#Anyway! Promo time :P

[miraacleworker]

small doodle dump‼️

also sorry for the lack of posts school started again so i havent had much time to draw (tragic)

[to-fu]

FINALLY made consistency guidelines 4 the headshots (lineart size, canvas size, etc) so that i no longer have to guess if they look consistent w the others

[sanstropfremir]

if you could bring back one styling that you think wasn't appreciated in its time or the fans weren't ready for (but are now) or just think should be around again, which would it be? (hard round: something other than TVXQ's "Triangle" styling) (and I already know the #1 is Pink Gumby)

(kicks rock) ok FINE i won't immediately say triangle.........

my first instinct is actually something that DID get its due appreciation: arario!! it was genuinely ahead of its time (both in styling and musical composition), and if vixx hadn't done shangri-la we might never have seen a traditional/hanbok styling trend in kpop. but realistically this is kind of a tough question to answer because most trends in kpop styling have been recycled already in some way. i could say something like we should bring back the goofy looks for the early '10s but realistically that's already happened as much as it's going to without completely reverting silhouettes and clothing construction, which is not going to happen. and also i don't think most of those looks were underappreciated at the time. the most frequent type of look that is oft derided by fans and underutilized by creative staff are the infrequent forays into science fiction concepts. songs like 100%'s beat and more famously vixx's error were quite controversial for no legitimate reason, although honestly i don't remember how beat was received since vixx overshadowed them significantly (justice for 100% actually. the beat styling is better), but considering nobody remembers 100% even existed i'll consider it underappreciated. tbh in the current styling landscape of kpop my beef is less with fans not appreciating a styling (bc fans know exactly jack shit about costuming and will accept anything, even obvious garbage) and more with stylists who are unwilling to actually flesh out a concept. this applies to pretty much everything but i see it most obviously in scifi (and fantasy/horror etc, anything that's not boy/girl next door or school) concepts. one of the few cbs that i do desperately want to have a go around again is obsession bc please god can i finally have ksoo and minseok on the song, but also it's a fantastic concept that got most of the way there, it just could have been so much more interesting out if the stylists weren't cowards.

[pennyellee]

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐗 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 - 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐞

LACRIMOSA | MYG MAFIA YANDERE AU

pairings: mafia leader!yoongi x f!reader genre: mafia!au, yandere au, historical au

summary: Their interlocking gaze served as a butterfly effect on his heart, stirring it to the core. She, in turn, only dreams to find a way to escape. But perchance, over time she might forcefully learn to love the man who has taken so much from her.

Thus unfolds a twisted tale of love and loss, of hope and despair, of life and death. The music reverberated through the dimly-lit streets. Tears of sorrow, weeping symphony - reflects the hurt, the scars that linger deep within and the wounds that never healed. Lacrimosa.

chapter warnings: minors dni 18+ | mafia au, dark!yoongi, mafia!yoongi, yandere, manipulation, possessive/obsessive behaviour, angst, religious references, implied age gap, hoseok-sshi being tired of yoongi, coercion, psychological manipulation, death, implied murder, mentions of cancer, strong language, misogyny, emotional distress, emotional manipulation, verbal confrontation, verbal abuse, suicidal ideation, "falling" from a horse, (partially fictional) lobotomy description, traditions of the clan, pledge, intimate themes, physical violence implied, psychological conflict, oral sex, fingering, handjob, vulnerability (if i forgot smth, pls i'm so sorrryy)

beta read by @chaoticpuff17

word count: 18,8K

disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, forbidden medical procedures, old social norms and traditions, which we do not condone.

author's note: WELL AT LAST INNIT? Y'all I swear I’m as impatient to put this out but also so nervous coz this one was a hard one ya know. I decided to split this into two parts, and perhaps if this would be only one part I would have to write “the end” which I’m still not contemptuous with soooo yeah. I can’t believe we are almost at the end of it all. I still haven't decided whether I will write two endings or not. The ending that I initially intended prolly won't be fancied and I definitely scrapped the open ending, but you will never know coz I won't tell ya more.

ANYWAY - for those who asked a lot about Y/N’s and Yoongi’s age gap, kudos for your patience. You can finally sleep in piece babies. Also, I have another fic that is setted in the world of CHAMPAGNE CONFETTI [now i’ll know if you’re actually reading these notes hihi] of which preview will come soon after this chapter, again, very excited to push it out finally AND, yes to all of you if you’re still reading this note - CHAMPAGNE CONFETTI [what a promo] will come around as soon as I’m finished with UNI this year. If yall be good I can pull out a preview out of my sleeve for Christmas coz that shit - well damn, just damn.

Massive thank you goes to @chaoticpuff17 who managed to beta read it almost right after it was finished coz that shit is looooooooong this time. I LOVE YOU BECCA 🥹🫧🩵

Love you all, p.

m.list previous

seele (n.) the soul, inner essence, or spirit

Her mind was constantly occupied with thoughts she wished to speak loud, but couldn’t. She wanted to warn, to tell the young souls that their minds were poisoned. Y/N’s heart was heavy in her chest each time she lay in bed next to him, letting him pull her close and hold her for the entirety of the night. And far the biggest sacrifice and risk she had to make was giving him her body when he desired her. At least partially. He was pacing things slowly at first- step by step. 

She never thought that in order to set herself free, she would have to give herself up first. However hard it was breaking her heart that she had to stoop so low in order to turn her life on a different path, had to be endured, sucked in.

She never understood what made her body so weak for him. Why did her mind scream for her to run even as her body yearned to be touched?

Yoongi’s hands moved over her body, igniting a fire that burned deep within her. She was supposed to feel like she was suffocating, drowning in the sea. But she could not let herself fail—not this time. 

His fingers traced the curve of her neck, sending shivers down her spine. His touch was gentle yet still so possessive. Yoongi’s lips brushed against her earlobe, and his warm breath reached the softness of her skin.

He leaned in, his lips capturing hers once more, his tongue plunging deep into her mouth. Y/N moaned, her body arching against his as he pulled her closer, his hands moving to cup her breasts.

He squeezed them gently, his thumbs brushing over her nipples, sending sparks flying through her body. Y/N shuddered, her hips grinding against his, her arousal building with every passing moment. His hands moved to the button of her skirt.

He popped the button, his fingers slipping inside to caress her warm, wet flesh. Y/N gasped, her body shuddering under his touch. Yoongi’s fingers moved faster, his thumb brushing over her clit.

Her hips bucked against his hand, her arousal building with every single moment. Yoongi’s fingers moved faster, his thumb circling her clit, his other fingers pumping in and out of her wet, pulsing core.

Y/N’s body shuddered, her orgasm building, her mind spinning with pleasure, his thumb pressing harder against her clit, sending her over the edge.

Y/N cried out, her body arching against Yoongi’s as she came, her orgasm washing over her in waves. Yoongi’s fingers never stopped, his thumb still circling her clit, prolonging her pleasure.

As she came down from her orgasm, Y/N felt Yoongi’s fingers slide out of her, his thumb pressing one last time against her clit before moving away. He pulled her closer, his lips capturing hers.

Yoongi’s kiss was deep and intense, his tongue dancing with hers as their naked bodies pressed against each other. She could feel his hardness against her thigh, his desire for her clear. But he knew that she was not ready. 

“I need you.” His voice was husky with pleasure and selfishness.  Yoongi pulled back slightly, his eyes burning with desire.

“You are so fucking beautiful—”  His eyes never left hers when he lowered down to lay soft kisses on her lower abdomen.

“—And so fucking mine.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat at Yoongi’s words. She could feel his warm breath against her skin as he continued to kiss her abdomen, his lips leaving a trail of heat and desire.

“Yoongi,” she whispered, her voice hoarse. Yoongi’s eyes locked onto her most intimate parts. He lowered his head, his tongue darting out to taste her. Y/N gasped at the sensation, her body arching against his as he explored her most sensitive areas. His tongue was warm and wet, his touch gentle, seductive. This only happened in one of her dreams and never did she imagine this would be once a reality.

As he continued to pleasure her, Y/N felt herself getting closer and closer to another orgasm. Her body trembled with pleasure, her breath catching in her throat as she reached the peak.

With a loud cry, Y/N came again, her body shaking against Yoongi’s as he continued to pleasure her. As she came down from her orgasm, Yoongi slowly stood up, his eyes never leaving hers. Y/N’s hands slid up Yoongi’s chest, her fingers digging into his skin. He reached down and began to undo his pants, his erection springing free, swollen with need. She knew what he expected of her, hence it was easier to just accept it and be done with it. 

“Can I? —” She asked, her voice trembling. She needs him to think she wants him just like he wants her. His eyes closed before he spoke with a husky voice.

“Please—” he choked out. He reached down and began to guide her hand onto his shaft, his fingers wrapping around hers to show her how to stroke him, feeling the heat and hardness of him. She could feel his pulse beating beneath her touch.

As she began to jerk him off, Y/N felt a some twisted sense of power and control. She could see the desire in Yoongi’s eyes and feel the need building within him. She increased her pace, her hand moving up and down his shaft in a rhythmic motion. Yoongi’s breath caught in his throat as Y/N continued to pleasure him. His eyes locked onto hers.

“Dove,” he groaned, his voice hoarse with desire. She could feel his body tensing, his need for release building. With a final stroke, Yoongi came, his orgasm washing over him hard, spurring the hot semen on her hand.

He did not last long, how could he when it was she pleasuring him?

The wedding of her sister was coming dangerously close, days went by rather quickly when there were no fights to fight or battles to win.

“Did you think of a gift for your husband, my dear?” An elderly female voice echoed on the terrace as she was sipping her tea. It was still not the warmest weather but the snow was by far almost gone and the sun was peeking through the white clouds. It was a perfect day to ride a horse.

“A gift?” Y/N squinted her eyebrows, not having a single clue as to what her mother was referring to.

“The day of his birth is arriving soon.” The younger female almost choked on her herbal tea, she still kept drinking as Yoongi might be taking the activities in their bedroom slow for now, she does not know when he will stop being patient. The herbs will kill any seeds that could be planted in her womb. 

Y/N’s mind raced, her fingers tightening around the delicate porcelain cup. The bitter taste of the tea was a stark contrast to the sweetness she was expected to embody. The idea of giving a gift to the man who had taken everything from her felt like a cruel joke, a twisted irony that only deepened her resentment.

“A gift,” she repeated, the words almost foreign on her tongue. Her mother’s voice, though soft, held the weight of generations of expectations, yet Y/N could sense some undertone, a message to be conveyed. Expectations that Y/N had always felt burdened by, but now they were suffocating her, pressing down on her like a relentless tide.

“Yes, a gift,” her mother continued, oblivious to the storm brewing behind Y/N’s eyes. “Something meaningful. You must show him your gratitude, your… affection.” She hesitated on the last word, perhaps sensing the tension in her daughter but brushing it off as the nerves of a newlywed. After all, this was the life she had been groomed for—submission, obedience, and silent suffering disguised as devotion.

