confirmed that."
"Y/n... I can't give you or anyone anything more, specifically because of that. Being with me is exhausting. I already know that."
Irritation lit a fire in your blood. You were so done with this stupid man and his stupid beliefs that made him act like some fucking martyr, like the center of his soul was the problem while it had never been.
"Can you please stop? I'm tired of hearing you whine about how exhausting you are. No. It's not the actual loving you that's exhausting. You are lovable Chris as much as anyone else and to me even more than others. What's been exhausting is those past few weeks, this night we spent together. It's officially knowing you will never be able to return my feelings but knowing you still acted like you could. Holding my hand, looking at me with that smile. Telling me those nice things. Kissing me like I'm the best thing in your life. It's you playing with me that's killing me."
Tears of rage started rolling down your cheeks and for once you didn't want to keep them in. You wanted him to see how much pain he caused you.
"I never played with you I promise. I really do like you and enjoy being with you. That was never fake."
You let out an icy, short laugh. "And you think that makes it better? That is the definition of playing with someone Chan. A minute ago you told me you couldn't give me anything more. Now you're saying you meant everything. You're admitting to doing all those things even though you knew you never wanted more. And don't try to lie and tell me you were doing this for me or to try and see if you could actually be with me. You only did it for yourself, with your interests in mind. You wanted what I can give you without actually committing."
He dropped his gaze to the floor, unable to keep eye contact with you. He seemed defeated and his silence was nothing short of a confirmation of everything you accused him of. For the first time a word you would have never used in a thousand years to describe him came to mind. You took a step closer, forcing him to look into your eyes.
"I'm pretty sure you enjoy being with me. Everyone wants to be loved, and feel they matter but you act like you don't because you're afraid of what it entails. You're a coward," you seethed. "You build this wall around you, pretending you don't want anyone to love you the way you love them because you want to protect them, because you are just so noble and kind." You paused and scoffed, allowing time for your words to sink in. "But the truth is you're just scared. You're scared shitless Christopher. Scared not to be enough. Scared to be rejected. Scared to experience pain and loss. Everyone, and I do mean EVERYONE is scared of those things. The difference is we still try."
You took another step, your hands floating up to his face. "I know it means more to love you than it would mean to experience pain and fear." His face contorted as he tried to keep in tears. Your rage softened for a second and you rested your hand on his broad chest. Immediately his hand covered up yours. He took a breath, on the edge of saying something but you wouldn't allow it.
"At least that's what I used to believe." You slipped your hands from his and backed away. "I don't think I can anymore. Not when I have been shown so clearly that my feelings are not respected and understood for what they truly are. I love you, Chris. All I want to do is support and be there for you. I thought you just needed me to prove the depth of my love and I did so for the past year. I thought it would reassure you and kill that fear in your heart. I always thought you were such a kind and loving soul, that you just needed to see I really did love you for all you are. Now I'm starting to think maybe you are as emotionless as you try to make it seem to everyone." His brows furrowed at the accusation. "And you know what? I could even forgive that. I could forgive you if this was how you felt and you were honest with me about it. But no. You keep acting like you can one day return my feelings. You keep stringing me along." Your voice broke on the last words. It was hard to admit the truth. He had broken you in ways you could never explain. You were vulnerable, pathetically screaming at him from the side of the road. But you wouldn't stop. Now that you allowed yourself to be honest, words kept tumbling out of your mouth uncontrollably. You felt a rush to your head, you felt dizzy, feverish. "And you know what's the worst about it? I know about all of this and still, I can't even get rid of those stupid feelings. I wish I could trust myself not to fall further in love with you but I can't. Every time I see you it all comes back. I can't forget your stupid smile and your stupid dimples and your stupid hugs and that stupid kiss we shared."
A deep breath escaped your tired body. "I wish I hated you."
Those tiny, hushed-out words felt like a direct punch to the gut. Physically incapable of speaking, your words echoed in his head eclipsing any other thoughts.
You drew a painful breath. It was over. You said what needed to be said. And even if it did feel good in the moment, you were left an empty shell. Silently, you both got back in the car. Chan took your place in the driver seat while you sat with your hood pulled up facing the window. In the back, seven boys acted as if they were still asleep even when they had heard everything.
🏷️ list: @httpdwaekki @omgsecretsecret @lovesunshinefelix @luvstaymin @jupire @nebugalaxy @drewsandsebastianswife @whyyougottadothatbro @parisanmorovati @greyyeti @chanssmiles @wildtokay @my-neurodivergent-world @xotinytinaxo @ramadiiiisme @potentialgay
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dreamerinthemoonlight ¡ 2 months ago
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Genshin Guys as Boyfriends: Part 2 (Tartaglia, Kinich, Neuvillette)
It's been so long since I did ones for Kaeya, Xiao, and Thoma. Even though they were only reposted at the beginning of November, it's been ages since I wrote them
CW: None (seriously just fluff)
Tartaglia x gn!reader; Kinich x gn!reader; Neuvillette x gn!reader;
REQUESTS and ASKS are OPEN
Tartaglia
Same thing I said for Kaeya goes for Tartaglia in this one. He definitely has a teasing streak, but he'd be a really, really solid boyfriend
I mean, look how he treats his family. Dating him puts you pretty far up the list of people he values most
Nah, Tartaglia spoils the shit out of you. Fancy dates, gifts (he doesn't hesitate to use fatui funds to get you souvenirs during his missions), the works. He's away so much that he doesn't want you to forget that he really does love you
And when he's around you, expect him to be pretty clingy. He's always holding your hands or wrapping his arm around your waist, or just laying in bed spooning.
He won't say as much, but your presence is grounds him. After spending all his time fighting and threatening people, your company reminds him of what it's like to be a normal human
Kinich
Honestly, I think Kinich has a really hard time dating you at first
this kind of close relationship isn't something he's ever known, especially when you start telling him that shit you do doesn't have a price tag
it's a point of conflict, but he does start to get used to it, start to trust that his company is enough for you
That being said he's always trying to do stuff for you. Definitely an acts of service kinda guy. To the point you start to wonder if you owe him. it's at that point he realizes what you've been trying to tell him, that a relationship, by nature is one of give and take and shit like "prices" don't really factor in
after that things are much smoother
I think his favorite activities with you are stuff that doesn't involve a lot of other people. Cuddling a bit maybe, wandering around in the wilderness, I think he loves showing you all the little stuff he's learned over the years. Rather than going to fancy dinners he'd rather stay at home and cook with you
He's never very verbal about his affection, but one day he just comes up behind you and wraps you in a hug and you just feel really, really lucky because that kind of affection isn't natural to him
Also, Ajaw learns really quickly that being mean to you is a one way trip to time out
Neuvillette
Calm, stable, loving Neuvie. I love him so much
I think of the three, Neuvie is the most stable. Tartaglia is a battle-hungry maniac (and I love him for it) and Kinich is traumatized to no end. Neuvillette is just a workaholic
But even if he's a workaholic, I don't see him saying no if you want to sit and read on a couch while he does paperwork
He'd be so affectionate. Kisses to the backs of your knuckles, soft touches to your hair
In public he's not a fan of excessive PDA, though he will hold your hand, but in private he's really, really touchy. Loves to lay his head on your lap (of have you lay your head in his, he doesn't really care). Tons of cuddling and just sweet little touches
Also, hair brushing. I think in his case that's a whole ass love language. You could spend hours brushing his hair, gently combing out every tangle. And then he does the same for you, or if you don't have much hair, he still spends a lot of time with his fingers in it.
I guess, a good way to put it is Neuvie is all about that quiet, soft intimacy
He's not possessive at all and always encouraging (of everything except crime, he'd rather not see you in the defendant's box) and just ooooooo. He's just the perfect boyfriend
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jaeyunluvbot ¡ 2 months ago
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sad beautiful tragic
Tumblr media
genre/tags 𝟅𝟈 angst, lovers to exes, joshua hong x reader, fiance!joshua x reader
word count 𝟅𝟈 4.2k
part two
NOT PROOFREAD
⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹
It’s your freshman year of college. You’d taken the risk and moved across the country to go to UCLA. It was your first exam season and you were sorely regretting this choice, wishing you had your family and friends to lean on.
The library is dead silent except for the occasional rustle of pages and the distant hum of the air conditioner. Your head hurts from staring at your statistics textbook for too long, the numbers blurring together like they’re mocking you. You press your palms into your forehead, trying to focus, but it’s useless.
You’re on the verge of packing up and leaving when a voice interrupts your spiral.
“Mind if I sit here?”
You glance up, your eyes landing on a boy holding a tray with two coffees. He’s tall, with a warm smile and a slightly oversized UCLA hoodie that makes him look impossibly soft.
You nod, gesturing to the seat across from you. “Go ahead.”
As he sits down, he slides one of the cups toward you. “You look like you need this more than I do.”
You blink, taken aback. “What—how did you know I needed caffeine?”
He chuckles, the sound light and easy. “You’ve been glaring at that textbook for like ten minutes.”
You laugh despite yourself, the tension in your chest loosening. “Fair point. Thanks... I guess I owe you one now.”
“Nah,” he says, leaning back in his chair. “Think of it as my good deed for the day. I’m Joshua, by the way.”
“Y/N,” you reply, taking a cautious sip of the coffee. It’s just the way you like it—strong but not bitter. “This might actually save my grade.”
“Glad to be of service,” he says with a grin.
For the next hour, you pretend to study, but really, you’re watching him out of the corner of your eye. He’s quiet but not shy, the kind of person who makes you feel at ease without even trying. By the time you pack up your things to leave, you realize you don’t feel so alone anymore.
⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹
Life after college had been better than you'd ever imagined. When you moved to California for college, you’d never expected to find more than just a degree. Joshua had been the anchor in a world that felt so foreign—your solace when homesickness hit you hard. By the time graduation rolled around, the two of you were inseparable.
Your careers had fallen into place perfectly. You landed a job in New York, but when Joshua asked if you’d stay in California with him, you didn’t hesitate. You turned down the offer, found a great position in LA, and never looked back. Being close to him felt worth every sacrifice.
The proposal had been perfect in its simplicity. One quiet evening in your shared apartment, he’d set the table with your favorite takeout, candles flickering between cartons of food. You’d laughed when he nervously fumbled with the ring box but cried when he asked, “Will you marry me?” The answer had been a resounding yes.
At first, Joshua was just as excited as you were. He’d scroll through the boards with you, offering opinions on everything from table settings to wedding bands. “Simple and elegant,” he’d said, his voice laced with warmth as he picked out a gold band that matched yours. He’d even gotten himself a matching engagement ring, claiming he wanted everyone to know he was spoken for.
But then work started picking up for him.
It was little things at first—missing a cake tasting or zoning out during a discussion about the guest list. “Whatever you think is best, babe,” he’d say with a tired smile. At first, you brushed it off. He was busy, and you didn’t want to add to his stress.
Then, he missed your appointment with the wedding planner. It was supposed to be a big one, the meeting where you’d decide on the venue. You’d picked out three options together, but sitting across from the planner with an empty chair beside you made your stomach twist uncomfortably.
You called him after the meeting. He answered on the third ring, his voice apologetic but distant. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. The meeting at work ran over, and I couldn’t get away. Did you pick something?”
You paused, the lump in your throat growing. “Yeah. I went with the vineyard. It felt right.”
“That sounds perfect,” he said quickly, relief evident in his tone. “I trust your judgment.”
You tried to smile, but it felt forced.
⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹
By the time he missed the florist appointment a week later, it wasn’t a surprise. “Sorry, babe. Just go with whatever you like,” he said when you called him, his voice rushed. “I know you’ll make it beautiful.”
You hung up feeling a mix of frustration and sadness. It wasn’t just the missed appointments. It was the way he seemed to disengage completely, like the wedding was your project and not something you were supposed to be building together.
He still wore his ring, still kissed you goodnight and said, “Love you.” But his words felt like a habit, something automatic and unthinking. You told yourself he was just busy, that once the stress of work eased up, things would go back to the way they were.