Until she got the taste of freedom.

Y/N nodded mechanically, her mind already drifting away from the conversation. Her mother’s voice became a distant murmur, drowned out by the rush of her thoughts. How could she possibly give him something meaningful when every part of her being still wanted to run away from him? When every night she spent in his arms felt like a betrayal of herself?

The sun’s warmth on her skin felt almost mocking, a false promise of comfort in a world that had turned cold and unyielding. The thought of his birthday, of celebrating the man who held her captive in a gilded cage, was almost too much to bear. She felt her resolve slipping, the carefully constructed facade of the dutiful wife threatening to crack.

But she couldn’t let it break, not yet. Not when she was so close to finding a way out. She had sacrificed too much, endured too much, to falter now.

“I’ll think of something, Ma” Y/N finally replied, her voice calm, betraying nothing of the turmoil within. Her mother smiled, satisfied, and turned to gaze out at the garden. Y/N understood her words clearly. She followed her gaze, but all she saw was the vast emptiness that mirrored her own heart.

Her eyes narrowed down to her younger sister, watching her mount a horse, Taehyung by her side just like he had been for the past months. Her father is not nor never will be happy with both hers and her sister’s elopements, not that it’s going to matter soon.

The sight stirred something bitter in Y/N, a pang of resentment mixed with a twisted sense of protectiveness. She spent days and nights wishing she could reverse Xiaoli’s fate.

“She has changed,” her mother spoke again. Y/N’s eyes closed whilst she breathed out a loud sigh.

“She has, indeed,” Y/N muttered back. If she can call prefrontal lobotomy ‘a change’, then yes, Xiaoli has changed very much so.

“Why can’t you be happy for her?” Her mother’s voice, gentle but insistent, grated against Y/N’s nerves like sandpaper.

“Are you happy for me, Ma?” Y/N countered quickly. The question hung in the air, heavy and charged, like the tense silence before a storm. Y/N’s mother hesitated, her composure faltering for a fraction of a second before she regained her poise. Her eyes flickered, a shadow of something unreadable passing through them, but it was gone before Y/N could grasp it.

“Your happiness,” her mother began, carefully choosing her words, “has always been… complicated.”

“Complicated,” Y/N echoed, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. It was a diplomatic way of saying that her happiness had never been a priority. In their world, happiness was a luxury, often sacrificed for the sake of duty, appearances, and survival.

“Do you think I do not know?” Y/N continued, her voice low, edged with the frustration she had suppressed for far too long. “Do you think I haven’t noticed how you and father always looked at me with a kind of pity? As if I’m some tragic figure in a story you would rather not tell?”

Her mother’s face remained impassive, but Y/N could see the tension in the way she held herself, the slight tremor in her hands as they rested in her lap. “I have always wanted the best for you,” her mother said, but the words felt rehearsed, as if she had said them a thousand times before and had long since stopped believing them.

“Then tell me, Ma,” Y/N pressed, leaning forward, her voice dropping to a whisper, “what is the best for me? Is it to be locked in a marriage where every night I lose a piece of myself? Or is it to watch as my sister being expe-” Y/N stopped herself from slipping such information out.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she realized how close she had come to revealing the unspeakable truth. She quickly clamped her mouth shut, biting back the words that had almost spilt out. Her mother’s eyes narrowed slightly, suspicion flickering in their depths, but Y/N forced herself to remain calm, to steady her racing heart.

Her mother’s gaze bored into her, searching for the secret Y/N had almost exposed, but Y/N refused to let it show. She couldn’t afford to slip, not now, not when everything was hanging by such a fragile thread. But her mother’s finger that softly tapped next to her ear told her that she knows more than she shows. They are listening. They always do.

The elder woman sighed just like her daughter a few moments ago. “You started to look happier these past weeks, I just thought that maybe, just maybe you’ve found your peace in your life.” The older woman continued the conversation like no other message was sent her way.

She couldn’t bring herself to meet her mother’s eyes, afraid of what she might see reflected there—pity, disappointment, or worse, a recognition of the truth Y/N was so desperately trying to hide.

Her mother reached out, placing a hand gently on Y/N’s arm. The touch was meant to be comforting, but it only served to remind Y/N of how disconnected she felt, and how far she had drifted from the person she used to be. “You deserve happiness, Y/N. Real happiness. And I want that for you, more than anything.”

Y/N felt a lump rise in her throat, choking back the bitter retort that threatened to spill out. Happiness was a luxury she couldn’t afford, not when every day was a battle to keep herself from falling apart, to protect the one person she had left in this world.

“I am trying, Ma,” she said instead, her voice barren, trying to find some semblance of peace, some way to reconcile the choices she had made. But that peace seemed as distant as the stars, something she could see but never touch.

Her mother gave her arm a gentle squeeze before letting go. “You have always been so strong, Y/N. I know life has not been easy for you, but you have survived so much. I just hope that one day, you will not have to pretend anymore.”

Y/N nodded, unable to trust herself to speak. Her mother’s words were well-intentioned, but they felt like salt in a wound that had never fully healed. She wanted to tell her mother the truth, to explain the depths of her despair, the weight of the secrets she carried, but she could not. The risk was too great, the consequences too dire.

So instead, she buried the truth deeper, locking it away in the darkest corner of her mind. She would have to continue pretending, for now, until she could find a way out—if there even was one.

“Nonetheless, do well to remember something for me—” her head turned to face her mother once more, awaiting what else she could possibly say to her.

“You are the queen here, child.”

Y/N did not understand her mother’s words at the time, but she recalled their reunion all those months ago, hearing her say those words again.

Be a queen.

“He is getting better—” his voice resonated near her. She did not turn to face him until the chair next to her made an uncomfortable noise. He was far too busy today, busier than usual. He greeted her mother with respect each time. 

Her mother is not the enemy here, nor she ever was. Yet, she is being watched with such precise carefulness by all the Min worshipers, maids, soldiers - everyone. Wang Zemo was the unspoken enemy that her husband is secretly planning to eliminate.

They are not speaking about that sensitive subject, yet Y/N knows that it is going to happen no matter what she thinks about her father. Unless—

“How do you feel today?” he asked.

She finally turned to face him, her eyes searching for any sign of the concern she had grown used to. But today, something was different. There was an unfamiliar hardness in his gaze, a flicker of something she could not quite place.

“I am fine,” she replied, her voice steady despite the unease growing inside her. “Just a bit tired from last night’s work.”

“There is a jewellery showroom I would like to visit with you if you feel well enough—”

The jewellery store was a haven of elegance, with its sparkling displays and refined ambience. It was a place where time seemed to stand still, each piece of jewellery capturing a moment of beauty and grace. Today, however, an air of tension hung over the store, palpable even among the glistening gems and polished glass cases.

Y/N could sense all the stares angled at them, all the whispers were heard by her ears, yet Yoongi remained unbothered. She on the other hand felt uneasy by such attention. After all, it is not every day they welcome such a powerful man in their store. Such a dangerous man.

She sensed something was amiss, her own worries momentarily forgotten as she watched the store’s manager, conversing in hushed tones with an unknown man.

“Why are we here?” She asked him with a sudden turn he did not expect. His demeanour was unreadable, as always, but she hoped for some clarity in his response. Yoongi looked at her, his gaze steady and reassuring.

“Your Eomma said you would fancy a new set of pearls like hers.” He smiled softly, caressing her cheek with his right hand, Y/N sensing the balance of warmth of it and the coldness of his rings he had worn.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her scepticism evident. “But my birthday is not for another month. Why so soon?”

Yoongi chuckled, a sound that seemed to ease the tension in the room just a bit. “Consider it an early surprise. You can wear them at the wedding—”

“Your birthday is coming, we should talk about that instead—” she interrupted him, her tone still possessed a mix of frustration and confusion. Why would they talk about her birthday which is not for another month?

Yoongi’s smile faded slightly, and he glanced around the store, his eyes momentarily clouded with concern before he masked it again. “I just wanted to do something special for you, that is all. You have been doing so well, Dove.”

By doing well means, no tantrums, no screams, no broken vases thrown his way and they are living as a husband and wife, not just in the name.  It was his way of acknowledging the fragile peace they had managed to maintain, the delicate balance that kept their world from shattering. He was selfish enough to consider himself making progress with her.

Y/N sighed, feeling the weight of his words. “What would you fancy for your birthday?” She asked carefully.

Yoongi paused, a hint of surprise flickering across his features. He chuckled a little before he leaned down to press his lips softly against hers for a moment, his hand slipping down to her belly.

“You know,” he began, choosing his words carefully, “I’ve been thinking… about something we already talked about—”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “What do you mean?” Her gaze slipped down to his large hand on her belly, awaiting the worst.

He took a breath, his gaze steady as he looked into her eyes, while his forehead rested on hers. “I know I said that it will not help anything, but I would love to have—”

“Not here—” she said way too quickly, her voice tinged with urgency. “Let us not talk about it here, okay?”

His expression shifted, understanding, but a bit sad as his first thoughts led him to rejection.

“I am sorry, this is not the right place, —” he replied, his voice lowering to a whisper as if he feared that even speaking about it might attract unwanted attention. “But I want you to know it is on my mind, Dove.”

Y/N felt a flutter in her chest, a conflict brewing within her. The idea of a child, of a future that seemed so distant. 

“Can we talk at home?” She asked carefully. The tension in his shoulders eased, she wanted to talk about it, and his heart started to beam.

“Deal. Let us just find you those pearls for now, hm?” A little peck on his lips was enough confirmation that she was more than ready to pick up some jewellery and leave.

As they moved through the store, the vibrant displays of jewellery momentarily distracted them from the weight of their conversation. Y/N couldn’t shake the thought of Yoongi’s words, though. She knew she needed to play her role. However, she was not ready to make such a big sacrifice for the taste of freedom. She had a different scenario in her head.

“What do you think about these pearls?” She gestured towards a stunning strand that caught the light just right, reflecting an array of colours.

Yoongi’s gaze followed her gesture, and he leaned closer to examine the pearls. “They are beautiful. They remind me of you—classic and timeless beauty,” he said, his tone playful but sincere.

She laughed softly, the tension of their earlier conversation easing. “You just say that because I am wearing a white dress.”

“Maybe,” he admitted, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes. “But I mean it.” He smiled at her, his eyes reflecting the love he felt for her with the hope that perhaps when they returned home, they could explore the depths of their future dreams together. Perhaps.

The private dining room was filled with the warm glow of candlelight, the scent of delicious food wafting through the air. The large table was set with an assortment of dishes, each more appetizing than the last.

Y/N glanced around, taking in the sight of the family gathered together, a rare moment these days when everyone is put to work. Each member of the family had a role to play, each one integral to the operation and survival of the Min clan.

She and Seokjin run around the hospital doing what they can to heal and help those in need. These past weeks were especially busy after several raids on the warehouses the Min clan owns.

Taehyung worked his magic, covering every single trace that would make the whole syndicate fall.

Jungkook, seated beside Jimin who has been running the hotel perfectly, took a deep breath. “The Min soldiers are ready. We have increased patrols around the warehouses and fortified our defences. I have got the best man on it, Yoongi-hyung. We will not let anything happen again like last time.”

“Yoongi nodded, his expression serious. “Good. We cannot afford any more breaches—”

Jungkook nodded firmly. “I will.”

Hoseok leaned back in his chair, his usually cheerful demeanour replaced with a hard edge. “I have been tracking down leads on who’s responsible for the raids. We have collected some old debts and sent a clear message.”

“It has been happening way too often lately,—” Namjoon cleared his throat, bringing the attention back to the whole table.

“It is the peak of the trade season, innit?” Yoongi mused out loud. Not bothered by that at the moment, he knows he can rely on his men. His wife sticking the food around with her chopsticks, pretending to eat from the barely filled marble dish bothered him more.

They have yet to return to their conversation but that is not what occupies her mind now. Yoongi yet again wondered whether her silence meant that she was considering what he said or being tortured by that thought.

“How are things over at the sanatorium?” The right-hand man raised the question when he cleared his throat, hoping to get the young Buin to talk about the sector that was entrusted to her. Under the watchful eye of Doctor Kim Seokjin.

Yoongi, seated at the head of the table, glanced at her with a small smile. Despite the tension of the past weeks, moments like this reminded him of why they fought so hard. He reached under the table, finding her hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. Then, with a gentle, almost tender gesture, he picked up a piece of grilled fish and placed it on her plate.

“We have zero deaths so far, thanks to—” Seokjin’s voice became a blur when she noticed his hand squeezing hers.

“Eat up, Dove—” Yoongi said softly, ignoring Seokjin’s report, his eyes filled with concern. Xiaoli looked around the table with wide eyes, still getting used to the boisterous dynamics of the group.

“Are you feeling fine, Unnie?” She pried, eating a piece of kimchi while doing so.  “You have been working a lot lately.”

“Just peachy, pumpkin,” Y/N replied with a bright smile, trying to mask the fatigue she felt. She noticed the way Yoongi’s brow furrowed slightly at her response, a subtle reminder of their shared worries, but she chose to brush it off.

Hoseok, sitting across from her, leaned in with a teasing grin. “Peachy? You have been working more hours than Jin-hyung at the hospital, Buin—” he expressed his concern.

“And I love working—”  Y/N began, her voice light, but she was quickly interrupted by Jin, who feigned horror.

“Yes, yes and yes, that does not change that you should take a little break.” Jin insisted, his tone dramatic as he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms.

“Oh shut up, you do need me, Dr Kim.”  Y/N shot back playfully, her smile growing wider as she tried to lighten the mood.

“Touché,” Jin replied, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “But that does not mean you should work yourself into the ground. You are not invincible, Buin.”

Jungkook leaned forward, a teasing glint in his eye. “Yeah, the last thing we need is for our favourite sister to pass out in the middle of surgery because she did not eat breakfast!” He noticed. Of course he did. 

Y/N rolled her eyes at him playfully. “I can manage just fine. I am not collapsing anytime soon. I promise!”

“Not with that attitude,” Namjoon said, leaning back with an amused expression. “But let us not test the limits of your endurance, okay?”

“Eat up, Dove. No more arguments,” Yoongi said firmly, though his voice softened at the end.

Y/N looked at the fish, then back up at him. “I will, but you all need to stop treating me like I am fragile, at least I am not that fragile anymore—” her voice fell down at the end of the sentence.

Nobody forgot, even though it seemed like they did. The scar on her neck is yet to fade and smooth into her skin. Before she managed to slip to those thoughts, Jimin’s voice echoed through the room.

“How about a spa day, girls?” Y/N chuckled lightly, glancing around the table, endorsing that kind of domesticity. But when she looks at her sister and sees a woman she never was before, it makes her heart ache.

October through November 1938

Fresh off the boat from China, her wide-eyed innocence was observable by many others. The scent of hay mingled with the musky aroma of leather and sweat as she walked through the stables, admiring the majestic kladrubers behind the iron bars. Reaching through them, her hands deftly brushed against their sleek coats.

She came here to forget about all the screaming that was happening behind closed doors of the room that was “politely” offered to them. Her father wanted to come home, with her sister preferably, but the young Korean Kkangpae just had to be so madly in love with Y/N that he was not willing to let her just go. At least, that is what Xiaoli observed from behind the scenes.

The younger sister did not know how it came to this nor what was his business with her father, and she will most likely never know the whole truth nor she will remember. She was not like her sister Y/N. Xiaoli knew very well that she must marry a wealthy mafia lord, a strong ally to her father at best. Hence, she made her peace with it since the first time she bled and became a woman.

The time was ticking and knowing that Y/N got to get higher education shifted the focus on her instead. Xiaoli was moulded to be the perfect, obedient and dutiful wife Y/N would never become. Not because she was not capable but because her sister had different ambitions. Ambitions that Xiaoli believed would kill her and many others. And once, she understood them. That proved to be no longer the case.

Y/N wanted to be a doctor, she wanted to help people, heal people and Xiaoli understood that was the persona she grew in.

She admired her sister for her strength and resilience. It would not take the man her sister is engaged to a second more to charm Xiaoli - in the right circumstances. He was handsome, successful, and certainly very intelligent as he managed to put the whole Triad on their feet by swaying Y/N.

The scar made him even more intriguing in Xiaoli’s eyes. There was something about the respect that vibrated through the room once he stepped in. She was not allowed to attend the meeting or meet her sister that day, and per her mother’s words, ‘it would only hurt her seeing you’.

Well, it definitely hurt Xiaoli. They spent very little time together these past years and she missed her dearly. The happiness and pride she felt on the day Y/N finally graduated was short-lived; their aunt passed away and even she was not stupid enough to not realise what it meant.

Sitting at the breakfast table in their family mansion back in Hong Kong, a rageful scream reverberated through the walls. The news that Y/N took the chance and ran for the hills.

“She barely reaches your chin, how come you were not able to stop her!”

The echoes of the scream seemed to linger in the opulent dining room, bouncing off the intricate wooden panelling and crystal chandeliers.

Xiaoli’s mother stood at the head of the table, her face twisted with fury and disbelief. The usually composed matriarch of the family was unrecognizable, her controlled demeanour shattered by the news of Y/N’s escape.

Xiaoli’s father, Wang Zemo sat in his chair with a deep frown etched on his face, his hands clenched into fists. He was a man of few words, but his silence was more intimidating than any outburst. The tension in the room was suffocating, each family member drowning in their own thoughts and fears.

The Lieutenant stood at the door frame to the dining room they were gathered in. Trembling under Wang Zemo’s hard glance.

“We did not think she would go that far,” he muttered, his voice shaky, afraid to lose his head. What he meant is that they trusted her sister to not do anything like that.

Xiaoli’s heart ached back then. She knew Y/N had been unhappy with the arranged marriage, but she hadn’t realized the depths of her despair. She admired her sister’s courage to defy their parents and the entire Triad’s expectations, but she also feared for her safety. Running away from such powerful families was no small feat, and the repercussions could be deadly.

“Stupid girl—” Wang Zemo scoffed at his oldest child’s incompetence to meet the expectations.

“She jeopardized everything!” Wang Zemo repeated, his voice rising with each syllable. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the edge of the table, the wood creaking under the pressure.

Xiaoli’s mother placed a calming hand on Wang Zemo’s shoulder, though her expression was one of thinly veiled panic.

“We need to stay calm,” she urged, her voice steady but strained. “Anger will not bring her back.” Wang Zemo shook off her hand, standing up abruptly.

He turned to the Lieutenant, his eyes narrowing. “What have you done to find her?”

The Lieutenant stammered, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. “We have mobilized all available men. We are taking every possible lead, and every contact she might have. But... but she has been very careful, sir. It is almost like she planned this way ahead..”

‘Of course she did,’ Xiaoli thought, feeling a mix of pride and sorrow for her sister. Y/N had always been meticulous and determined. She would not have run away on a whim; she would have made sure she had a solid plan.

“Not good enough,” Wang Zemo growled. “I want results. And I want them now—”

“Your fucking failure reflects on all of us!” 

Xiaoli could feel the tears threatening to spill over, but she blinked them back, refusing to show any weakness. She had to be strong, for her sister and for herself.

Xiaoli’s mother flinched at the vulgarity, her mask of composure slipping for just a moment. The Lieutenant’s face turned a shade paler, and he nodded vigorously, desperate to appease his furious boss.

“Father,” Xiaoli spoke up, her voice surprisingly firm. “Maybe we should consider why Y/N ran away. Forcing her back might just not be the answer.”

Wang Zemo’s eyes snapped to her, his expression one of disbelief mixed with anger. “Are you questioning me, Xiaoli?”

“No, Father,” she said quickly but then gathered her courage. “I just think... there must be a better way. Y/N is smart. She would not do this without a good reason. Maybe we should try to understand her, rather than just bring her back by force.” She rephrased herself.

A heavy silence filled the room, everyone waiting for Lǎodà’s reaction. He stared at Xiaoli for a long moment before he finally spoke, his voice surprisingly calm but dangerously low.

“You do not have the same sinful intentions as your sister, daughter, right?”

“Of course not.” She forced a smile.

The conversation ended before it managed to even start. Xiaoli’s voice was never heard once she spoke up, and the most devastating was that not even her older sister could advise their father or her mother. The only woman that the hot-headed Wang Zemo ever listened to was their dear auntie, but she is no longer here to prevent him from the madness he is planning to do.

There is no one to make Wang Zemo see reason anymore.

The warm sun filtered through the slats of the stable, casting playful shadows across the hay-strewn floor. There he stood, at the very edge, her heart racing as she took in the sight of him. His strong form bent over one of the kladrubers, grooming the horse with gentle precision. Xiaoli quietly watched him from a distance, adored in tailored high-waisted trousers, in a rich earth tone, paired with a fitted, button-down shirt. His choice of leather riding boots suggests functionality and style, perfect for a day at the stables.

Xiaoli’s heart raced as she observed Kim Taehyung’s deft movements. She admired not just his looks but the quiet confidence he exuded—a stark contrast to the chaos of her family. His demeanour and interaction with his brothers.

They have been talking. 

Matter of fact, they have been talking daily. Sometimes from far away, it felt like they were talking more than casually. Xiaoli cherished the moments she spent with Taehyung, often finding solace in their conversations at the stables, sun room or dining hall.

They would talk about everything—his aspirations, her dreams, the horses they adored. He shared stories of his family’s dynamics, highlighting the playful banter with his brothers, while she opened up about the weight of her own familial expectations, carefully steering the discussions to remain light-hearted. But he noticed her dissatisfaction. 