But deep down, you couldn’t ignore the growing ache in your chest.
The phone feels heavy in your hand as you sit cross-legged on the couch, staring at the blank TV screen. Joshua isn’t home yet—another late night at the office, or so he says. You’ve been scrolling aimlessly through your wedding Pinterest board, but even the dreamy photos of lace gowns and candlelit venues can’t shake the dull ache in your chest.
When the call connects, your mom’s warm voice cuts through the silence. “Sweetheart, how’s my favorite daughter?”
You manage a smile, even though she can’t see it. “Hi, Mom. I’m... okay.”
“Just okay?” she asks, a hint of concern in her voice.
You hesitate, unsure how much to say. “It’s just... I don’t know. I think I’m feeling a little lonely.”
“Lonely? What about Joshua? You two are practically glued together.”
Your throat tightens at the mention of his name. “He’s been so busy with work lately. And I don’t know, Mom, it’s like... I can’t really talk to him about how I’m feeling. I don’t want to add to his stress.”
“Sweetheart, you can always talk to me,” she says gently.
“I know.” You pause, picking at a thread on the couch cushion. “It’s just hard sometimes. All my friends here are his friends, you know? I can’t exactly call them and say, ‘Hey, I think Joshua’s pulling away from me.’”
There’s a soft sigh on the other end of the line. “Oh, honey. I wish I were closer. Are you sure everything’s okay between you two?”
“I don’t know,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “He’s... different. He’s not excited about the wedding anymore. He misses every appointment, and when I try to talk about it, he just says to do whatever I want. Like it doesn’t even matter to him.”
Your mom’s voice softens even more. “Sweetheart, planning a wedding is stressful for anyone, but it sounds like you’re taking on all the weight by yourself. That’s not fair.”
Tears sting your eyes as you blink rapidly, trying to keep them from falling. “I just miss you, Mom. I wish you were here.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” she says, her voice thick with emotion. “I’ll come see you next month, okay? We’ll spend some time together, just us girls. Sit tight until then.”
“Okay,” you murmur, even though next month feels like a lifetime away.
After you hang up, the apartment feels even quieter than before. You glance at the dining table, still set with the meal you’d made hours ago, untouched. The ache in your chest feels heavier now, pressing down until it’s hard to breathe.
You wonder, not for the first time, if this is what homesickness feels like—not just for a place, but for a version of your life that feels like it’s slipping away.
⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹
“You really need to decide on your groomsmen soon, Josh,” you say, your voice soft but edged with the faintest hint of impatience. “I can’t finalize the bridesmaids until I know how many you’re having.”
It’s late, and he’s seated at the kitchen counter, scrolling through his phone while you try to bring up yet another wedding detail. His hair is tousled from work, and he looks tired, but you push forward. You’ve been asking him about this for weeks now.
He looks up briefly, his expression unreadable. “I know, Y/N. I’ll get to it, I promise.”
You pause, trying to keep your frustration in check. “It’s been two months, Josh. You haven’t even mentioned it to anyone yet.”
“I’ve just been busy,” he says with a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. “But I’ll figure it out soon. Don’t worry.”
“Okay,” you say, forcing a smile. “But you really need to. It’s not just about the numbers—it’s about including people who are important to you.”
He nods distractedly, his eyes already back on his phone.
That night, as you lie awake in bed, you replay the conversation over and over. It’s such a small thing—picking groomsmen. It shouldn’t feel like such a big deal, but somehow, it does.
It’s not the first time he’s brushed off something wedding-related. It’s not the first time he’s promised to “get to it.” And it’s certainly not the first time you’ve felt like you’re the only one putting real effort into planning the day that’s supposed to celebrate both of you.
⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹
By the time another week rolls around, you’re still waiting. Another week of him saying, “I’ve been thinking about it,” without any actual decisions. Another week of you wondering if this is what the rest of your life is going to look like—waiting for Joshua to care about something as much as you do.
When you ask him again, gently but firmly, his response is the same. “I’ll get to it.”
But he doesn’t.
And as you sit at the dining table that night, staring at your wedding planner and a half-empty glass of wine, it hits you like a punch to the gut: he’s not avoiding the groomsmen because he’s busy. He’s avoiding it because it doesn’t matter to him.
Because maybe you don’t matter to him—not the way you used to.
The thought sends a chill down your spine. You push the wedding planner aside, get up, and walk to the bathroom. His ring is still on the counter, where it’s been more and more lately. You stare at it, the dull ache in your chest flaring into something sharper.
“Oh,” you whisper to yourself, the word heavy with realization.
You leave the ring where it is and head to bed, the sheets cold and uninviting. For the first time, you don’t wait up for him.
⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹
The next morning feels heavy before it even starts. You wake up to an empty bed again, the sheets on his side rumpled but cold. You find him in the kitchen, sipping coffee and scrolling through emails on his phone, still wearing the same distracted expression you’ve come to know all too well.
“Hey,” you say softly as you pour yourself a cup. “We need to figure out the wedding party today. We’ve been putting it off too long.”
Joshua glances up, his brow furrowing. “I know. Let’s sit down after breakfast and go through it.”
You nod, hopeful for a moment. Maybe today will be different.
But before you can even finish your coffee, his phone buzzes on the counter. He picks it up, and you watch as his expression shifts from tired to tense.
“It’s my secretary,” he mutters, holding up a hand as he answers.
“Mr. Hong,” her voice is clear even from where you sit, “I’m so sorry to bother you on a Saturday, but the investors are furious about the delay. They’re demanding an emergency meeting.”
Joshua runs a hand through his hair, already moving toward the bedroom to grab his bag. “I’ll be there in thirty minutes. Thanks for letting me know.”
When he returns, he’s tucking his phone into his pocket and slipping on his shoes. “I’m so sorry, babe,” he says, leaning down to kiss the top of your head. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
You look up at him, frustration and sadness bubbling beneath the surface. “We were supposed to figure out the wedding party today, Josh.”
“I know,” he says, his voice rushed. “We’ll do it tomorrow. I promise.”
You glance at the counter as he heads for the door, and your stomach sinks. His ring is still there, sitting carelessly next to the fruit bowl.
The door closes behind him, and the apartment falls into silence.
You sit there for a long time, staring at the spot where his ring rests. Then, slowly, you slip your own ring off your finger. The weight of it has felt heavier these past few weeks, more a reminder of what’s slipping away than what’s supposed to be.
You carry it to your bedroom and place it gently in the jewelry box on your dresser, nestled between a pair of earrings your mom gave you and an old bracelet from college. It doesn’t feel right, taking it off—but it doesn’t feel wrong, either.
That night, you go to bed alone again, the silence in the apartment pressing down on you. You wonder, as you lie there staring at the ceiling, how many more nights will feel like this.
And for the first time, you don’t cry. You’re too tired to cry anymore.
⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹
The next evening, Joshua finally comes home. It’s later than usual, but you’re still awake, sitting on the couch with your wedding planner open in front of you. You’re not really reading it, though. Instead, you’ve been staring at the untouched coffee cup you poured for him hours ago, now cold.
“Hey,” he says softly as he steps inside, setting his bag by the door. He glances at you, and his brow furrows slightly. “You’re still up?”
“Yeah,” you say, keeping your voice steady. “We need to talk.”
He hesitates for a moment, then nods. “Okay. Let me just—”
“Now, Josh,” you interrupt, standing and closing the planner with a soft thud.
He blinks at the sharpness in your tone but joins you in the living room. You sit on the edge of the couch, hands clasped tightly together, while he sinks into the armchair across from you.
For a moment, neither of you speaks. The tension in the room is palpable, stretching like a rubber band about to snap.
“Are you having an affair?” The words leave your mouth before you can second-guess them.
His eyes widen in shock, and his posture stiffens. “What? No! Y/N, how could you even think that?”
“Because you’ve been pulling away from me for months,” you say, your voice cracking despite your best efforts to keep it even. “You miss every appointment, you don’t care about the wedding, and you keep leaving your ring on the counter like it doesn’t mean anything to you.”
Joshua’s face falls, and he runs a hand through his hair. “Y/N, I swear, it’s not that. Work has just been—”
“Don’t,” you say, cutting him off. “Don’t blame this on work. Be honest with me, Joshua. Do you even want this anymore?”
His silence is deafening.
“I—” he starts, then stops, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I don’t know.”
You feel like the air has been knocked out of your lungs. “You don’t know?”
“We’re so young, Y/N,” he says finally, his voice quiet but firm. “I love you, I do, but... I don’t know if I’m ready for this. For marriage. For forever.”
You stare at him, the weight of his words sinking in like stones in your chest. “You don’t feel it anymore,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.
He looks up at you, guilt written all over his face. "I don’t know what I feel anymore."
The tears sting, but you refuse to let them fall. "I stayed here for you, Josh," you say, the words breaking free before you can stop them. "I left everything—my family, my friends, my life—just to be with you. And now you’re telling me you don’t even want this anymore?"
Joshua’s expression falters. He opens his mouth, but no words come out. His silence cuts deeper than any answer could.
“Then let’s break up,” you say firmly, the words tasting bitter on your tongue.
“Y/N, I—”
“No,” you say, standing up. "If you don’t want this, then we’re done. I can’t keep fighting for both of us."
He opens his mouth again to speak, but the words don’t come. He just nods, looking down at his hands.
“I’ll move out,” he says after a long pause.
“We’ll talk about it tomorrow,” you reply, your voice hollow, as if you’re already a stranger to him.
That night, he sleeps on the couch, and you lie in bed alone, staring at the ceiling, feeling the space between you grow wider by the second. The silence in your apartment is suffocating, and for the first time since you moved to California, you feel truly and deeply alone.
⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹
The next morning, Joshua leaves for work as usual. His footsteps fade down the hallway, and the door clicks shut behind him. The apartment feels cold without his presence, but the tension, the weight of everything that’s happened, keeps you from feeling anything else.
You take a deep breath, steadying yourself, and begin packing your things. You leave behind the little things—the pictures, the mementos from your time together that once meant so much. The engagement ring stays on the counter where he left it the night before, untouched. You gather your essentials—clothes, toiletries, a few items that remind you of who you were before all of this. You’re doing this for you.
As you pack, the tears come, and you can’t hold them back. The weight of it all—the loneliness, the heartbreak, the way he’d stopped caring—finally crashes over you. You grab your phone and dial your mom’s number.
“Mom,” you choke out, barely able to speak through the sobs. "I—I can't... I can't do this anymore. I... I’m so lost."
You hear her soothing voice on the other end, muffled but full of warmth and concern. "Sweetheart, what happened? Where are you?"
“I—I'm in California, but I don’t want to be here anymore. I can’t do this alone. I... I left. I left him. I don't know what to do, mom."
Her voice softens, and you hear her take a deep breath. "Don't worry. You don't have to do it alone. I’ll book your tickets, I’ll get you home, okay?"
The relief that floods through you is overwhelming, but it doesn't stop the tears. Your mom insists on getting the earliest flight available, even going the extra mile to make sure you’re on the next plane out.
You hang up with her, still a mess, but knowing that, at least for now, you won’t be alone. You finish packing quickly, making sure to leave everything behind except what’s truly necessary. You wipe your eyes, trying to pull yourself together.
⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹
By the time you finish, it’s still a few hours before Joshua will come home. You take one last look around the apartment—the place that was once filled with shared moments, warmth, and love. It now feels like a shell of something that used to be, cold and unforgiving. You make sure your essentials are packed, then head out the door, locking it behind you.
When Joshua comes home later that evening, he expects to find you resting, taking the nap you often took after a long day at work. He quietly enters the apartment, shedding his coat and bag, and makes his way to your shared bedroom. He pauses at the doorway, frowning as he notices the emptiness of the room.
There’s no sound of you resting, no gentle hum of your music. The bed is neatly made. A sharp unease twists in his stomach.
He turns toward the dresser, his eyes catching something familiar—something that doesn’t belong there.