Taehyung looked up, a warm smile spreading across his face, instantly lighting up his sharp features when he saw her standing near him.

“Hey there, angel” he said, his tone inviting, “Want to help?”

Xiaoli nodded, her pulse quickening. As she moved beside him, the connection sparked an unexpected flutter in her chest. There was something about him that felt safe, a reprieve from her tumultuous life.

Their fingers brushed as they reached for the grooming brush at the same time, and Taehyung chuckled softly.

“I don’t bite–”

Xiaoli’s cheeks flushed, and she laughed lightly, feeling an ease she had not known in ages. The playful banter continued, their laughter echoing softly against the stable walls, and for a moment, the weight of her family’s expectations and her father’s wrath slipped away.

“Would you give me the honour to accompany you riding today, angel?” Xiaoli hesitated, glancing down at her hands.

“I wish I could, Taehyung-sshi, but I cannot today—” Taehyung’s smile faltered for just a moment, but he quickly masked it with understanding.

“What is the matter, dear?” Xiaoli bit her lip, avoiding his gaze.

“It is just... my father’s been on edge lately, and I don’t want to risk making things worse. Truth to be told, he is not very keen on spending my leisure time with you.”

Taehyung’s brow furrowed with concern, and he took a step closer, his voice softening.

“I do not fancy your father either, but he also does not fancy any of my clan.”

Xiaoli nodded, understanding the unspoken tension that simmered beneath their lighthearted exchanges. “I know, but that makes it all the more complicated.”

He leaned closer, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. “You deserve to enjoy yourself, regardless of what he thinks. Life is too short for shadows.” He mused.

“I know—” she started, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Spend it with me.” 

He said softly but rather abruptly, closing the distance between them. Her eyes searched for any signs of foul play but found none. Her breathing became shaky and her mind started to spin around all the scenarios that her father would be starring in as the villain. Xiaoli’s heart raced at his words, caught between desire and duty.

“What?—” She asked, shocked. Xiaoli took a deep breath, the weight of the moment heavy on her chest.

“Taehyung, I appreciate how you feel. I truly do. But I must be honest with you.” He tilted his head, a flicker of concern crossing his face.

“I think of you as a friend, someone…someone I can confide in, but…but nothing more,” she continued stammering, although her voice remained gentle. “With everything going on, I need to focus on my family and my responsibilities. I thought you understood that–”

Taehyung’s expression softened, and he nodded slowly, masking his disappointment and internal anger.

“Friends it is.” He said through gritted teeth. The moment hung in the air, tinged with unspoken emotions, yet Xiaoli felt a bittersweet relief wash over her. In a world where love could be both a luxury and a burden, she valued the connection they shared, however fleeting it was.

Unfortunately for her, Kim Taehyung’s intentions are rooted far too deep to be classified as friendship.

“Tomorrow, we shall go take this boy for a ride, what you say, angel?”

Taehyung’s voice dripped with a charm that both thrilled and unnerved her.

Xiaoli hesitated, a flicker of unease creeping into her heart. “I—”

“Come on, it shall be fun! Just you and me,” he urged, his eyes glinting with a mix of excitement and something deeper, something she couldn’t quite place.

She took a breath, sensing the weight of his expectations.

“Of course–”

The flickering candlelight cast long shadows on the walls, the quiet ticking of a clock echoing in the background. She had written to Y/N again. Despite everything, despite the unspoken rules the Korean Kkangpae established - as per Taehyung’s words.

She had a strong feeling that something was going to go down the hill, and she expressed this in her plea letters to her sister who is being held in a place called the Sanctuary. Nobody ever knew where this place was hidden. Hidden from all those who wished for the downfall of the Min empire the scarred leader was extending slowly.

The words flowed onto the page, frantic and desperate - whatever happens, I shall not be able to control it. I feel like the choices will be taken away from me, dear sister.

But as she folded the paper, her heart ached. She had no idea if she could send it. No idea if she would ever be able to.

A soft knock at the door startled her, and before she could even respond, Taehyung entered, his presence filling the room like a storm. His sharp gaze immediately fell on the letters.

“We have talked about this, Xiaoli, you know that that is forbidden,” he asked, his voice smooth, almost too calm. The Taehyung she was seeing now was different from the one she met when she first laid foot onto the Min grounds. He has changed, and it was her rejection that led him to show his true colours to her.

Xiaoli’s heart skipped a beat. “I just wish to tell her I miss her,” she whispered, almost pleading. His hands quickly unfolded the paper she had laid in front of her, reading the words. That is when Xiaoli knew she was destined to be doomed.

“She is my sister, Taehyung. I cannot just abandon her like this.”

“You can,” he said, his voice suddenly hard. “And you will for now. She needs to adjust to her life as Buin of this clan.”

Xiaoli’s breath caught in her throat, her pulse quickening at the mention of Buin, the title that now belonged to her sister, the role that would tether Y/N even deeper to the Kkangpae.

“I can see that you are continuing this insanity that your dear sister exhibits too. Disobedience must be running in your family, but we shall change that soon.” 

Taehyung stepped closer, his presence engulfing her, the scent of his cologne overpowering the faint smell of the letter’s ink. His fingers brushed the paper on the desk, now crumpled and discarded, and Xiaoli’s breath hitched at the coldness in his touch.

“What are you talking about again Taehyung? I thought we were done speaking about this topic.” Taehyung’s gaze sharpened, his eyes narrowing as he stepped closer, the air thickening with the tension between them.

“I shall see you in the morning, and I hope that a good sleep will bring you to your senses.” He said, his voice lowering, a cold warning hanging in the silence. Xiaoli’s heart raced, a wave of frustration and helplessness flooding through her.

“I will not let you break me. No is a no—” she raised her voice when he was about to leave the room. She lifted her chin, refusing to back down.

“Nor will you break my sister, mark my words Kim Taehyung, and be sure to tell them to that leader of yours.”

For a moment, there was silence.

Taehyung’s lips curled into a cold smile.

“You love me, Xiaoli. You do—” his bold and explicit words sent a tidal wave through her body.

“The sooner you accept it, the sooner you can live without the weight of that foolishness.”

“Good morning, angel.”

Truth to be spoken, Xiaoli was afraid to not come and a part of her knew that he would have his way nonetheless. Today, she was determined to put an end to Kim Taehyung's attempts to groom her.

Before she could reply, Xiaoli felt his lips brushing against hers, soft yet demanding. The world around them faded, leaving only the warmth of their connection, the lingering tension of unspoken words. She found herself responding,telling herself, just this once, curiosity mingling with a twinge of fear. She did not understand what was happening. Did she not make her standing in their relationship clear last night? His vulgarity shocked her. 

The air was crisp and cool in November, a hint of frost glimmering on the ground as Xiaoli and Taehyung stood close in the stable, the warmth of their earlier kiss lingering like a sweet echo. The horses shifted in their stalls, unaware of the tension that had just shifted between the two of them.

The next moment, she was observing his muscular hands saddling the horse for her, still not understanding what happened. Too shocked to speak, to even comment or reply good morning to him.

Taehyung’s posture was relaxed, but beneath the surface, an insidious obsession twisted within him. He guided his horse closer to hers, a gleam in his eye that hinted at the darkness lurking beneath his charming façade.

“Have you thought about my proposal, my beloved?” He asked, curious. His proposal was rather sudden and the change in him very obvious. He was not hiding his feelings for her anymore. At least that is how he perceived the situation.

“Taehyung,-” she called out softly, watching as he approached, his breath misting in the cold air. His usual confident stride seemed tempered by the season’s sombre beauty.

“I am not sure if I can fully embrace this. I told you so–” she admitted, her gaze unwavering. He lifted his eyesight to meet hers. Taehyung, mounted on his sleek black horse, maintained a close pace beside Xiaoli, who rode a chestnut mare. The crisp air was filled with the sounds of hoofbeats crunching through the snow.

“Do you feel that?” Taehyung asked, his breath visible in the frosty air. “It is as if the world is ours alone.”

Xiaoli glanced at him, warmth blooming in her chest. “Nature is certainly beautiful,” she replied, the thrill of the ride mixing with the tension that still lingered after their kiss.

“Just like you,” he said, the sincerity in his voice making her heart race. “I want to share moments like this with you forever.”

“Taehyung…” She whispered, her disapproval evident in her voice.

“Xiaoli, beloved—” he said, voice smooth yet edged with intensity, “imagine a life where you belong to me, where no one can take you away. You would never have to worry about your father or anyone else. Just us.” His smile was wide, but there was a predator’s hunger behind it.

“Did we not share good times together, angel?” She shifted uncomfortably in her saddle, feeling the weight of his gaze.

“Taehyung, this is not what I want. I already have obligations—” 

He interrupted, his tone sharpening.

“I can become your obligation, would you not fancy that over marrying a stranger?” He stressed out.

“We have our lives, our families, and that kiss—”

“Was it not real, my dear?” he interrupted, a spark of frustration flashing in his eyes.

“Uncalled for!” She raised her voice.

“You cannot just kiss me, Taehyung, we talked about us being friends just yesterday, did we not?” she said, trying to find the right words. Taehyung’s expression softened, and he nodded slowly, acknowledging the weight of her words.

But as they rode deeper into the woods, Xiaoli could not shake the feeling that something had shifted—not just between her and Taehyung, but within herself. The kiss replayed in her mind, its intensity causing her to question her feelings.

The snowflakes swirled around them, creating an enchanting atmosphere that felt almost dreamlike. But beneath the surface, Xiaoli knew this was not going to end well for her.

“Is this yet another strategic move of your Kkangpae?” She blurted out. Taehyung’s expression darkened at her words, the playful glint in his eyes replaced by something more intense.

“And if it is?” he cut in, anger and hurt lacing his tone. “I am offering you everything, and you are turning me down for what? Some semblance of duty?”

“The future I want does not include you!” she cried, her voice trembling. They cannot be friends, she has decided that it will be better to lose him than fall in line. The reality of their situation hung heavily between them, each word slicing deeper than the last.

“You do not have to part with your sister ever again!” Her mind stops for a fleeting moment, thinking about this for some peculiar proposal.

“You think this will make me fall in love with you, do you not?” she spat, the bitterness on her tongue sharp enough to cut through the tension in the room.

His lips curled into a cold, controlled smile, the kind of smile that made her skin crawl. “Love,” he murmured, getting closer until their faces were mere inches apart. “Love will come, in time. Whether you want it or not.”

Her body tensed, every fibre of her being fighting against the reality of it all. This is not love, she thought, her mind screaming with the agony of the truth.

Taehyung’s eyes narrowed, a mix of desperation and determination flaring within them. “You do not even know what you want yet, Xiaoli. You are running from a feeling that can change everything–”

“You make me feel alive,” he continued, searching her eyes for understanding.

“Taehyung, I cannot—” her tears spilt over, her voice losing its power.

“Just trust me,” he urged, his fingers brushing her arm. “Give in.”

“What are you—”

In a swift motion, he pushed his horse forward, pressing against her side. Xiaoli instinctively jerked her reins, trying to regain control. The sudden jolt sent her horse rearing back, and she lost her balance, falling hard to the ground. Pain exploded in her head as it connected with the earth, a sharp crack reverberating in the stillness around them.

Taehyung dismounted swiftly, panic lacing his features for a fleeting moment that luck was not on his side, that she fell harder than he wanted her to. But before you could blink it was all replaced by a chilling calmness.

“Everything shall be alright, my beloved. I shall make it all better,” he murmured, his voice soft yet chillingly possessive.

“I love you.”

The world spun into a blur of pain and darkness, Xiaoli’s last coherent thought was the cold touch of Taehyung’s hand, his voice a chilling promise in her ear.

When she woke, her head throbbed with a dull, persistent ache. Her surroundings were unfamiliar, a stark contrast to the snowy forest. The room was sterile, the air heavy with the scent of antiseptics. Her body felt restrained, bound to a cold, metal table. Panic surged through her veins as she struggled to move, but the restraints held firm.

Blinking slowly, she tried to make sense of her surroundings, the sterile white walls closing in on her. Kim Seokjin, one of the seven, stood at the foot of the bed, his face an unreadable mask. Dressed in a pristine white coat, he exuded an unsettling calmness. The tools of his trade lay meticulously arranged on a nearby table.

Xiaoli knew that he was the family’s doctor, but she did not understand what she was doing in his practice.

“Doctor Kim... what am I doing here?" Her voice was a fragile whisper when she addressed the older male, barely audible over the pounding of her heart.

He approached her slowly, his eyes cold and clinical. “There is no need to be afraid, dear. I will make it all better for you now.”

Strapped to the bed, Xiaoli’s attempts to move were futile. Panic surged through her veins as Seokjin prepared the instruments, his movements deliberate and precise. Tears streamed down her cheeks, the horror of her situation sinking in with every passing second.

“Is this what you did to your fiancée?!” Xiaoli remembers the talks of the young female kicking and screaming any moment she had the chance to, just to make it harder for Doctor Kim in public, making everybody know that she was here against her will.

Seokjin paused, a flicker of emotion crossing his otherwise stoic face. For a brief moment, his eyes softened, memories perhaps surfacing in his mind. But the moment was fleeting, replaced quickly by his professional detachment.

“Her thoughts were just as confused as yours,” he murmured, almost to himself. “But in the end, it was necessary. For her, and for us.”

The drastic change in her demeanour did not go unnoticed, yet everybody chose to ignore that, calling it her “enlightenment.”

Xiaoli’s heart raced faster, her breaths coming in quick, shallow gasps. “No, please. You do not have to do this. I can... I can leave. I shall not tell anyone that this ever happened.”

“You would leave your dear older sister here when we are offering you life within our ranks?”

His words struck a nerve, the mention of her sister pulling at Xiaoli’s deepest fears. “My sister…,” she stammered, her mind racing with conflicting emotions. She couldn’t abandon her, but she couldn’t accept this twisted fate either. Y/N would want her to fight this.

Seokjin’s eyes hardened, his patience thinning. “This is not a negotiation, Xiaoli. Your sister is safe, and she will remain so as long as you comply.”

In that unfortunate situation, Xiaoli did not know that there was no way that they would do something to Y/N, how could they? She ought to be the queen of them all. They cannot risk it going the wrong way.

A sob escaped her lips, the weight of her predicament crashing down on her. “Please, Doctor Kim. There must be another way.”

“You sound just like her. Your pleas are almost identical—” Seokjin’s expression softened, but only slightly.

“There is not. This is for your own good and for the good of the family. You will understand in time that Taehyung-sshi is the best thing that could ever come your way, child.”

Xiaoli’s tears flowed freely as Seokjin moved closer, the cold metal of his instruments glinting under the harsh lights. Her mind raced, searching for any possible escape, but the reality of her situation was inescapable.

“Please...,” she whispered one last time, her voice breaking.

Seokjin’s hand rested gently on her forehead, a mockery of comfort. “Hush now, Xiaoli. It will all be over soon.”

As the procedure began, Xiaoli’s cries echoed in the sterile room, a haunting symphony of despair. “Please...,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “I cannot do this.”

Seokjin approached her with a syringe in hand, his expression one of detached professionalism. The needle glinted ominously in the harsh light, a harbinger of the nightmare to come. “This will help you relax,” he said, his tone clinical and devoid of empathy.

Xiaoli’s heart pounded in her chest as the needle pierced her skin, a sharp sting that quickly gave way to a spreading numbness. Her vision blurred at the edges, the room tilting and swaying as the sedative took hold. Despite the fog settling over her mind, the panic continued to surge through her veins.

As the sedative dulled her senses, Xiaoli’s thoughts became fragmented, and disjointed. Memories of her childhood with Y/N flashed before her eyes, moments of laughter and love now tainted by the fear of losing herself. She tried to cling to those memories, to hold on to the essence of who she was, but they slipped through her fingers like sand.

“Why are you even doing this?” she managed to murmur, her voice slurred by the sedative. “Please... I will do anything...”

“Because you were not ready to accept his love and the love of this clan, my dear,” Seokjin replied, his voice eerily calm. Xiaoli’s thoughts grew increasingly disjointed, a chaotic jumble of fear, pain, and fragmented memories.

Seokjin’s voice broke through the haze, a steady drone that contrasted sharply with the chaos in her mind. “You will be better soon. You will see things clearly and understand your place.”

“Pray for your sister to not need this.”  Xiaoli’s mind shut down in a desperate bid for self-preservation. The last thing she saw was Taehyung’s face, his expression a mixture of triumph and possession before everything faded to black.

Her head was secured tightly after she lost consciousness,  Seokjin carefully lifted her upper eyelid, exposing the soft tissue beneath. The point of entry is the thin, bony orbital roof, a structure that protects the eye within its socket. He is trying to do this without having to opt for the leucotome method.

Inserting the slender leucotome, just above the eyeball he severed the white matter fibres of her prefrontal cortex, methodically disconnecting the very essence of her thoughts and emotions, enough to just reorganize her persona into something she was not. Less capable of resistance, less capable to decide for herself.

“This better work, Seokjin, I cannot lose her.” His words cut through the air, a desperate plea as his gaze fixed on Xiaoli’s still form. She had to come back as the woman he wanted—obedient, loyal, bound to him in every way.

Nobody would ever notice. After all, Xiaoli was never opposed to being a wife of a high profile mafia member in comparison to her sister.

Her thoughts, her dreams, her fears—all of them slipping away, restructured, reshaped. The woman Taehyung had demanded would emerge from this, but at what cost?

Xiaoli would no longer fight him. She would no longer question him. In time, she would look to him, and him alone, for purpose.

Her body would heal; the bruising would fade, and the scar on her scalp would eventually blend, after all, everybody will think that it needed to be done after her unfortunate fall from the horse.

“If not, I will do it on the other side too, but that is risky” Seokjin murmured, but even he wasn’t sure if he believed it. Doing it with only one side was just as risky. The woman she had been might not return, but the woman Taehyung desired most certainly would.

“Why?” Taeyhung voiced. 

“You do not want her to be a vegetable, do you?” 

Xiaoli, the girl who would fight for her sister to be free of the notorious Korean Kkangpae Min, would cease to exist.

The rest would simply be a matter of time.

The next time she wished to write to her sister, innocently, Taehyung’s hand shot out, swiftly taking hold of the letters and ripping them from her grasp before she could finish her sentence. The paper fluttered to the floor, torn and lifeless.

“You cannot write to her, Xiaoli,” he said, each word deliberate. Xiaoli could not shake off the familiarity of this moment. As if she was reliving something from before.

“You belong here now, with me, love. You owe everything to this clan. To me.”

Her throat tightened, tears welling in her eyes as she tried to hold onto the fragments of herself that still fought to resist. “Alright, I understand.”

“She is safe,” he said, his voice cold and final, “and if she is to remain so, she will need to embrace her new life, just as you will. You will have no more distractions, no more ties to the past. Your sister will adjust, just like you did.”

She was a shell that smiled when expected, nodded in approval when necessary, and followed Taehyung’s every command without question. She was no longer a woman who sought freedom for her sister, who fought against the weight of the world. No, she was now simply his—his to guide, to possess, to mould into the role that had been chosen for her.

The pain of her sister’s struggle was no longer her burden to bear, not when she had been given a new, more fitting role to play. She belonged here now, she understood that—at least, she told herself she did. The clan had welcomed her with open arms, and Taehyung’s presence was both commanding and comforting. He was the anchor to her existence now, and she had no choice but to submit, for it was the only life she had left.

The day of their wedding arrived, the final step in the transformation of Xiaoli into the woman she had been shaped to be. The air was thick with anticipation, the ornate halls of the family compound dressed in rich colours, the scent of incense mingling with the opulence of the setting. Guests, powerful men and women from every corner of the clan gathered in hushed reverence, all eyes on the bride as she stepped into the room.

The silk fabric, lustrous ivory, was adorned with intricate patterns that seemed to dance in the flickering light, each thread whispering secrets of elegance and heritage. Her attire was simple yet breathtaking—a testament to timeless beauty. Even though it tinged Y/N with sadness that her sister chose to wear a Korean wedding dress instead of showing off their culture. It seemed that they even took the country out of her too.

The ceremony was a blur, just like everything else. The vows, the prayers, the promises—they all felt distant, detached. There was no room for anything more. Not when her thoughts, her emotions, had been so carefully erased, so perfectly reshaped to fit this role. She loved him, because she was told to do so.

As they left the altar together, Taehyung’s hand around hers, there was a finality to the moment that left her breathless. The gold band on her finger, heavy with meaning, designed with filigree — an oval, dark red ruby sat at its centre, glowing with an almost ominous warmth.

She glanced upon her sister sitting next to her husband once the ceremony was almost at its end. Her hand was sliced with a knife, Y/N, now the Min Buin, watched in silence, her expression unreadable. Xiaoli saw only the coldness of a woman who had embraced her new role.

She recited her pledge of loyalty to them and Y/N could not help herself but sigh. She could not reverse Xiaoli’s fate. The girl she knew was long gone and the woman she became was not who Y/N knew. Although, that will not make her love her less.

Her gaze flickered to Xiaoli, and for a brief moment, there was a flicker of something—regret, perhaps, or guilt—but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared.

Xiaoli’s bloodied trembling hand remained pressed against Y/N’s belly, a symbol of sacrifice, for what was to come. Y/N looked at her for a long moment before her hands gripped Xiaoli’s to reassure her for the last time that she was here. Min Yoongi’s watchful eyes did not miss this slight change in both of them, but for now, he is determined to let it slip. 

“Blessed be the fruit of your future legacy, Kkangpae Min.”