It’s the love letter he wrote you years ago, the one you’d always kept in your wallet. The edges are frayed now from years of being carried close to your heart. It’s placed on top of the dresser, in the spot where you used to keep it safe, along with the ring he’d given you.
He picks it up, his hands trembling slightly, and unfolds the letter. The words are still familiar, and yet, they now feel like they were written by someone else.
His eyes scan over the message, the sincerity in his writing that once made you feel loved, now leaving him cold. He puts the letter back down slowly, the full weight of the situation settling in.
Joshua’s gaze moves to the counter, where the engagement ring lies, cold and unclaimed. The reality of it all hits him like a brick wall. You’re gone.
The apartment feels like a vacuum now, empty and silent. His throat tightens, but no words come. All the things left unsaid, all the moments missed, hang heavily in the air around him.
⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹
The plane ride feels like an eternity. You’re sitting by the window, watching the clouds drift by, but your mind is a whirlwind of thoughts, doubts, and emotions that you can’t escape. It’s hard to breathe, to focus on anything other than the overwhelming emptiness that seems to have settled inside you.
Your phone buzzes constantly with messages, and you can’t help but check them. It’s Joshua.
Joshua: Where are you? Please, answer me. We need to talk.Joshua: Y/N, I’m sorry. Please come home. I can’t lose you.Joshua: I was wrong. I didn’t mean for it to end like this. Where are you?
Each message hits you like a punch to the stomach, but you know you can’t respond in the way he wants. You’ve made your decision, and no amount of begging can change the way you feel.
You almost find it funny, how little his words mean to you now that you had left.
You tap out a response, slow and deliberate, your hands trembling slightly as you type.
Y/N: I had to go. I’m sorry, Joshua. I wish you well. It's for the best.
You hit send and put the phone down, hoping he’ll respect your silence. The flight attendants come by, offering you a drink, but you don’t take it. You just keep your gaze fixed outside, the horizon blurring as you fight to keep it together.
⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹
By the time you land and step off the plane, you can feel the weight of everything pressing down on you. You’re exhausted, emotionally drained, but there’s one thing you’re certain of: you made the right choice.
Your mom is waiting for you at the airport, her face full of worry and warmth. As soon as she sees you, she pulls you into a tight hug, and you collapse against her, tears streaming down your face. She doesn’t ask any questions. She just holds you, murmuring soft reassurances as she strokes your hair.
“I’m here, sweetheart. You’re home now. I’m here,” she whispers, and somehow, it makes everything feel a little less heavy.
The drive back to the house is quiet, the only sound being the hum of the tires on the road. You try to collect yourself, but the emotions keep rushing back, overwhelming you in waves. You know you’ll have to explain everything, but for now, all you want is to be wrapped in the comfort of your mom’s arms.
Once you’re home, she takes you straight to the living room and sits you down on the couch, making you a cup of tea. “Tell me what happened,” she says gently, her voice soft but insistent. “I’m listening.”
You take a deep breath, recounting everything—from moving to California, to the engagement, the wedding planning, and the slow unraveling of everything. You tell her about how Joshua had been pulling away, about how you tried to wait for him, tried to understand. You tell her about the ring left on the counter, the distance, the fighting, and finally, the breakdown of your relationship.
Your voice cracks as you speak, and she pulls you closer, wrapping an arm around you. “Oh, baby,” she murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I’m so sorry. I know this isn’t easy. But you did the right thing. You deserve someone who’s all in, who’s going to love you fully, just like you deserve.”
You nod, wiping your eyes. You’re still so raw, but her words give you the strength to keep going.
As the night wears on, she handles everything for you. She cancels the wedding bookings—everything that had been set up for the wedding is erased. The vendors are contacted, the plans are halted, and you don’t have to worry about any of it. Your mom handles it all, taking the burden from your shoulders as you sit there, just trying to breathe.
When she finally gets off the phone with the last vendor, she sits next to you again, her hand resting on yours. “You’ll heal, sweetheart. And when you’re ready, we’ll figure it all out. But for now, just rest. You’re safe here.”
You close your eyes, resting your head on her shoulder, feeling the weight in your chest finally start to ease, if only a little. The pain is still there, but at least for tonight, you’re home.
⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹
author's note 𝟅𝟈 lowkey wanna start a taylor swift songfic thing. i'm obsessed with this song so yk i had to write a fic based on it!
masterlist.
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prettyboykatsuki ¡ 5 months ago
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fang i need 119 with yuuta so bad i think my world will collapse if i dont get it
✮  119 + yuuta okkotsu | “do you think of me when you touch yourself?”
✮ tags ; fem!reader (no gendered language. reader is wearing a skirt + blouse and has boobs), femdom, dirty talk, boss yuuta x subordinate reader, some alcohol, premature ejaculation yippeee.
✮ a/n ; don't even rmb what prompt list this is from but here. do not know if this is what u mean anon but this is what i got for u.
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Yuuta is not very subtle when leers at you.
You try not to make him anymore self-conscious than need be. He's your superior for one, and for the most part - he's mature, empathetic, and calm. You're fond of him both in general but also as your boss and appeciate his competency when the rest of your team is making your head spin. You'd hate for anyone else to take his place.
He's got a knack for keeping things in order when they're about ready to fall apart.
And he's nice - well loved by women in the office for being handsome and kind and hated by men for being popular with them.
You don't know when it is, exactly, that he starts looking at you in that way. You only know that you don't especially mind.
Yuuta has little tells when he's staring at you during work.
The soft jut of his lips, the mild nerves of his smile, the way his eyes don't stay in the same place when you talk or wear something with the slightest bit of skin. It's weird. Before you noticed this about Yuuta, you never saw him in any sort of way.
He's a nice guy and he's a good boss, but you're not one to crush easily. You like Yuuta as is, and have never considered complicating that on the whims of things like attraction or a passing thought. You don't particularly need to get laid nor are you starving for that sort of attention.
Before you notice, you never have anything but work appropriate thoughts. But after you notice, you think that you really, really want to bully him about it.
When the opportunity presents itself to do that, you do - even though it is a bad idea.
Your boss is pretty cute when he's tipsy. He's also, maybe predictably, easy. It didn't take any amount of pushing to get him to bring you home. One pouty word of concern about going home so late and a little pushing up against his arm and he practically collapses under the pressure. The fact he let you cling to his arm and rub up on him the entire car ride makes you think he's probably letting you do this for one reason or another.
So, it's easy to convince him to take you home. Just like it's easy to convince him to take you inside, to help you on the couch, to get you water, to stay a while or maybe stay the night since the last train is about to go anyway.
This is how you get Yuuta on your couch with his pants unzipped.
"Yuuta-san," Your voice is sing-songy. Normally, you're a touch more careful with this kind of thing but you're not sober enough to bother with it as you slide up next to him. He's flushed pink, wide-eyed. "You look nervous."
"W-we shouldn't," He swallows and looks over at you where you're pressed against his side. Your blouse is unbuttoned, nothing but your pencil "I shouldn't've—"
"Oh, don't be like that. You've been giving me looks for a while now, right? Did you think I didn't notice?"
He looks like a deer caught in headlights. How cute. "I'm very sorry."
"It's okay," You nuzzle up to him softly and he does not bother pushing you away even slightly. "I'm saying I don't mind it. But a little won't hurt right?"
He's stiff as you scoot in as close to him as you can, reaching you over to the front of his slacks. His hard-on, half-mast, betrays his sense of hesitance. You watch as he drops his head back, palm cupping the hard outline with amusement. You lean, lips close to his ear.
"Can't go home like this, Yuuta-san. I'll help you if you say please, okay?"
He looks at you from the corner of his eyes before shutting them. "Please..."
You grin a little. "Good boy."
He lets out a pathetic little whimper that makes the corners of your mouth twitch. Wordlessly, undo the zipper of his slacks - reaching your hand into his waist band and sliding it over his cock. It's hard now, twitching under your touch. Yuuta is sensitive. You're sticking so close to his side you can feel the rise and fall of his chest, the way he's holding it all in.
You pull his length out slowly, spitting into your palm before wrapping your hand around his shaft. His cock is long and pretty. The tip of it is already drooling like you've been touching him for hours, ruddy with need. You stroke him in your hands, feeling for all the veins under his shaft. Holding it and seeing the length and weight. You crass him like that slowly, cupping his balls lightly before jerking him off again.
All of the touch leaves Yuuta gasping. He tries his best not to make any noise, but his voice comes out in a whine anyway. Usually such a gentle, kind of voice - broken and throaty as his dick twitches and leaks helplessly in your hand.
"Yuuta-san, be honest." You hum curiously. "Do you think of me when you touch yourself?"
He makes shameful face, closing his eyes even tighter. "Yes. I'm sorry,"
"Oh, you said it so easily," You reply, amused. "Pervert."
"I'm sorry, I'm really sorry - I won't do it again,"
"Instead of touching yourself, isn't this better? Don't you think my pussy will feel good around your cock, Yuuta-san? You can peep as much as you like but that means this is mine for the time being, okay?"
You're barely stroking him hard when you feel him twitch suddenly. Glancing down, you watch as balls tighten - expose stomach flexing it's muscles as Yuuta lets out a loud choked moan. You feel him in your palms - hard, hot cock trembling before it shoots out a thick load of cum into your fingers.
Your eyes widen in mild surprised as you watch him squirm, chasing the high with his hips - aimlessly fucking into the little hole made by your hand. He can't stop cumming. It's drenching your fingers, making them sticky as you stroke him through it.
He finishes with his chest heaving, still cumming in little spurts. You can't help but giggle at how whiny he is.
"Didn't think you were such a quick shot, Yuuta-san." Before he can respond, you bring your fingers up to your mouth and lick the cum off. "Not bad."
He stares at you jaw dropped, looking so embarrassed he could die. You think he looks a little cute like that.
"Oh, it's already up again," You smile, watching him go half hard so quickly. His blush deepens. "Since you were honest, guess I should let you fuck me forreal."
He looks at you with wide, wet eyes and pouty lips. Yes, you know the look well by now.
He takes a deep breath and stares at you longingly.
"...Please."
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sepherinaspoppies ¡ 4 months ago
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New Girl (Modern! Aegon x Aemond x Roommate! Reader)
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warnings: voyeurism, threesome, modern incest, blowjob, and many more when I release it lol.
Summary: To save money, you decide to move in with two complete strange guys from a Facebook ad. Unknowingly, one of them is a very well known pornstar and his younger brother, an ​​erotic audiobook narrator from one of your favorite smutty books. What happens when you accidentally find out their hidden– shared secret?
Sneak Peek!
You knew it was wrong, very wrong for you to click on something so private. If the situation was reversed, and Aegon had borrowed your laptop, you wouldn’t want him to deep dive into your personal files. Not that there was anything lewd in your laptop, maybe one picture of yourself in your bikini when you first visited the Dornish beaches, but that was it. 
But what was in front of you, called you out like a moth to a flame. 
So you silently said to yourself: ‘fuck it’– and clicked on the little blue folder. Instantly so, your jaw cast open and your eyes almost bulged out of your eye sockets at what you saw. A list of multiple pornographic videos of Aegon splayed across the screen. You knew he was a pornstar, and his videos were all over the internet; but why did he have them saved to his laptop? 
Perhaps as backup? 
However, a hard drive was a better option to save his work.
You randomly clicked on one video before you made sure to lower the volume and the brightness of the screen. That’s when you saw a close up of Aegon and his curved–hard dick, you assumed he was adjusting the lens and you were right as he walked out of frame, revealing a black haired woman on her knees with another guy’s dick in her mouth. 
Oh Seven Hells. This was a threesome! 
But who was the other guy? You could only see from his chest down, his face out of frame. Though, he looked very well endowed as the woman sucked less than half of his length down her throat. 
“Take more of his cock, darling. There’s plenty of room down your pretty throat to fit ten inches.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck! 
You watched amazed as the woman seemed to comply with Aegon's orders and took the guy’s dick further down her throat, slowly and vehemently. The guy cradled the back of her head, fucking her at a languid pace until that pace began quickening ardently and you could hear the woman’s cries and gags as she struggled to take all of him. 