“Lǎodà Wang wishes to speak to you, Min Buin.” Y/N has set down the cup of her today’s dose of the herbal tea and breathed in, frustrated. She sat there for a moment longer, staring at the delicate ceramic cup.

“You can tell him what you usually do, Xiu — he can schedule an audience with me whilst my husband is present—” she began. Her voice was steady, but tinged with the faintest thread of frustration as she glanced at the delicate ceramic cup in front of her. The soft scent of the herbal tea filled the air, but it couldn’t soothe the growing unease tightening in her chest.

Xiu was her father’s maid since she was a child, hence she hesitated for a fraction of a second before responding. “Min Buin, this matter seems urgent. Lǎodà Wang insists on seeing you alone.”

“I have no interest in seeing him alone, Xiu—” She had kept her distance from him ever since her marriage to Yoongi.She did not protest when his command was to limit the interaction between the father and the sisters.

“I must insist, Min Buin.” Xiu repeated, her voice calm but firm. It was rare for Xiu to speak with such authority, but there was something in her demeanour that suggested the urgency of this matter was not to be ignored.

Y/N exhaled slowly, her thoughts spinning. “Alright, tell him to meet me in Kkangpae’s office. Off you go.”

Xiu bowed her head slightly, her expression unreadable, and then turned to leave the room without a word. Y/N watched her go, her mind whirling with unease. The mention of Lǎodà Wang was enough to unsettle her, but the insistence on meeting alone only deepened her suspicion. There was something off about this, something she couldn’t quite place.

Once Xiu disappeared from her sight, Y/N rose from her seat and walked toward the window, gazing out at the sprawling grounds of the hotel.

Why now? Why is her father so desperate to speak with her alone?

Xiaoli and Taehyung have been wed and there is no tie to him now. As a matter of fact, he can set a sail back to China, anytime now. She glanced at the clock on the wall. Time was slipping away.

She moved to gather herself for the meeting with her father. The weight of everything she had set in motion was starting to press on her, but she couldn’t let it show—not yet. She needed her mind sharp and clear, and she had no time to waste. But Y/N could see the sharpness in her sister’s eyes as she hesitated for a moment before speaking.

“What is it, pumpkin?” Y/N’s voice was calm, but the undercurrent of frustration and unease was evident.

“Are you sure you are ready to do this now?”

Y/N finally turned to face her, her expression unreadable but her eyes sharp. She studied her sister for a moment, taking in the subtle shift in Xiaoli’s demeanour, the way her posture had become more rigid as if she too could feel the weight of the coming confrontation. Y/N’s lips pressed into a thin line.

“Are you?” Xiaoli hesitated, but nodded, solemnly.

“I can come with you,” she suggested. Y/N’s gaze softened for just a moment.

“No,” Y/N said firmly, her voice steady. “This is not your burden, Xiaoli.”

Xiaoli nodded slowly, her lips pressing together in a tight line. “But it is, innit?” She stepped forward, her voice dropping to a murmur. “This is everyone’s fight. He has always been able to divide us,—”

The truth of it was there in her words, but she refused to acknowledge the vulnerability creeping up her spine. She could not afford to waver.

“Everything will be okay, pumpkin—” Y/N gave a final, lingering glance to her sister.

“—Ha-sun?” She called. The soft sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway before the door creaked open revealing the young maid.

“Min Buin?”

Y/N didn’t turn immediately, her eyes still fixed on the sprawling grounds below, though her thoughts were far from the peaceful view.

“Get me Jeon Jungkook, armed.” Ha-sun’s eyes widened slightly at the command, but she nodded quickly, understanding the gravity in Y/N’s tone.

“And call for Kkangpae Min, say he needs to return at once.”

Without a word, she turned and left the room, her footsteps retreating down the hall.

The situation when Xiaoli and Taehyung got engaged was already volatile, but this—this felt like something else entirely. The tension was palpable, thick with layers of unspoken threats and promises.

Y/N moved toward the door, ready to face her father, Xiaoli’s voice suddenly stopped her in her tracks.

“Wait,” Xiaoli called out, standing up from the chair where she had been sitting. Her expression was a mix of disbelief and amusement as she eyed her sister’s outfit.

Xiaoli walked up to her, raising an eyebrow. “Are you seriously wearing trousers?” she asked, her tone dripping with incredulity. Y/N’s eyes widened slightly, her patience already stretched thin.

“Are you seriously asking me that?”

Xiaoli crossed her arms, her lips curving into a mischievous grin. “It is just… you are about to face the wrath of Lǎodà Wang, and you are wearing pants? Is it not a little… aggressive?”

Y/N sighed, rolling her eyes as she straightened her posture, her expression shifting to one of mock seriousness.

“I am about to go confront the man who ruined our lives for years, Xiaoli. Trust me, these pants are the least of his problems.”

“What does a father have to do to see his daughter here?!” Y/N’s jaw tightened.

“I assume you have a reason for requesting to be in my presence.”

The air was thick with tension, the scent of aged wood and leather mingling with the faint traces of Yoongi’s cologne lingering in the corners.

The walls were lined with bookshelves, the shelves packed with legal documents, expensive liquor bottles, and the occasional framed photograph of her and the Min clan family men. But tonight, it was the man in front of her that commanded all her attention.

Her father, Wang Zemo, stood at the far end of the room, facing the large mahogany desk where Yoongi usually worked. He was still as imposing as ever—his tall, broad frame overshadowing the delicate space, his dark eyes glinting with something she couldn’t quite read.

He turned to face her short form only for his eyes to narrow with disbelief.

“What is this?” His voice was sharp. Y/N met his gaze, standing her ground, confused at what exactly her father was referring to.

She stood in the doorway, an almost ethereal figure, wearing a beige, floral-print qipao with short sleeves and a high collar. The delicate embroidery on the fabric caught the light, its intricate petals whispering a grace that felt both foreign to her now but still strangely familiar. Her wide-leg, high-waisted brown trousers fell to her ankles, the fabric swaying as she shifted. Dark-coloured heels clicked lightly on the floor, sharp and deliberate. There was something about her—bold, beautiful, yet undeniably out of place.

“What do you mean?” She asked him, playing confused.

“Are you wearing goddamn trousers, Y/N?!” The air was thick with the weight of her father’s fury. Y/N felt the sting of his words, the disbelief in his eyes cutting deeper than she expected. Seems like Xiaoli was right after all, it did anger him.

“Yes, Father,” she said softly, her voice steady despite the sharpness in his tone. “I am wearing trousers.”

Y/N’s gaze flickered toward the desk, where Yoongi’s chair was empty, his absence adding to the heaviness in the air. She felt the weight of her father’s presence pressing on her, but she refused to let it show.

There was no longer any room for fear. She was no longer a child, nor his pawn.

“You are a woman, Y/N.” Y/N stood firm, her heart racing. Breathing this moment through, she was trying to calm herself. She cannot screw this up.

“Ah, yes, thank you for the reminder of my gender, Father. I almost forgot. Now, could you please enlighten me on the real reason you wanted to have this delightful conversation in the first place?”

The muscles in his jaw tightened as Y/N’s words cut through the air with a little bit of sarcasm. Her father didn’t immediately answer. The room seemed to grow smaller with each second.

“You have not once bothered to seek me out, child.” Wang Zemo finally said, his voice low and filled with a mixture of disappointment and anger.

“You have not exactly made yourself approachable,” Y/N retorted, her voice sharp when she touched her shorter perfectly styled dark hair.

Wang Zemo took a step forward, his expression darkening.

“Knowing your husband plans to eliminate my existence. You think I would be easily approachable?—”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, but she kept her face impassive. “I do not know what we are talking about.”

“Let me rephrase that, child,” he spat the words, “I have information that could dismantle the foolish scarred boy’s entire empire as I have no intention of going down without a fight.”

Her mind raced, trying to piece together the implications of his words. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I know that you have not fallen into the role of obedient little wife out of love for him, am I wrong?” he said, sloping down to sit on the lowered sofa. Y/N’s eyes followed his movement with disgust.

“Fix me a drink, child, would you, please.”

Y/N’s eyes narrowed, her fingers curling into fists at her sides but moved to the table where Yoongi stored his high-quality whiskey they started to produce just after they got married. “You haven’t answered my question, Father. Why are you telling me this?”

She did not want to get that close to her father, but there was something in his eyes that she could not decipher when she handed him the crystal glass.

“Your Aunt was not aware of Yoongi’s intentions to marry you.”

Wang Zemo expected her daughter to cry, scream and curse at the man he loathed so much. But none of that happened.

“He saw an opportunity to solidify his power and took it—” His eyes narrowed, studying her. He took a long sip of the whiskey, savouring the taste after receiving zero acknowledgement from his daughter before he spoke.

“You fucking knew!” He shouted, not spoke. His face contorted with rage and Y/N started to think if she ever saw her father calm. Y/N’s gaze remained steady, unflinching.

“I knew that, yes,” she replied calmly, not invested in the subject at all anymore.

Wang Zemo’s anger seemed to deflate slightly, replaced by a look of bewilderment. “And you still went through with it?”

“I never had a choice in this, did I?” Y/N’s expression softened, but only for a moment.

“You could have come home with me that day—” He shook his head, disbelief etched into his features.

“I wanted better for you,” he said quietly.

“And I wanted to be free,” she countered. “But we do not always get what we want.”

Y/N watched her father, seeing him not as the invincible patriarch she had once feared, but as a man weakened by time and circumstance.

“If that is all you wished to say to me,—” She dusted her trousers standing up, reading herself for the inevitable. 

“I have orchestrated the raids on Yoongi’s warehouses. I have been systematically weakening his operations.”

He said, very calmly after he took a first sip of his drink.

“I did it for you.”

Rage and fear clashed within her, but she kept her voice steady. “What a lovely early birthday present,-” She mocked him.

“I did what was necessary,” he said, leaning back, the drink sloshing slightly in his hand. “For our family and for you, you are ready to finally leave, are you not?—”

She stared at him, a mix of disbelief and sorrow washing over her. “You think this is helping me? You think this chaos is what I need?”

A violent cough shook his frame, and he covered his mouth with a handkerchief. When he pulled it away, Y/N saw the dark stain of blood. The sight sent a chill down her spine, but she forced herself to remain composed. That is her que.

“You are ill,” she said, her voice softer but no less guarded. Wang Zemo looked at her, a strange mixture of defiance and vulnerability in his eyes.

“Colon cancer, they say.” Wang Zemo’s laugh was bitter. “That boy is never going to lead my men. Let me make that clear.”

Wang Zemo’s words hung in the air, his bitter laugh echoing in the room. Y/N’s heart pounded as she processed his statement. The implications were immense, the threat unmistakable.

“Father,” she began, her voice steady but edged with urgency.

“He has taken you from me,” Wang Zemo interrupted, his voice rising with a mix of anger and desperation. Y/N’s eyes widened hearing this nonsense.