This continued for a few more minutes until the guy tugged her head away from his dick, giving her no time to relax her rapid breathing, and between him and Aegon they positioned her into all fours. 
Aegon thrusted into her without any warning or hesitation, bestowing many harsh slaps to her ass that even you could see his hand prints from the other end of the screen. 
The mysterious guy crawled in front of her, his dick still very hard as he pointed his swollen, red tip to the bottom of her lip, smearing what looked to be pre-cum. For the first time, you heard the guy moan, and you swore you recognized those moans from somewhere. 
You looked closely at the screen, at the guy; until you made out a dragon tattoo sketched on the guy’s left thigh. You knew that tattoo all too well. And who that tattoo belonged to. 
Aemond fucking Targaryen.
-----
this is for kinktober and might be more than one part!
let me know if y'all wanna be tagged in the full fic by commenting down below :))))
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leighsartworks216 ¡ 4 months ago
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My Love Mine All Mine
Zayne x gn!Reader
The day I stop addressing my traumas through silly little fics is the day I lose all whimsy. Also, fuck Astra. I fist fought him behind the Lowe's just so Zayne could say "I love you" because it's what he deserves!!
Title named after "My Love Mine All Mine" by Mitski
Warnings: kissing, declarations of love, references to past mental/emotional abuse, communication, blushing
Word Count: 978
Main Masterlist
Love and Deepspace Masterlist
AO3
Tag List Form
“I love you.”
You blink dumbly at Zayne’s blushing face. He’s doing his best not to turn his head away. Distracting himself by looking at your cheek cradled in his hand.
He gathered up all this effort, just to tell you he loves you. Your heart stutters in your chest, for more reasons than just his confession.
“I… I’m sorry,” you whisper out. He blinks at you as you scoot away from him, retracting his hand quickly.
He frowns. “Are you alright? Did I hurt you?” He subtly closes his hand in his lap, feeling for some hint of ice that he may not have noticed. But all he feels is his palm, as warm and smooth as ever.
You shake your head. God, why this? Why right now? Why couldn’t you have worked up the courage to mention it sooner? This had to be karma nipping it in the bud for you. You groan, hiding your face in your hands. Your cheeks burn with embarrassment.
“No, no, I’m okay, Zayne. It’s-” You sigh. That beautiful blushing face of his put to waste because of your stupid hang up. “It’s not you, I swear. And it’s not…” It hurts trying to admit this to him in such a roundabout way.
“Talk to me,” he implores you. He hesitates before reaching out to gently pull your hands from your face. “It’s not…?”
You hold his hands, searching for solace in the care they give to you. The first time you held his hand, you were surprised by how soft they were. The only rough spots were small calluses built up over time from using a pen and a scalpel, and the scars on the back. You messily trace them, mindlessly seeking out every imperfection.
“It’s not… unrequited.”
He wishes you’d look him in the eyes. “But?”
You squeeze his hands tighter.
“You don’t have to tell me right now if you don’t want to.”
“No, I- You should know. I kept meaning to tell you, but every time we get together, I just get so swept up in everything.” You intertwine your fingers with one of his hands and bring his knuckles up to your lips.
It should be so easy to spill your guts out to him, but the blade cutting open your abdomen still hurts the same, regardless of who you do it for.
It takes you a few false starts, before you’re finally able to piece together what you want to say. “I have a hard time saying… saying it back. No matter who it is, I just… can’t. My ex would force me to say it back. Every night. Whenever they wanted it. So now trying to say it, even if I really, really mean it and really, really want to… it feels like I’m being forced to all over again.”
Zayne sighs softly. He gently pries his hand from yours and cups your cheek, guiding your face to finally look at him. His eyes are so soft. Green and hazel irises full of warmth and understanding. “Thank you for telling me.” His face turns serious, but not angry. Never angry, not for something like this. “Listen to me: I will never force you to say it back. We can find other ways to communicate it to each other.”
You let yourself relax. He’s not mad. He’s not going to demand the words from you. He’s not your ex. He’s your boyfriend. Your incredible boyfriend.
You lean your face into his palm. He smiles softly and happily accepts your trust.
“Like what?” you ask.
“Well, if speaking it is difficult, maybe you’d be more receptive to something physical?” He lifts your hand from your lap, turning it over so your palm faces the ceiling. He delicately traces shapes into your awaiting palm. It’s a familiar pattern, one he’s traced into your skin nearly every time you’re together, whether that be your hand, your hip, or even your leg.
You watch with a slight frown. “But you do that all the time.”
“Mhm.”
Your eyes shoot up to his when the meaning clicks. He’s looking at your cheeks again, blush heating up his ears. You’re sure you’re no better.
“Then… what if I do this?”
He watches as you reach forward and brush his hair from his eyes. He sighs softly as your fingers trail down his cheek to hold his jaw. You run your thumb just under his bottom lip. It takes all his effort not to shiver.
“Or… this.” You drag your thumb along his lip now, pulling it down slightly. He leans toward it without thinking, eyes half-lidded and breath hitching in his throat. He pulls you forward to close the gap you made before.
Watching him give into your touch like this is nothing short of addicting. Every time you caress his cheek, touch his chin - it’s like all his rational thoughts are thrown straight out the window.
There’s no space on the couch between you any more. You’re seconds away from climbing into his lap. His hand rests on your hip, a silent encouragement to keep going.
“Or…”
You lean forward and press your forehead to his. Your noses brush together. Air passes in quiet gasps in the few centimeters left. Pink spans across both his cheeks. It’s one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen. To think you were so scared of wasting it earlier, when he would be honored to share his exposed feelings with you all the time like this.
“This…?”
Your lips touch. It’s delicate, chaste, quick. Zayne’s breath shudders with emotion. You don’t get the chance to pull away. His hand on your cheek draws you in, over and over again. Lips move with barely restrained passion. A silent exclamation that puts your heart at ease.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
---
Tag List:
@the-golden-jhope @deepzombieyouth @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover
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novaursa ¡ 5 months ago
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The Searing Flame (chapter in-between chapter)
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- Summary: Aemond drags Grand Maester Orwlye to Aegon, so the maester can confess what he suggested to your mother.
- Pairing: (wife) twin!reader/Aegon II Targaryen
- Note: This is the expansion of The Searing Flame, this chapter happens in-between the last chapter, after Orwlye suggests to Alicent that the reader should be moved into a separate chamber, away from Aegon, just before it continues with her recovery. For all the parts and more of my works, visit my blog. The list is pinned to the top.
- Rating: Mild 13+
- Word count: 1 800+
- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne
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The sharp scent of burnt flesh and incense still clings to the air in your chambers, a cruel reminder of the fires that raged at Rook's Rest. Your body lies motionless beside your twin, Aegon, as the weight of your shared injuries presses down on the room like a storm about to break. You sleep deeply once more, not out of peace but because your body is struggling to mend itself, trying desperately to pull you from the constant brink.
Aegon stirs beside you, every breath a reminder of his own pain. His body, though awake, is just as broken as yours—his skin still angry with burns, his mind haunted by what almost happened. His hand, heavy with exhaustion, reaches out, instinctively finding yours. The touch of your cool skin is the only thing that reassures him, the only thing that keeps him tethered to the moment.
The door slams open. Aemond strides in, his one good eye burning with fury, dragging the reluctant figure of Grand Maester Orwyle behind him. Aegon blinks, lifting his head slightly, a wince creasing his face as he tries to focus on his younger brother.
"Wake up, brother," Aemond hisses, a cold edge in his voice as he drags the Maester toward the bed. "Orwyle has something he needs to confess."
Aegon's brows furrow as he struggles to sit up, his body protesting with every movement. His hand instinctively tightens around yours, unwilling to let go, as if even in your sleep you’re the only thing anchoring him to this world. His voice is hoarse when he speaks, barely more than a rasp. "What is it?"
Aemond pushes Orwyle forward with little gentleness, his face twisted in disgust. The Maester stumbles, looking down at his feet as though the stone floor might offer him some escape from the Targaryen fury bearing down on him.
"Tell him what you suggested to our mother," Aemond growls, his voice low and dangerous.
Orwyle glances nervously between the two brothers, his hands clasped in front of him, knuckles white. "I... I merely advised the Dowager Queen on... precautions," he begins, his voice shaking. "Queen Y/N... your sister... her condition—"
"Speak plainly, Maester," Aegon interrupts, his voice cutting through the room like a blade. His grip on your hand tightens further, a desperate edge entering his gaze.
Orwyle swallows hard, his voice trembling. "I suggested to the Dowager Queen that it might be best if... if Y/N were moved to another chamber. Somewhere quieter. Away from the distractions and—"
"To what end?" Aegon snaps, his eyes widening in alarm, a sharp heat rising in his chest. The thought of you—his twin, his wife—being taken away from him, of your shared connection being severed, even temporarily, fills him with dread. He can feel the rage bubbling up inside him, twisting through the pain that already gnaws at his bones.
Orwyle hesitates, glancing nervously at Aemond, who stands like a viper ready to strike. "Her condition is delicate. I... I fear that... that Queen Y/N may not—"
"May not what?" Aegon growls, his voice more forceful now. "Finish your words, Maester."
Aemond steps forward, his voice a vicious whisper. "He told our mother that he thinks our sister will die." He spits the words as though they poison his tongue. "And he wants to hide her away in some dark room to wait for the end."
Aegon’s heart slams against his ribs, a mixture of panic and fury overwhelming him. His breathing becomes labored, his entire being rebelling against the very idea of losing you. "She will not die," he hisses through clenched teeth. "She is stronger than you think, stronger than any of you fools could imagine."
"Your Grace, please," Orwyle pleads, his voice faltering. "I only meant—"
"You meant to hide her away, to leave her to rot while she still breathes!" Aegon’s voice is almost a roar now, his body trembling with the effort it takes to keep himself upright. His eyes blaze with a fury that even the fires of Rook’s Rest could not diminish. "Fix her, Orwyle. Do whatever you must. You will not touch her again unless it is to heal her."
Aemond steps closer, his own anger radiating off him like heat from a dragon’s breath. "You will do as my brother says," he growls. "Or I will see to it personally that your head no longer sits on your shoulders."
The threat hangs heavy in the air, and Orwyle trembles, nodding rapidly. "Of course, Your Graces. I will— I will do everything within my power. I swear it."
"Then go," Aegon commands, his voice laced with barely controlled rage. "And remember, Maester, I will hold you accountable for every breath my sister takes from this moment on."
Orwyle quickly backs out of the room, bowing his head repeatedly as he escapes the tension that coils like a snake in the chamber. The door shuts behind him, leaving only the low crackle of the hearth and the heavy breathing of the brothers in the air.
Aegon leans back against the headboard, his gaze immediately falling to your still form. His fingers brush your pale cheek, as if willing you to wake, to open your eyes and tell him you’re still here with him.
"I won’t let them take you," he murmurs softly, his voice barely a whisper now that the storm has passed. "Not ever."
A harsh silence fills the chamber as Aegon’s hand remains on yours, his thumb absently stroking the back of it as if the rhythm alone could rouse you from the slumber that holds you captive this night. His eyes are locked on your face, every breath he takes more labored than the last. You are the mirror of him, always have been, and the thought of you slipping away into the abyss once more twists his insides into knots he can’t unravel.
Aemond lingers by the door, his shadow stretching long across the floor in the low light. He watches his brother, his good eye narrowed, lips pressed into a thin line. There’s something unreadable in his expression—something that hovers between concern and frustration, though Aemond’s face is so often a mask, even Aegon struggles to know which.
"She will recover," Aegon mutters, as if speaking it aloud will make it true. His voice trembles slightly, though he tries to hide it. "She has to."
Aemond steps forward, moving closer to the bed, his boots softly scuffing the stone floor. "She’s strong, brother. But Maester Orwyle is a fool." His gaze shifts from your pale face to the burns still marking Aegon’s flesh. "You should be resting as well."