“He has poisoned your mind, turned you against your own family.” His eyes flashed with anger, but his coughing fit cut him short. Blood speckled the handkerchief again, a stark reminder of his fragile state.

“I want you to end him, Y/N” Wang Zemo reached out, grabbing her wrist with surprising strength. She pulled her hand away, her heart heavy with conflicting emotions.

“No, Father. I will not be a part of your uncalled for vendetta.” The moment hung between them, filled with unspoken words and years of unresolved tension.

Y/N shook her head, her hands trembling slightly as she clenched them into fists. “You are blinded by your hatred. I have no clue why you were seeking this conversation to happen, but it is clear that you are not in the right state of mind, so let me remind you of what father you have been.”

He opened his mouth to retort, but another violent cough seized him. Y/N took a step back, her heart a tumult of emotions—pity, anger, sorrow.

“You were never there for me,” she continued, her voice steady but charged with years of suppressed pain. “All my life, you used me as a pawn in your endless power games. Do you think this is about loyalty? Family? No, Father, this is about control. You never saw me as your daughter, only as a tool.”

Her father’s gaze hardened, but he said nothing, his chest rising and falling with laboured breaths. Y/N took a deep breath, her resolve hardening.

“You have hired the best tutors in the world to teach me all the proper ploys of how to be a perfect wife, —” Y/N’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, but her voice remained unwavering.

“You made sure I could speak five languages, play the piano, and host dinners that would impress dignitaries. But did you ever once ask me what I wanted? Did you ever care about my dreams, my desires?”

“No, it was Auntie who did. Letting her send me to study was the only good decision you have ever made in your life!” Wang Zemo’s breath grew shallower, his complexion paling. But Y/N pressed on, refusing to let him off the hook.

“You orchestrated my marriage to Yamamato as a business transaction and when it did not work out, you were forced to accept this union instead. But I am no fool, Father, you did not care about my happiness then, and you certainly do not care now!” She took a step closer, her voice dropping to a fierce whisper.

“You have hit me numerous times when I was a child,—” Y/N continued, her voice trembling with the weight of her suppressed pain.

“You did not care if Ma would die in labour, all you cared about was an heir to your throne.”

Wang Zemo’s eyes flashed with a mixture of anger and desperation. “I did what I had to do for our family. For our legacy. For your strength!”

“Please, do not force yourself to believe such a fairytale. No father, you only care about your alliances and power. And now, you expect me to betray the man who has shown me more kindness than you ever did?”

“I will kill that kindness of yours. He will become a nobody to you. He is putting thoughts into your head!” he spat out.

Y/N’s heart ached as she looked at her father, a man who had caused her so much pain yet still sought to manipulate her until his last breath. She knew she had a choice to make.

“You did not even visit Auntie when she was dying. Who the fuck are you?” His mouth opened, but the words seemed to get stuck, tangled in the reality that was slipping away from him.

“You were never my father—” Y/N’s voice cut through the silence like a blade, the words more final than she had ever intended. They carried years of hurt, of unspoken resentment, and of a truth she had been too afraid to acknowledge until now.

“Then why are you still here talking to me?” he spat, his anger rising, even as his body weakened. “If you despise me so much, why haven’t you walked away?” Y/N’s gaze hardened. He couldn’t reach her anymore, not with threats, not with manipulation. She had outgrown him.

“Because I want to be the last thing you will ever see.”

Y/N’s voice was cold, each syllable a sharp strike that left no room for misinterpretation. Wang Zemo’s eyes widened, his lips parting in disbelief. The power in the room shifted as the finality of her declaration settled over them.

“What have you done?” his tone lowered now, as if the weight of the question had finally struck him.

“Nothing,—” Y/N’s lips curled into a cold smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Not yet, at least. But I am the niece of my aunt, am I not?” Wang Zemo’s eyes narrowed.

“No,” he rasped, his voice a warning. Scanning the crystal glass with his dark eyes, “You have done nothing with it. You are playing games.”

“Maybe, or maybe not.” Y/N’s smile deepened, though it was anything but warm. “But you… You have done more than enough to seal your own fate.”

Wang Zemo’s hand gripped the arm of the chair as if the world was slipping from his grasp. His eyes searched hers, looking for some sign of weakness, some flicker of the daughter he once knew. But there was nothing.

“You cannot do this to me, not you—” he rasped, his voice cracking with the desperation of a man who had finally realized the price of his ambition. “You are my blood… You owe me.”

“I do not, but I will help you understand, now—” Y/N’s voice was steady, her words slicing through the tension like a blade.

“You will regret this! I was your ticket out of here!” Y/N’s gaze remained unflinching, as cold as the steel in her voice. She stepped closer, her presence a stark contrast to his fragile state, standing tall and unshaken. The difference between them had never been clearer.

“I would not care what happens with you, but it seems my husband does care, as you ought to set an example for the other clans.”

“This is foul play!” The gun trembled in his grip as he pointed it toward her, the barrel glinting in the dim light. His fingers curled around the trigger, the same fingers that had once held her as a child, now threatening to take everything from her.

“I was your father," Wang Zemo rasped, his voice cracking,”I am your father!” Sweat slicked his forehead, "and you will learn that I can still control you."

Y/N sighed. Her chest rose and fell as if the weight of everything she had just unleashed was pressing down on her. She had always carried this burden, this gnawing needs to free herself from the ghosts of her past, or at least one of them.

“I will not go quietly,” he said, his voice a hoarse whisper. “If I must die, I will take you with me.”

“Right,—” she began.

“I will give you the courtesy and explain what will happen once you pull the trigger.”

Wang Zemo’s hand shook, the gun wavering slightly in his grasp, the tension in the air thick enough to choke. His eyes locked onto Y/N, desperate for any sign that she still cared, still feared him. But there was nothing—no hint of hesitation, no flicker of remorse. She stood there, unbroken, unwavering, her presence almost suffocating in its certainty.

“To begin, if you would have colon cancer, you would shit blood not cough it.” Wang Zemo’s face contorted with confusion. Her statement was so cold, so clinically delivered, that it sent a ripple of unease through his body.

“Now, if you decide to pull the trigger and God gives you the blessing of killing me—” Y/N continued, her tone now a chilling blend of indifference and precision “Yoongi will let you die the most painful and slow death he will think of.” Her gaze flicked downward to the gun in his hand, then back to his face.

“No, it will not be a quick, merciful death, Father. It will be something far worse—a lingering agony that mirrors the suffering you have caused so many others.”

She took another step closer, her voice lowering, a deadly quietness to it now.

“Now, the moment you fire the bullet, Jungkook will be here in seconds to save me, not you Father. Which brings us to — how do you feel?” Her voice lowered, venomous and precise “Is your heart slowing down already?”

His hand shook violently, the weapon trembling in his grasp, as he tried to process the suffocating inevitability of her presence. She took another deliberate step forward, and Zemo flinched, instinctively trying to recoil. But his body betrayed him, frozen by the terror of what her words meant.

“I am not afraid of you!” Y/N was not sure whether he was screaming at her or at death itself, but she answered for both of them.

“No, Father. You are not afraid of me. But you will be. You are drowning in your own failure, suffocated by your own decisions. And in those final moments, when your body betrays you and the darkness takes you, I want you to think of me. I want you to remember everything you have done to me, Xiaoli and Ma — every mistake, every cruelty. And remember that I am the last thing you will see.”

The words hit him with the force of a blow, and his chest tightened, each breath coming in shallow gasps. His vision blurred, his pulse racing as his mind struggled to catch up with the impossible reality Y/N was laying out before him.

A bead of sweat rolled down his temple, and his fingers trembled, the gun feeling heavier with each passing second. His heart hammered in his chest, a staccato rhythm that felt far too loud in the heavy silence. He could feel the walls closing in on him, suffocating him.

And then, a flicker of fear—a glimpse of his own mortality—crept into his mind, deeper than any threat he had ever made. His body was betraying him, and the weight of it crushed him.

“You will go down, no matter what choice you will make.” The gun still shook in his hand, but he felt a strange calm wash over him, a resignation that he had not expected.

His heart pounded in his chest, its rhythm erratic and violent, each beat a forceful thud that seemed to rattle his bones. A sharp pain shot through his left arm, searing like fire, and for a moment, he thought he might collapse. His head swam with dizziness, his surroundings distorting into a tunnel of panic and suffocating pressure.

His grip on the weapon tightened reflexively, but his fingers felt weak and unsteady, struggling to maintain their hold as the world spun around him. The pressure in his chest mounted, a crushing weight that made it harder to breathe, and harder to think. His pulse quickened, each beat faster than the last, pounding in his temples, in his throat, until it felt as though it might burst.

His vision flickered, darkening at the edges, and a cold sweat broke out across his brow, his skin clammy as if he were sinking into the very depths of despair. His mind, once sharp and calculating, was clouded by the chaos of his body betraying him.

“You think you are clever, but you are just a wife of your husband, a mere woman!” Those last few words felt all too familiar to Y/N, but this time, she did not falter.

“Women like you do not rise, they only serve men. You think you are the queen?! What is a queen without her king?!”

“You have never been worthy of my respect, Father,” she said softly, the venom still present but tempered with the quiet certainty of someone who had finally reclaimed their power. 

“And you will not be in death either.”

His finger trembled on the trigger. The finality of it felt overwhelming, and suffocating, but there was no turning back. With a final breath, Wang Zemo attempted to pull the trigger. His hands were too weak to even handle the luger pistol as it went crashing to the ground with a loud thud, just like his crystal glass of whiskey, his body followed. The sound echoed through the room, alerting the young man standing right outside of the room.

The man who had once towered over her now crumpled at her feet, the gun useless at his side. She made no move to comfort, no gesture of sorrow or regret.

Instead, she slipped her hands into her pockets, her shoulders square, as she slowly crouched beside him. His breath still came in shallow gasps, each exhale a reminder that time, for him, was running out.

Her lips curled into a faint, cold smile.

“Nonetheless, I am Queen, and Queens do not bow, Father. They conquer.”

Y/N did not flinch. She did not need to. The man before her had already destroyed himself, in mind and in body, long before this moment had the chance to happen.

The door swung fully open, and there, framed in the doorway, stood the man she was supposed to call her endgame. Behind him, Jungkook’s sharp eyes flickered between Y/N and the wreckage of her father.

Yoongi’s gaze swept over Y/N, and then to her father. The faintest trace of a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, but it was gone in an instant, replaced with the steely composure he had mastered. His dark eyes narrowed, taking in the scene.

“Are you alright, Dove?”

A strange calm settled over Y/N whilst she was watching her father slowly die.

“I am good,” she replied, her voice steady and unyielding, “but he is not.”

Yoongi stepped closer, his eyes filled with a mix of concern but also admiration.

“Did you poison him?” Jungkook’s voice echoed behind them. Y/N turned her gaze to Jungkook, a faint smile playing on her lips.