"I’ll rest when she wakes again and eats more," Aegon bites back, eyes flickering toward Aemond with a sharpness that cuts. "Until then, I’m not leaving her side."
Aemond exhales slowly, the tension in his shoulders visible. He approaches the foot of the bed, his hands clasped behind his back, watching you closely. “I wouldn’t ask you to leave her, Aegon. I wouldn’t dare. But you have to consider the cost of pushing yourself too far."
"The cost?" Aegon scoffs, his voice brittle with disbelief. "The cost is losing her. My twin, my wife—" His voice cracks slightly, and he looks away, his jaw clenched tight. "How am I to consider anything else when she’s lying here like this?"
Aemond doesn’t immediately reply. He stares at the faint rise and fall of your chest, and a rare flicker of vulnerability passes through his eye. His hand moves to grip the hilt of his sword, as if anchoring himself. He’s seen you fight alongside Aegon in spirit and resolve, always his equal, always his mirror. To see you now—broken, vulnerable—is a sight he finds hard to bear.
"I’ll see to it Orwyle doesn’t get near her again," Aemond finally says, his voice quiet but firm, almost a vow. "But you need to trust she’ll fight her way back to you. She’s always been stronger than either of us."
Aegon lets out a soft, bitter laugh, more of a grunt than anything, though there’s no humor in it. His eyes never leave your face. “I can’t trust anything right now. Not the Maesters, not the healers. Not even the gods.” His voice turns raw, desperate. “I should have been able to protect her.”
Aemond’s jaw tightens, his expression darkening. “You weren’t the one who failed, Aegon. It was the dragons. The battlefield. We’re always at their mercy.”
The words hang heavy in the air, a truth neither of them can deny. The dragons, so often a symbol of their power, are just as much a source of their destruction. Even their might could not shield you from the flames of war. The thought gnaws at both of them, filling the room with a bitter silence.
Aegon leans forward, his forehead resting against your hand, as if drawing strength from the warmth of your skin. “If she dies,” he says softly, the words almost strangled by emotion, “I’ll have nothing left. She’s everything. My other half.”
Aemond watches his brother, a flicker of pain crossing his usually impassive features. He knows the bond the two of you share—he’s seen it since you were children, always two halves of the same soul, inseparable. It’s a bond that he, despite his own strengths, has never quite understood. He lingers at the edges of your twin connection, watching from the outside in.
“She won’t die, Aegon,” Aemond says quietly, his tone less harsh than before. “She’s a Targaryen. And you know as well as I do that Targaryens are not easily felled.”
There’s a pause, and Aegon finally lifts his head, his bloodshot eyes meeting Aemond’s. “Then you’ll help me ensure that,” he says, more a command than a request.
Aemond gives a single, sharp nod, his eye glinting in the dim light. “Of course.”
The room falls into a tense stillness again, broken only by the faint crackle of the fire. Aemond turns to leave, but he hesitates at the door, looking back one last time. His eye lingers on you, and for a moment, something softens in his gaze. A brief flicker of something unspoken, something he would never admit aloud. Perhaps it’s worry. Perhaps it's a regret that he can't do more. But then it’s gone, his mask slipping back into place as easily as ever.
"Rest when you can," Aemond says, his voice firm again, though not without a hint of concern. "Both of you."
Aegon doesn’t respond, his focus already back on you. He watches as Aemond slips out of the room, the door closing quietly behind him, leaving the chamber once again steeped in silence.
His hand returns to yours, his thumb brushing your skin with the same relentless, aching hope. He leans down, pressing his lips against your forehead, his voice a whisper against your skin.
“Don’t leave me, Y/N.”
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dailynnt ¡ 28 days ago
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FRIENDS WITHIN TOUCHING DISTANCE
⊹ Summary: Jungkook and you, his childhood friend, live together in an apartment, sharing space as roommates. Your relationship, built on years of friendship, is gradually becoming strained by growing sexual tension. You decide to become friends with benefits, trying not to complicate your feelings. But Jungkook's world is not so simple. When you begin to realize that he is hiding something, you open the veil of his double life - a world of mafia, criminal activity, and risk that could ruin not only your deal, but everything you valued in each other.
⊹ Couple: Jeon Jungkook/ Fem!Reader
⊹ Characters: The Reader, Jeon Jungkook, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, Min Yoongi, Kim Seokjin, Kim Namjoon, Jeon Hoseok.
⊹ 🔞 Age restrictions: 18+
⊹ 👩🏼‍❤️‍👨🏻 Relationships: ⚤
⊹ 📘 Number of part: 25/?
⊹ 🖇️ Tags: best friends, friends with benefits, slow longing, sexual tension, protected sex, unprotected sex, alcohol, drunken sex, inexperienced main character, mafia au, illegal trade, deaths of minor characters, weapons, swear words.
⊹ 👩🏼‍💻 From the author: A new part for you all 🥳 It was difficult for me to write this. By the way, I should have written a little more, this part should have included more scenes. But I was forced to replace and post this part as it turned out. Please let me know if you liked it 🥺💜 Because it was so hard for me 🥹
⊹ 🫂 Dedication: For you, my love @myjungkookthighs. You are my favorite person 😘🥰 You know that I appreciate you so much and LOVE you🥰💜
⊹ ⚠️ Warning: English is not my native language, so there may be mistakes in the text. Please don't get mad at me too much! Those under 18, please don't read this story!
⊹ 📋 Tag list: @myjungkookthighs, @notsevenwithyou, @nikkinikj, @lovelyyylunaa222, @jiminiemanura, @jalexad, @kelsyx33, @bhonbhon, @unholyforjk, @ambiee3, @mianhae-baozi (If anyone wants to be in my tag list let me know)
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≣ Chapter Index ↓
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Part 21. The Dance of Souls on the Edge of the Abyss. 
Jungkook hesitates a bit, looking closely at your face, as if trying to catch the slightest hint of what you're feeling. You continue to avoid his gaze, hoping that this will hide your inner storm.  
He nods slightly, holding the boxes of food, and heads over to the table by the microwave. You hear him set them down on the countertop, opening the packages. The metallic sound of the microwave door breaking the tense silence. 
Time seems to slow down. You fight with yourself, with the urge to run away and approach him at the same time. After all, he made you suffer. But now that he's so close, your heart seems to find a peace it hasn't felt in weeks. 
You try to get down to work, ignoring Jungkook's presence, but your eyes keep coming back to him like a magnet. You're standing behind the counter, putting cigarettes on the counter, and you see Jungkook's broad back. He's fiddling with a box of ramen and rustling a package of onigiri. 
You scold yourself mentally for looking at him. You should be concentrating on your work. An hour passes. Jungkook has eaten, but he's not going anywhere.
The store is crowded tonight, you're constantly serving people. It's because it's Saturday. On weekends, there are always people at night in a convenience store. This saves you, because you don't pay so much attention to the presence of a person who occupies all your thoughts. Another hour passes, and Jungkook is still sitting at the table. 
You can't go over and see what he's doing, all you can see is his broad back. He's turned away. You think that maybe he has to meet someone here, so he showed up today. That might explain why he's not leaving. Maybe he didn't even know you worked here and ran into you by chance? 
You made eye contact with him a few times. Jungkook has been sitting with his back turned almost all the time, but now he's sitting with his back to the countertop, which is located near the panoramic window of the store. He was openly watching you work without hiding it. Sometimes you glanced over at him and saw him looking bored, staring at his phone. 
The work went by quickly, and you didn't notice how it was getting light outside. When you felt drowsy sitting at the cash register, you decided to look at your watch. It was seven thirty in the morning. You rounded your eyes. Time had passed so quickly. In half an hour, Sunchol should be here. You yawn sleepily, locking your phone and putting it in your pocket. 
You hear something fall and immediately look up. Jungkook has dropped his car keys on the ground. He quickly picks them up and catches your eye. He smiles an apologetic smile. You look at him and realize that he's been sitting with you all night. You're kind of glad about it, but on the other hand, you wonder why he needed to if he was just sitting there. He could have talked if he wanted to. 
Jungkook walks over to the cash register and you get to your feet. Your heart was calm while he was at a distance, but as soon as he approaches, you're not yourself. 
"Two packs of Black Purple sticks, please?" - Jungkook asks you. You look at him for a second and turn to the showcase of IQOS sticks. You pick up a black pack of cigarettes. 
"Nine thousand won." - You answer. "It’s be payment a map?" - Jungkook nods his head in agreement. You enter the amount on the terminal and hand it over. Jungkook pays and takes the sticks. 
"When do you get off work?" - Jungkook asks you. You are confused for a moment. 
"At eight o'clock." - You answer. But you immediately regret it. You realize that he might want to talk. But you're not sure if you're ready to talk to him right now. 
"Do you mind if I give you a ride home?" - He asks with hope in his voice. You look into his eyes, and you don't want to say “no”. You really want him to give you a ride. Now you know for sure that he stayed up all night for you. 
"I live right next door, so no need." - You answer. Jungkook nods his head a few times quickly, as if to say "I get it." 
"Then I'll just walk you home?" - He doesn't give up. You're glad he's persistent. You pinch your fingers nervously. 
"Don't you have any other plans? Like going home and getting some sleep?" - You suggest. Jungkook smiles. You can see how tired he looks. 
"I don't want to sleep." - He says. You squint your eyes. He's lying to you again. You are a little more silent than necessary. 
"But I want to." - You suddenly admit, which makes Jungkook laugh. For a moment, you forget what kind of relationship you have and feel relaxed. It's like coming home after a long journey. Your phone vibrates and you take it out to see who has texted you. 
07.39 AM | Doohoon: Candy, I'll come get you in 20 minutes. 
You nervously text back, ignoring the way Jungkook is admiring you. He comes as close to the counter as he can to see every detail. To memorize every feature of your beautiful face as clearly as possible. He missed you so much. 
07.40. AM | You: There's no need to go. I've already left because Sunchol came early. I'm going to sleep, so don't come over
You lock your phone and notice Jungkook, who is close by. He smiles playfully when he sees your scared look. You immediately feel embarrassed by that smile. You know it so well, Jungkook often used it when he knew he was embarrassing you. 
"So I'll walk you." - He says, not asking, but telling you. You press your lips into a thin line. This is what you want. Admit it. Why are you resisting? You feel your heart start to beat faster. His voice was soft but insistent, and you found it hard to deny.
"Jungkook..." - You start, but he immediately interrupts you. 
"I know you don't want me here…" - He sighs, looking away, but then back to you. "But I'm just going to walk with you. Nothing more." - You can't find anything to say. Two feelings are fighting in your head: anxiety that he's back and warmth that he's here.
"Nothing will change if you walk me home." - You say, hiding your hands in your pockets. "So there's no point in it." 
"What if I told you that it changes everything for me?" - He replies, leaning a little closer. You look at him nervously again, but try to keep a cool expression on your face.
"You're very stubborn, you know?" - You try not to smile. 
"I know." - Jungkook smiles, unlike you. "Otherwise, I wouldn't have been able to spend the whole night with you without saying a word, and now I'm standing here hoping you'll let me walk these few steps next to you." - You are amazed. He wants to be close to you that badly? It's so exciting. Especially when you feel the same way.
But you can't be fooled. How does he make you forget everything you've been through because of him so easily? Why does just looking at him make you think that the Jungkook you're looking at now is the real one, not the one that was in the warehouse three weeks ago?
"You shouldn't want something like this..." - You say dryly. You wonder to yourself how you can talk to him like that. But you have to do it because you don't want to suffer anymore. You have already left everything to fate once.
"But I want to." - Jungkook says decisively. "There's no way you're going to deny me." - You raise your eyebrows. You really can't say no to him. The thought irritates you. 
"I can deny to you walking me home." - You say, smiling almost triumphantly. 
"But you haven't done that yet." - Jungkook curls his lips. You open your mouth to protest, but before you can answer, Sunchol walks into the shop. 
"Did you see that Mercedes parked outside the store? Damn, that car..." - He freezes when he sees the picture in front of him. You're standing there, annoyed, with your mouth open, and Jungkook is standing close to the counter, leaning on it. "Good morning." - Sunchol greets the two of you and bows. Most likely to Jungkook, because he has never bowed to you. Sungchul walks toward you, and Jungkook steps away from the counter, while you look down and clean up your workspace and prepare it for your partner. 
"Do you like the car?" - Jungkook asks Sunchol, who has come over and is about to go behind the counter to you. 
"Yes." - The guy answers awkwardly. Jungkook notices how he takes a second to study him with his eyes. 
"Do you want me to give you a ride?" - Jungkook asks. You and Sunchol stare at Jungkook. He smiles as if he offered free ice cream, not a ride in his G-Wagon to your partner.
"Thank you, sir." - Sunchol bowed, overcoming the shock of the offer. "But I don't have a driver's license, and I don't know how to drive well." - He replied. Jungkook purrs in understanding and turns his gaze to you.
You roll your eyes defiantly and open the cash register to count the money. Jungkook laughs quietly. Sunchol sees that you two have some kind of relationship. You wouldn't roll your eyes at a normal customer like that. 
"You must be Doohoon? Y/N's friend?" - Your partner asks. You want to answer that Jungkook is not the Doohoon you mentioned to Sunchol in passing, but Jungkook interrupts you. 
"I'm Jungkook, Y/N's boyfriend." - Jungkook was annoyed that he was confused with Doohoon. Did you introduce him to this guy as your friend? 
You freeze up. Who did he say he was? Has he so much insolent? 
"You forgot to add ex." - You said ironically. Jungkook pursed his lips, and you turned your eyes to his mole under his lip. It was your favorite, except for the one on the right side of his neck. 
Jungkook leans forward a little, leaning on the counter, and looks you in the eye. His gaze is a mixture of challenge and insistence.
"I'm not the ex, I'm the present, and I always will be your boyfriend." - His voice is calm but confident, as if he's just made an indisputable statement.
You rest your hands on the counter and lean in closer, keeping your eyes on him too.
"That's a bold statement, but you forgot to ask me if I agree with it." - You say coldly, though your chest is tight.
"I... I think I'll go check on the back room." - Sunchol says, clearly uncomfortable with the situation, and quickly finds an excuse to leave the counter. He walks away, and you cross your arms over your chest and keep your eyes on Jungkook.
"Why did you say that? Do you think you can decide what kind of relationship we have?" - You asked angrily. 
"I don't decide of my own, it's the way it is. We're boyfriend and girlfriend." - Jungkook says. You exhale nervously. 
"No, we're not together anymore. I thought you realized that the last time we saw each other." - You say, trying to control your emotions. 
"We just had a fight. That's what happens when people get together." - Jungkook said casually. So he thinks that when you were kidnapped, tried to be hurt because of him, and you heard all the terrible things he did, you had a simple fight against the background of these events? Is it that simple for him? 
"We had a fight? I was kidnapped because of you. They wanted to cut me into pieces. We did not quarrel. I left you so that I could be okay. And now you come here and say you're my boyfriend. What makes you think you can come into my life like this?" - You were irritated. 
Jungkook straightens up a little, taking a step back, and keeps his eyes on you.
"Because I'm already in it. I always have been. And I will be, even if you're trying to deny it now." - He says decisively. For a moment, you remember how good it was when he didn't talk all night. He annoys you, although if you're honest, you liked the way he said it: "I'm already in him, I've always been and I'll always be." You want to believe that Chunguk will always be in your life. You sigh, but your persistence begins to weaken.
"Jungkook... We... we have nothing. It's not going to work. We're strangers." - You say, looking down and counting the money. You have to count it to finish the shift. The boss is coming in soon, but you can't get your thoughts together at all. 
"We're not strangers, baby...and we never will be." - Jungkook says softly. You almost cry at the sweet nickname he likes to call you. Your heart is tightening and your breathing is getting harder. You want to say something back, but the words get stuck in your throat.
"I have to hand in my shift. I need to count the money..." - You want to say that Jungkook should leave because he's interfering with your work, but he knows what you're about to say, so he interrupts. 
"I'll wait. And then I'll walk you home." - You see those eyes in Bambi's and you can't say “no”. 
"Maybe I don't want you to know where I live." - You say more softly. Jungkook is amused. 
"Oh, baby, you know I'm going to find out anyway... or I already do." - Jungkook says. You sigh in frustration.
"Okay..." - You finally agree. He really pressed you. 
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You look down at your feet and lose yourself in space. You feel a little tense. In fact, you are tired and want to sleep, but when you realize that Jungkook is next to you, your tiredness is gone. He touches your hand with his own, as if by accident, letting the person who was walking to meet him pass. 
This accidental touch burns in the place where he touched you. You have forgotten what it feels like when he touches you. How his hugs and kisses feel like. How it’s when his naked skin feels like when it's pressed against yours. You burn at the thought of such intimate images with Jungkook. You haven't had sex in three weeks, and you sure Jungkook hasn't either. So even this simple contact makes you think about forbidden things. 
"Do you like living in this neighborhood?" - Jungkook asks to get your attention. You stare at him for just a second, unable to bear his gaze. You pull your arms around the collar of your jacket to keep it from getting too cold. 
"Yes." - You say. Although the real answer to this question is “no”. No, because there is no Jungkook here, annoying Doohoon comes here, it's too far from the university campus, and the apartment is expensive. You don't like living here at all, but how can you say that to him? 
"How are you doing? Have you been sick? Are you eating well?" - Jungkook asks. You freeze in the middle of the sidewalk. Jungkook doesn't immediately notice that you're not there. After he walks a few steps, he turns around, looking for you. You look at him, a lump stuck in your throat. You cannot speak. You think if you do, you'll cry. If only this fool knew how you've been beating yourself up for the past three weeks. That you couldn't sleep properly, that you had no appetite, and that you even lost four kilograms. 
Jungkook keeps looking at you and comes over. He tries to understand what you are going to do now, whether to cry or scream.
"Tell me why you came, Jeon. I don't want to talk to you like we're old friends who haven't seen each other for a long time." - You say, overcoming the pain in your chest and the lump in your throat. Jungkook exhales in frustration. Your cold and harsh tone upsets him. 
"You know why I came here, baby." - He says quietly. Your heart is fluttering. You probably know, but you need to hear it. 
"Just tell me. Because maybe we don't think alike. I don't really know you." - You say colorlessly. Jungkook bites his lip nervously. You look at his lips for a split second, and you wish you could taste them. Jungkook is silent. The silence seems like an eternity to you, until Jungkook works his fucking magic.He can read your mind and do what you want?
You don't understand how it happened, or where your consciousness was a moment ago, because when Jungkook's lips are on yours, you still don't realize it. Or when he presses down harder on your jaw, and his cold fingers contrast against your skin. Or when his warm, soft lips kiss yours desperately. You finally realize what's happening.
It feels like when you see fireworks go off. This delight. It is the same. It tears your soul apart, makes your heart beat furiously in your chest, and thoughts simply cease to exist in your head. There is only Jungkook and his lips. You respond because you wanted to. You thirst for those lips, you need them.
Jungkook kisses you gently, lovingly. He dreamed of this. He wanted you to respond to this desired kiss so badly, and now your lips are moving to meet his. His insides are trembling. He deepens the kiss when you respond. His tongue slips into your mouth and catches your tongue. They connect and the kiss makes your head spin. 
You instantly feel aroused. You've missed Jungkook, and his passionate kiss, which was apologetic at first, has become demanding. You're in the middle of the street, and people might be looking at you. But you don't care, and neither does Jungkook. He could kiss you even when you're out of air.
But you need to breathe in. You try to pull away. You pull away for a second when Jungkook captures your lips again. He doesn't want to let you go. You take a step back, trying to get away, but Jungkook step forward, holding your face in his hands without even thinking about letting go. 
"Jungkook..." - You call out to him, almost against his lips. He has to let you go, because you can't kiss forever. Although if he wanted to, he would. He would kiss those lips in front of him for the rest of his life. Jungkook is moving away, but not that far. You can see every mole on his face in detail. His obsidian eyes, which seem to look into your very soul. 
"I can't live without you..." - He says, stroking your cheeks with his thumb. "I thought I should leave you alone so you wouldn't suffer anymore because of me. But I'm so fucking selfish..." - Jungkook says. Your breathing is getting faster. You stare at Jungkook in silence, trying to hold back the tears that threaten to escape at any second. "I don't know how to make you come back. You've been in my life for so long, I can't imagine it without you." 
"Jungkook..." - You say in a trembling voice. "I've been in your life for as long as you've been in mine. Do you think I can let you go that easily?" - You ask. Jungkook smiles sadly. "But..." - You start, but he interrupts you. 
"I knew you were going to say that. There's always a fucking 'but'." - He says in frustration. He doesn't let go of you, and you stand within touching distance of each other. 
"Yes, there is." - You clear your throat. "For us to be together, you need to stop being who you are." - Jungkook looks at you, studying your expression, and then lets go. He takes a step back. 
"And who I am Y/N? I'd like to hear who you think I am." - Jungkook says, dejectedly. 
"You are not the Jungkook I knew. You've become different, and I don't know who you are. Whether you're a heartless killer or just a hostage to the situation." - You said honestly. Jungkook smiled. But it was not a friendly smile. It was desperate, on the verge of hysteria. 
"I have changed. It's true. But I'm not as horrible as Doohoon made me out to be in your eyes. Yes, I may have done and am doing terrible things, but I have to do this. Because if I don't, it will be done to me, or worse, to those I love." - Jungkook explains to you. You think of the right words to say. While you are thinking, Jungkook speaks for you first. "But I know for sure that my feelings for you are the same as they were. They grew bigger every year until you made me fall in love with you. I do love you. And I will do everything to make you mine forever." - Your emotions are out of control after these words. Your eyes instantly fill with tears. He told you that he loves you. He loves you and you just can't wrap your head around it. He's been your best friend all your life, and you could never have imagined, when you secretly dreamed of him, that he would confess his love to you. 
"What?" - You ask in a trembling voice. Salty tears are quietly flowing down your cheeks, freezing on your face, but it doesn't matter. 
"I love you, my baby." - He says without thinking. He kisses you and tastes the saltiness of your tears. You pull away from each other, but you feel something unresolved pressing on your soul. 
"Jungkook, you don't have to be Namjoon's errand boy. You can leave because it's not your duty." - You say. Jungkook hugs you, and when he hears what you say, his grip loosens, but you're still in his arms. 
"You know why I work for Namjoon. Until all the money is returned, he won't let me go." - Jungkook explains.��
"It's now up to Doohoon to give the money back. He's in Korea." - You saying. It's that simple for you. The reason is that Namjoon wants Jungkook to be the one to pay off the debt, to keep him around as long as possible. Jungkook has no doubt that Namjoon will take care of Doohoon if he needs to. 
"Yes. So let him pay it back." - Jungkook says with a slight teasing edge to his voice. You look up at him, and look up at his beautiful face. He smiles out of one corner of his mouth. 
"Why are you like this? It's not funny, I'm telling you real things. If he's guilty, he should pay for his actions himself." - You say, offended. 
"He will never do that." - Jungkook replies. "If he had been my true friend from the beginning, I wouldn't have ended up next to Namjoon at all. Doohoon did everything he could to make me who I am. He wanted me to come down from the pedestal of my perfection and become the exact opposite. He did a great job. Now I'm not the perfect Jungkook I was in high school and university. I'm a gangster who makes his living in a dirty way." - He says this so calmly, as if it's all just something to be accepted and nothing to be done about. You don't like his tone. 
"Doohoon is a rare shit, everyone knows that. But if I ask him to do it, he'll do it. I'm sure if I ask him to pay back the debt, he will." - You say with hope in your voice. Jungkook laughs shamelessly at your position. You sound like a naive child. You raise your eyebrows, which makes Jungkook laugh even harder. 
"Are you sure you're talking about the same person we know?" - Jungkook asks through his laughter. 
"Yes." - You say irritated. Jungkook shakes his head and tries to calm down. 
"It's not going to happen. He will never payment his debt, that you and I can live happily together. That thing likes you, and I'm ready to grind him to a halt for it. Even it’s seems like he listen you, he wouldn't do it." - Jungkook said serious now. You tense your brows. You pull away from Jungkook and think you should leave. Your legs hurt and you want to sleep. You think about asking Jungkook to come over to your place. 
You suggest that you go on, and Jungkook agrees. You hold his hand, and he smokes an IQOS with the flavor of wild berries and menthol. Sometimes, when the wind blows in your direction, this combination of smells tickles your chemoreceptors. Although you don't like the smell of IQOS sticks. 
"Do you think I won't persuade him?" - You ask. Jungkook exhales the smoke. 
"No. And I would even ask you not to." - Jungkook says. He takes another drag, and you watch his lips cover the filter. 
"Why?" - You ask immediately. 
"Because fuck knows what's going on in his head." - Jungkook explains. You don't understand what he's talking about. 
"Okay. Let's pretend for a minute that he agrees..." - You suggest. Jungkook stops. You stop after him. 
"That's not going to happen. Why even pretend it?" - You hear the irritation in his voice. 
"You didn't listen to me. That's not what I wanted to ask." - You say, however the irritation in your voice is obvious. "If he agrees to pay back the debt. Namjoon will let you go?" - You ask. You see Jungkook tense up at your question. You don't like this. 
"He should..." - Jungkook says in a low voice. His answer sounded so unsure, like he didn't believe it himself. 
"He should?" - You ask. "So it's not a given that he's going to let you go." 
"He promised and he would, but I'm not sure it will be that easy." - Jungkook admits. 
"I can talk to him, however he wants you to..." - Jungkook interrupts you before you can finish your sentence. 
"No!" - Jungkook says sharply. "Don't even think about it. You can't see Namjoon under any circumstances. He's not someone you can just talk to." - He almost yelled at you. You were embarrassed. "You heard me Y/N. Don't even think you can go talk to him. You can't." - Jungkook took your hands, shaking them slightly. 
"Okay, I understand." - You say with bitterness in your voice.
You walk and reach your house. You tell Jungkook in which building you live, but by his expression you realize that he seems to know. You have a thousand and one thoughts in your head. Before you invite Jungkook, who clearly wants to come over, you want to complete the dialog you've been started. One thought triggers you and you want to know the answer to it. 
"Jungkook, the man who stole me...." - You start, but you stop talking because it's hard for you to remember that moment. 
"What about him?" - Jungkook asks you. Honest you want to know if Jungkook really threatened your kidnapper with a child. 
"I wanted to ask you... he told me that you threatened him with the child if he didn't give his capital to Namjoon.... Is it true? Just tell me, I'll know if you're lying!" - You said. Jungkook raised his eyebrows. 
"What kind of nonsense is that? We may be a mafia, but we have a code. We don't touch children, and I don't even threaten like that." - Jungkook replies. You don't quite believe his words. What decent bandits... And you don't like the word "we" either. Jungkook doesn't consider himself one of them. 
"And the women? Do you threatened them? Because you, for example, have been threatened more than once that they will hurt me." - You say. Jungkook froze, which he might tells you that they are not disgusted by blackmail, or even act it.
"It's an effective tool, especially on men who have feelings." - Jungkook says. You're starting to get angry. 
"So your fucking code forbids you to touch children, but you can use a woman or a parent as leverage to get what you want, right?" - You ask ironically. Jungkook doesn't answer right away. You watch for a minute as Jungkook removes the used stick from the IQOS and back it into the box with the others. 
"It happens." - Jungkook answers simply, and you are annoying. 
"So it happen? Then maybe you shouldn't tell me that you have some kind of prejudice. If you don't neglect women and the elderly, why wouldn’t you threaten a children’s?" - You shout. Jungkook sees that you're angry, and he's trying to calm you down. 
"Baby, I would never threaten a child in my life. I'm not that kind of bastard, no matter what I do. This bastard has really messed with your head. I didn't torture him for eight hours, and we wanted to collect the debt because he pawned his securities that he lost in Namjoon's casino. And we took the company because that stupid idiot was gambling 24/7. He owed so much money that taking his little company was his only way out of it." - Jungkook explained to you. You listened to him with an angry expression on your face. It sounded very believable. 
"You guys are so holy that you can't even be called the mafia. Maybe you should call yourselves the Saints Clan?" - You suggested sarcastically. Jungkook looked at you skeptically. 
"I'm telling you the truth. It's up to you to believe me or not." - Jungkook assured you. You were annoyed that Jungkook was so protective of the people who do not neglect blackmail. He uses "we" as if he considers himself a part of them and wants to show them good to you. But the mafia is the mafia. Bandits are bandits. They are not good. 
"Jungkook, if I convince Doohoon to pay off the debt. Will you quit your job at Namjoon's?" - You asked directly. Jungkook exhaled nervously. How can he explain to you that this won't happen? You don't know Dohun well and you don't know Namjoon at all. 
"It's much more complicated than you think and imagine, baby." - Jungkook says, and you're not at all satisfied with this answer. 
"It's simple. It really is. Your wish. His word. Just tell me, do you want to go and live like a normal person?" - You ask. 
"I want to... but..." - Jungkook mumbles, and you're shocked at how uncertain he sounds. 
"But what, Jungkook?" - You ask, almost softly. Jungkook stares at you. 
"I mean, it won't work like that. My desire is not enough...." - He answers. You look at him and your fears are realized. You've thought about it before, but what if Jungkook is so used to this life that he can't go back to normal anymore? Hearing his tone and answers, you see the confirmation of your thoughts. 
You look at Jungkook and can barely contain your irritation. The uncertainty with which he speaks confuses you, but at the same time makes you more suspicious.
"Not enough? Your desire is not enough? Are you serious?" - Your voice has become quieter, but every word cuts like a blade.
"Baby, I can't just walk away. You don't understand how it works..." - He replied, exhaling deeply as if it were obvious.
"You explain it to me, Jungkook. Explain it to me, because I really don't understand how you can hold on so tightly to a life that only destroys you. You like it?" - Your eyes were full of undisguised anger.
Jungkook was silent for a moment, looking at your face carefully, as if he was looking for an answer to his unspoken questions. His jaw tensed, and his fingers clenched the pack of sticks in his pocket so that you could hear the crunch of the packaging.
"I can't just go like you'd like me to. This isn't a movie, Y/N. There's no way out without consequences." - His voice was calm, but there was something in it that made you cringe.
"So you're going to keep doing this? You're going to risk your life, let them use you, live in fear and lies? Is that what you want?" - You took a step towards him, your hands trembling slightly.
"I don’t want this…" - He whispered, looking away. "…But I’m already in too deep. There’s too much at stake. If I leave, it won’t just affect me."
You took another step, now you were standing very close.
"You say it won’t just affect you… Jungkook, what about me? Did you think your actions would affect me right now?" - Your words sounded desperate, and he could feel it.
"I know that…" - He finally answered, looking straight into your eyes. "But I’ll try to keep you away. I'll make sure it doesn’t ruin your life." - You laughed softly, but there was no joy in your laughter.
"Keep me away? Are you serious, Jungkook? You're standing here in front of me, talking about all this, and then you say you're trying to keep me away? You already tried that, and it didn't work." - You said. He clenched his jaw and said nothing. "Jungkook..." - Your shoulders slumped, your voice softer. "I want you to snap out of it. If not for yourself, then at least for me..." - His eyes met yours again, and you saw in them something like a struggle-a struggle between desire and fear, hope and reality.
But he knew in advance that it would not be the way you want it to be, or the way he wants it to be. It will be the way Namjoon wants it to be. Jungkook can't leave the mafia, even though he had hope. Maybe in many years, when Namjoon decides that the debt is paid, but Jungkook knows how Namjoon feels about him. He's not going to let him go that easily. 
Jungkook touches your face with his hand. You feel the warmth of his hand and this gesture calms you down. You hope he will accept your proposal. 
"Baby... I've been in this for years and I'm telling you the truth, Namjoon is not going to let me go anytime soon. All I want is for you to be by my side. I don't want you to worry about what I do or who I am. With you, I am real and that's the main thing. I want to be with you because I love you, so I'm asking you to bear with me for a while until I have the opportunity to leave the clan." - Jungkook says it softly, but you can't believe it as you listen.
You can hear him asking you to risk your life between the lines, but you think otherwise. You prioritize peace and a good life over fear and tension. You don't want to worry every night when Jungkook doesn't come back or pick up the phone and think that something happened to him. Or be afraid to walk down the street because some man will want to take revenge on Jungkook for his "activities". This is not for you. You take a step back, moving away from Jungkook and shake your head. Tears well up in your eyes and you make the most difficult decision of your life. 
"No, Jungkook. It won't be like this. I can't wait. I think we should put an end to our relationship and friendship." - You said. 
Jungkook rubbed his hands together nervously, as if trying to find the right words. His voice was calm but hoarse, as if he was struggling inside.
"I can't go back to normal, Y/N, not yet, and you have to understand. Even if I really want to. This is more than just a decision. This is my life now. It's hard for me to say this, but I became who I am because of circumstances. And now I can only change the way I live, but not change myself."  - You listened attentively, not interrupting, even though every word he said was painful.
"Jungkook..." - You began, but he interrupted.
"Just accept me as I am. If you really love me, you can do this." - He said, pressing at you. Your heart was pounding at the words.
"I love you." - You said quietly. "But I can't live in this world, not even for you. I am not like you. I'm scared, and I don't want to get used to what seems normal to you." - His eyes dimmed, but he didn't look away.
"It's obvious now that we can't compromise. We're just too different, our ways are too different. It's not going to work, Jungkook, no matter how much we want it to." - You added, gathering all your resolve. 
You turned to leave without waiting for his answer. He didn't say anything, just stared after you, clenching his fists. 
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Doohoon reads your text messages and locks his phone. He's annoyed that you keep pushing him away. He does everything to please you, but you don't even respond to simple things. You respond harshly and coldly. He's annoyed as hell, but he knows he has to be patient. If he perseveres, he will get what he wants in the end. And that something he wants is you. 
It's only been three weeks since the incident with your kidnapping, which Doohoon set up and pulled off so perfectly. He paid a lot of money to the man who agreed to kidnap you. He knows that Jungkook knows the truth about the kidnapping and has probably dealt with Inho (the man's name), but he doesn't care what happened next. The main thing is that it worked, and now you think Jungkook is a real monster. 
Doohoon drives up to the store where you work and notices a Gelentwagen parked not far away with Jungkook's license plate. Did this loser come to see you? He really have the courage to come to you and apologize? 
Doohoon parks his car next to Jungkook's G-Wagon and gets out. He enters the store and looks for you. He doesn't see you or Jungkook. He moves toward the cash register. Behind the counter is a young guy and an older man, who looks like a chief. Both men greet him. Doohoon smiles easily, although he doesn't feel like it. But these are your acquaintances and he has to look good in their eyes. Doohoon bows slightly and returns the greeting. 
"Good morning." - He says in a friendly tone. "I'm a friend of Y/N. I'm here to pick her up. Is she still at work?" - He asks to see if you were telling the truth. The young man behind the counter immediately answers. 
"Oh, she left about five minutes ago. With her boyfriend, I think..." - Doohoon raises his eyebrows. A boyfriend? You couldn't have forgiven him so quickly. "At least that's what he introduced himself as... I think his name was Jungkook." - The cashier says. Doohoon feels a fierce surge of anger in his middle. This bastard thinks he can take you away from him. But Doohoon has done a good job of making you see his bad side. How can you want to be with Jungkook but not him after all that? 
"Okay, thanks. Have a good day." - Doohoon says and leaves the store, not noticing the two men staring at him. 
Doohoon decides to walk to your home. He thinks that either Jungkook will walk with you at your home or you could go to a cafe near your house. He thought that you've walked and made tired, you don't want to go far.
Doohoon is walking the same road you did not long ago. He is walking fast so that if he has the opportunity he can catch up with you. 
He stops when he sees you and Jungkook. You're standing in the middle of the sidewalk kissing. Doohoon almost goes crazy. He's torn to the middle. How could you do this? He was trying so hard to open your eyes to Jungkook's true nature. Aren't your feelings for this asshole so strong that you don't even care that he's a fucking mafia that tortures people and blackmails them with little children? Are you completely stupid or what? 
Doohoon wants to get up to you, but he's in no hurry. He's at a safe distance and the flow of people disguises him well. He watches as you stop kissing, say something, and then keep walking. Doohoon follows. When you come to your house, he dares to get close to hear what you are saying. 
When Doohoon hears your conversation, he is happy, and he scolds himself for worrying about you for nothing. You are still as correct as ever. Even Jungkook's declaration of love didn't convince you to stay with him. And now, Doohoon has a good chance of making you his. 
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Half an afternoon passes and Doohoon looks at his watch. It reads 2:30 pm. You had arranged to meet Suyong at about four o'clock to meet at the campus and you have to leave soon to go to the university. 
You still haven't responded to Doohoon's offer to give you a ride, but he doesn't need your approval. He's going to drive you. 
Doohoon parks the car in front of your driveway and dials your number. There is a long series of rings, and almost at the last one you pick up the phone. 
"Hello?" - You say dryly. 
"Hi, candy. Are you ready?" - Doohoon asks you affectionately. 
"Ready for what?" - You ask your question. He can hear how upset you are in your voice.
"We agreed that I would take you to the university." - Doohoon replies. 
"We didn't agree." - You say sharply, and Doohoon feels irritated. There's that tone again, and he's starting to get tired of it. But he restrains himself. "I'll go on my own, I'm not ready yet." 
"Candy, I'm already waiting for you at the door. Don't be so stubborn. I'll wait as long as you need, you don't have to go alone if I'm going to get the same way." - Doohoon says, keeping his tone soft. You don't say anything for a while, and then he hears you exhale into the phone. 
"Okay. I'll be down in 15 minutes." - You say and hang up before Doohoon can even make a sound. 
You leave the house exactly 15 minutes later, looking blacker than a storm cloud. Doohoon notices the black bags under your eyes. You are also dressed in all black. You get into the car and barely greet him. You drive in silence for a while. Doohoon can't wait to talk to you. 
"Candy, how are you? Did you get any sleep?" - He asks you.
"Yes. Everything is fine." - You say quietly and open your phone, showing him that you're not in the mood for a conversation. 
Doohoon looks at you, he needs to know what you feel about Jungkook right now. 
"How did your meeting with Jungkook go? Did you talk?" - Doohoon asks, looking at the road. Hearing Jungkook's name come out of his mouth, you instantly turn your head toward him. Doohoon continues to stare at the road and doesn't look at you. 
"How...?" - You're about to ask if he was following again, but Doohoon interrupts. 
"I wasn't following you. I texted you that I was coming to get you. You'd have to be a fool not to recognize Jungkook's car and license plate." - Doohoon replies, stopping at a traffic light. When he stops, he looks at you and smiles. You look down at Doohoon. 
"I wrote you not to come. Why do you do whatever you want?" - You ask, irritated. Doohoon smiles even wider. 
"I wanted to give you a ride because you work so hard at night. You should just accept my help, you wouldn't have to work at all." - Doohoon says. How you so tired of everyone around you wanting to help you, to take care of you. It makes you sick to your stomach. 
"Listen, Doohoon. I don't need your help or your care. I don't want to communicate with you, I've told you that a thousand times." - You're raising your voice. You're so fucking stressed out all the time. 
"Really? Than who do you want to communicate with? Whose care do you want? Jungkook’s?" - Doohoon asks sarcastically. You choke on his words.
"I don't need any of you. You are dividing me like I am a deer carcass. I want you both out of my life." - You say angrily. You sit up straight and cross your arms. Your breathing is fast and ragged. Doohoon forces you to move. 
"I thought you'd fall for his words and his declaration of love. But, candy, you told him all right. You're two so different." - Doohoon says, and you look at him in horror. 
"You were listening to our conversation?" - You ask and your voice breaks. 
"I had to make sure he wouldn't hurt you...." - Doohoon replies. 
"You're really crazy? Why would he hurt me?" - You yell. 
"He's a gangster..." - Doohoon says. You think you is going to explode with anger. 
"It doesn't matter who he is. He loves me, he won't ever hurt me." - You say it like you're spraying poison. 
"Candy, he's the reason you were kidnapped. Don't you realize that his feelings are only harmful to you?" - Doohoon tries to tell you. 
"Shut your mouth!" - You shout. "I don't need your advice. I don't need you either. Get off me. Let me off now." - You grab the doorknob to open the door, but unfortunately, Doohoon has locked it. 
"Calm down Y/N. Okay, I'm not going to say anything else to you. Just calm down." - Doohoon puts his hand on your hip to make you pay attention to him, turning away from the door. You immediately knock his hand away. 
"Don't touch me!" - You scream. Doohoon's nerves are fraying. He parks not far from the sidewalk and approaches you. Your eyes look up at him in fright. 
"Y/N, listen to me carefully. I have tolerated your harsh words, your stubbornness, because I respect you and care about you. But if you think that you can talk to me as if I were some random stranger, then you are very much mistaken. I will not allow you to speak to me in that tone." - His voice is sharp, but he tries to remain calm
"What are you going to do, Doohoon? Are you going to follow me again, eavesdrop or spy on me? Do you think I owe you anything? You just want to control me!" - You say with a challenge. 
"Control? No, candy, I just want to protect you. But if you don't stop treating me like I'm the enemy, I might change my approach. You know I can be kind, but I can also be tough. Is that what you want?" - Doohoon ask you. His smile is dry, but his eyes are sharp. 
"What are you going to do, Doohoon? Are you going to threaten me? Fine, go ahead, show your real face!" - You say sarcastically. Doohoon leans closer, his voice low and cold. You're disgusted by his closeness, even though he smells nice. 
"Careful, Y/N. You won't like my 'real face'. I've always been good to you, even when you didn't deserve it. But if you keep provoking me, I might show you what it looks like when I lose my patience." - He returns to his seat behind the wheel, takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "But I don't want that. I want you to understand that I am not your enemy. I just want you to make the right choice. Think about your behavior, think about who really cares about you. And decide who is more important to you." - He unlocks the door. "And now you can go. But remember what I said. You have time to think about it." 
You're angry and a little confused, but you still have your pride. You open the door and say on the way out. 
"Don't think you can tell me what to do. Go to hell. I never want to see you again." - You get out of the car, slamming the door loudly, but deep inside you feel disturbed by his words and behavior. 
Doohoon starts the car and nervously grips the steering wheel. Your stubbornness is really getting to him. 
"Let's see how long you can stay stubborn, candy." - He mutters under his breath. Why don't you want to be his voluntarily? He's trying so hard for you. Doohoon is going crazy. He doesn't want to take any drastic measures yet, but if you keep acting like this, he'll be forced to. Because you'll be his anyway. 
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ikementally-deficient ¡ 4 months ago
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Advice On Writing
I have a couple of writing friends who keep asking me for advice (which is extremely flattering and I love to infodump, please don't stop), but I thought getting my thoughts down on the metaphorical paper and putting them out into the world might be helpful for others as well.
I mostly had fanfiction in mind when I wrote this, but honestly I think the vast majority of it will be applicable to any kind of creative writing.
I would love to get feedback or have conversations about this, so if you want to squawk at or with me, please don't hesitate!
The Bare Minimum
Write
Write as often and as much as you can. If you manage to do nothing else on this list, just writing consistently and continuously will eventually improve your skills, even if it takes a long time.
The Basics
2. Read
Find things you enjoy, and read them. Read as much as you have time for. Things that speak to you and make you feel things (words, turns of phrase, tropes) will all work their way into your subconscious and feed your own writing.
3. Read Critically
Re-read the things you enjoy, and consciously think about why you enjoy them. Why did this scene manage to express such a clear sense of desolation? What about this interaction between characters made me relate to them so much? How did this story give me such a sense of satisfaction and coming full circle? Highlight the phrases you really love. Look for and circle the small details that foreshadow later developments. Identify the things you don’t like as well (nothing is perfect). How would you have done this differently? Do you hate the purple prose, or is it killing you that these scenes aren’t more detailed? Look up the words you don’t understand - maybe the author chose their words poorly, or maybe you’re one of the lucky ten thousand who gets to learn a new vocabulary word today.
The Cringe Parts
4. Ask for constructive criticism
This part is really hard, but vital. While you will inevitably find some of the weaknesses of your own writing, you won’t find all of them. An outside perspective is invaluable. If you’re frightened of constructive criticism, start small. Ask one person to look at SPAG (spelling, punctuation, and grammar). Pick one paragraph or scene to show someone and ask them how it flows. Have someone review your outline for plotholes instead of giving them prose. Brace yourself for things you don’t want to hear. Sit with any and all criticism for a few days before reacting. It’s okay to decide that someone just didn’t get what you were going for, but make sure that’s actually true instead of just a knee-jerk reaction to hurt feelings or a bruised ego. Listen to what your reviewer or beta is actually saying - ‘this part confuses me’ doesn’t mean your writing is bad, it means that your head holds the entire picture and you just didn’t put enough of that down on paper so your reader can see it too.
5. Re-read your own work
Every once in a while, go back and see how what you wrote six months ago or last year holds up. You’ve been writing for a while, you’re a stronger writer, so give yourself the perspective of seeing how far you’ve come. And see if there are any weak areas that are still giving you trouble; you can focus more on those in your next piece of writing.
6. Edit for other people
Editing is a skill. No one falls out of the sky able to give useful and actionable feedback. The act of reading and criticising something you have a little cognitive distance from is far easier than criticising your own work, but it’s still a muscle you need to build. Start with basic proof reading (SPAG). Ask questions: “Why did you choose this word, it seems obscure?” Explain your feedback: “I can’t tell who’s speaking here, I think the dialogue went back and forth one too many times without a tag.” Instead of “I don’t like this,” explain why: “This description feels like something I’ve seen too many times already and feel cliché, but I bet you can change it up.” Learning to give that feedback in a kind and helpful way is something you can bring back to your own writing. Remember that if someone asks you to beta read or edit their work, they too are trying to get better. Don’t just blow sunshine up their ass, give them the respect of being honest about elements that aren’t working. Just don’t be an asshole about it. 
Some resources on being a good beta reader - these also are handy guides for writers on how to communicate their needs effectively to a beta reader:
How to Be a Great Beta Reader and Give Helpful Feedback (dianaurban.com)
What makes a good beta reader? (smallbluedog.com)
Tips on how to beta read, from a beta reader : FanFiction (reddit.com)
Advanced Class
7. Try new things
Try a different format. If you mostly write long, multi-chapter works, aim for a short story. Write some poetry. Change up your genre. Consciously try to imitate someone else’s style. Stretch out of your comfort zone. Feel like you write too much descriptive detail? Force yourself to write nothing but dialogue, like Isaac Asimov. Feel like your characters are always floating in empty space? Indulge in some Robert Jordan, down to every detail of what the characters are wearing. This is going to be difficult, and the results might not be something you want to share publicly, but it’s still worth the effort.
8. Read about writing
There are university courses on this stuff. Check your local library for a copy of the Little, Brown Handbook - it’s aimed at academic writing, but it’s a great resource on grammar and syntax and planning and revising your work. Look for fun ones like The Transitive Vampire and The Well-Tempered Sentence, or Eats, Shoots & Leaves. Centre for Fiction has a great list of books on creative writing by writers, and industry professionals (if publishing for profit is a goal of yours). 
Back to the Beginning
9. Keep writing
You might not be the next Stephen King, or Jude Devereaux, or Isaac Asimov. Cool, me neither. You don’t have to be. As long as writing is still giving you joy, keep doing it. 
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