“No,—” she said softly, “I just made him think I did.” Yoongi raised an eyebrow. When he got an urgent call to one of his warehouses where he was personally overseeing the shipment of Min whiskey with hidden snow in the bottles, he did not expect to come back to the hotel to this scenery. His mind raced through the events of this day and nowhere not even close to this, he thought that his wife would eliminate Wang Zemo on her own. That was not the plan.

Y/N knew that his father was sick for a while, but what she also knew was the hereditary condition of a weak heart that flows in their family. It was a silent killer, a ticking time bomb that Y/N had learnt to exploit. 

First, she made him think that she had poisoned him, his panic was almost immediate. She exploited his fear and turned it into a panic attack which his heart condition could not handle for a long time. His belief that he was poisoned triggered a fatal heart attack she had anticipated - hoped for. She exploited his psychological vulnerabilities to bring about his end, ensuring that the autopsy would say died of natural causes.

Jungkook nodded slowly, his expression shifting from confusion to admiration.

“You used his own mind against him.” Yoongi stepped closer, his gaze locked on Y/N, a flicker of admiration in his eyes. He couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of pride in her. She had done what was necessary, what was ruthless, but ultimately, she had done what needed to be done. For him. That is what he ultimately believed, she did it for him.

“He knew you were planning to kill him.” She wasn’t looking for approval or some sort of acknowledgement. She did it for herself. For Xiaoli. For her mother and little brother. The world will be at least a tiny peace better without her father.

“Well, it looks like I have missed the party,” She hadn’t heard him approach. Namjoon’s voice resonated the room, a faint, knowing smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He leaned against the doorframe, his eyes taking in the scene with a mixture of curiosity and something else—perhaps a flicker of reluctant approval.

Y/N didn’t smile back. She didn’t need to. She knew Namjoon well enough to understand that his words, however casual, were never without layers. He wasn’t just commenting on the spectacle of her father’s death; he was acknowledging something deeper. Something far more dangerous.

“Did you?” Y/N’s voice was cool, and smooth, as she turned her full attention to him, her eyes sharp with intent.

Namjoon chuckled softly, his gaze flickering from her to Yoongi, and then to Jungkook, who was still processing the events unfolding before him.

“I suppose I did,” Namjoon said, his tone tinged with dark humour, “this is far more elegant than what we would do,” his eyes flickered to Yoongi and she arched her brow. Y/N was not enlightened into Yoongi’s plan with her father but that did not matter to her - the outcome is the same. Today, she would sleep soundly. Because her most intrusive thoughts are becoming reality.

She knew Yoongi’s eyes were on her, studying her every movement, every nuance of her demeanour. He had expected her to break down—expected her to show some sign of regret, or at least the weight of the moment to sink in. But Y/N had made peace with this long ago.

“I did not expect you to be this calm,” Yoongi said, his voice low, almost cautious.

“I buried him a long time ago.” The words hung in the air, heavier than the silence that followed.

Jungkook, who had been silently absorbing the entire scene, finally broke his silence. His voice was quieter, less sure than usual.

“So, this... this was not part of any plan?” He looked to Yoongi for confirmation, still processing the revelation that Y/N had acted independently, that she had outmanoeuvred them all.

Yoongi met his gaze briefly, a subtle tension in his features, before turning his focus back to Y/N.

“No. It was not the plan.” He said it with finality, though his words seemed to hang in the air with an unspoken understanding. There was no anger in his voice—only a sort of resigned acceptance.

Namjoon, however, seemed to find something else amusing in the air. His lips curled into a smirk, his gaze flicking over Y/N as if seeing her for the first time. His eyes paused at the hem of her outfit, a flicker of curiosity crossing his face.

“Hold on a second,” he said, his tone laced with amusement, his eyebrow quivering upward. “Are you... wearing trousers?”

Y/N stared at him for a moment, and for a split second, it almost felt like she was in the middle of some twisted dark humour comedy.

“You must be fucking kidding me” she muttered.

“That was way better than what you planned, Yoongi-hyung,” Taehyung said, a hint of a smirk on his face. Yoongi’s eyes flickered with irritation at Taehyung’s comment, but he quickly masked it with a tight smile. Namjoon nodded in agreement.

“I knew she had it in her,” the right hand man said, almost to himself. Seokjin leaned back in his chair, his expression contemplative.

“Is she alright?” the doctor asked, concern evident in his voice.

“I checked on her earlier, she seems oddly calm—-” Jimin, still thinking about the moment he arrived at the scene, spoke up to answer the question.

“It is almost scary how composed she is.” Jungkook, who had been pacing, finally stopped and faced the group.

“If you would have been in the room when he attempted to drag her out of here by her hair, you would understand the hatred she felt towards that sick psychopath.”

The room fell silent as the gravity of Hoseok’s words sank in. Jungkook clenched his fists, his jaw tightening.

“We should have done something sooner,—” he muttered, guilt lacing his voice.

“Well she was just faster than us, and apparently, Xiaoli and her mother knew,” Yoongi added, his voice laced with a mixture of frustration and admiration.

Just how much these women hated that man?

“Did she tell you that?” Yoongi shook his head but recalled the lack of emotion her mother showed when they told her that her husband had passed away from a heart attack. Nor did Xiaoli shed a tear for her father, but in that case, it’s different.

Jungkook’s expression softened slightly, his concern for Y/N clear. “We need to make sure Y/N is okay. She has been through enough by now.”

Taehyung’s smirk returned, albeit more subdued. “That wife of yours is tougher than any of us gave her credit for though.”

“So what now?” Hoseok’s voice echoed in the room. His gaze swept across the group, seeking answers, or at least some clarity.

Yoongi leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair, thinking of what his wife had just done for him and their family. This was huge in his head and he could not get it out of it.

“As I know her, she will ask for something in return, or use this in whatever negotiation.” Yoongi’s gaze darkened, his expression serious.

“She took control, and she knows that.” Hoseok frowned at Yoongi’s words, stepping closer to the table where the group had gathered. Yoongi met Hoseok’s gaze, his jaw tight.

“Do you still not trust her, Hyung?” The question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken tension.

“Her behaviour has been odd lately, let us start with that—” the right-hand man spoke up, taking the crystal glass of whiskey into his hands. The silence stretched between them, and for a moment, it seemed like Yoongi might not respond.

He leaned forward slightly, his fingers tapping on the table, a rhythm that matched his thoughts.

“I trust her,” Yoongi said, his voice low but firm. “But all the previous experience makes me think that she sees this as her opportunity to do something bigger—” Yoongi sighed, rubbing his temple.

“She took down her own father, for God’s sake.” Hoseok raised his voice. “She is devoted to you.” Yoongi’s gaze hardened as he met Hoseok’s eyes.

“That I am starting to believe she finally is, sure,” Yoongi said slowly, each word measured. “But I get Namjoon’s suspicions of her, she did not attempt to run for quite some time, as if she is plotting something—”

“Maybe she is playing us all.” Taehyung, sensing the rising tension, leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing in curiosity.

“Playing us all?" Yoongi repeated his tone low, almost mocking. “You think Y/N is playing us?”

“She has been too calm about all this, Yoongi. Too composed for someone who just killed her father. You don’t just do that without having something bigger planned.”

Seokjin’s eyes flickered to observe Yoongi’s reaction to their brother’s words. “He is right, Yoongi. She has always been emotional, and driven by her heart. But this—" He shook his head. “It’s different.”

Jimin shifted in his seat, looking between the men, the concern in his eyes growing.

Hoseok stood straighter, his expression softening as he spoke with conviction. “She had a choice. She could have walked away or stayed neutral, but instead, she chose to act. And what she did, Yoongi, was not just for herself. It was for all of us. For you. Do not dare to doubt her loyalty, when she worked hard to finally be contemptuous here!”

Jungkook, his voice quieter than usual, spoke up listening to Hoseok’s words. “She did what she had to do. And whatever her reasons are, I trust her.” His gaze met Yoongi’s. “You should, too.”

Yoongi’s expression hardened, trying to keep his emotions in check. His mind raced, the weight of everything that had happened in the past hours pressing down on him.

Taehyung’s voice broke through the silence once again, more serious than usual.

“She has changed—” Yoongi exhaled sharply, his mind still reeling. “I just need to understand why. Why now? Why this?” His voice dropped to a near whisper, the vulnerability slipping through despite his best efforts to hide it. His heart... his heart wanted to believe in her, wanted to believe she was doing this out of devotion, not manipulation.

“Of course, she has changed!” Hoseok’s frustration was bubbling at this point. "You were nine when she was born," he continued the quiet force in his voice, not backing down.

“Nine years, Yoongi. You have had that much more time to figure things out. To live your life, to become who you are now. She did not have that—” Yoongi’s jaw clenched, and for a moment, he didn’t know how to respond. The truth was there, raw and unfiltered, and it stung.

“She had three pathetic years to enjoy what life can be and then she went to be your wife.” He took a breath, trying to steady himself. Y/N had spent so much of her life suffocated by the things that had shaped her, by the violence and manipulation that had plagued her existence long before she ever crossed paths with him.

The silence that followed was thick, the air heavy with unspoken emotions.

His voice was quieter than it had been, softer, as he spoke the words he wasn’t sure he was ready to say. “I just… I need to—”

“Even if she is plotting some grand escape, we will stop her, Yoongi.” Yoongi’s head snapped up at the interruption, his eyes narrowing at Hoseok’s words. For a moment, Yoongi’s chest tightened, the idea of Y/N plotting against him threatening to undo everything he’d been trying to hold together.

He stepped forward, his hand resting gently on Yoongi’s shoulder, an attempt to ground him in the present. “You all are too busy doubting her, instead of trusting her.” Yoongi flinched slightly at the rawness in Hoseok’s tone. He had been too caught up in his own doubts to truly see the bigger picture.

“Maybe you are right,” Yoongi muttered, his voice low, almost to himself. He ran a hand through his hair, frustration bubbling back to the surface.

“She is not running, Yoongi. She is not playing you. What is happening now is what happens when you have been given enough time to think.” Hoseok’s gaze softened, his expression becoming more contemplative.

For the first time in a long time, Yoongi allowed himself to take a breath, to breathe out the doubt, and let himself hold onto the belief that maybe, just maybe she was done fighting him for good.

“I genuinely hope that you are right, Hoseok-sshi.”

Y/N gave it a few days after the funeral to ask Yoongi for a favour. That well he knew her, she had to give him that. Y/N stands by the door, her posture stiff, but her hands clasped tightly in front of her. She’s been holding this request for days if not since they were married.

“What is wrong, my love?”

Her breath caught in her throat. She hadn’t expected him to address her so gently, not now, not after everything that had happened. But she couldn’t hold this in any longer. She had waited long enough.

Y/N swallowed hard, her throat dry. She had rehearsed these words in her head for days, but now that she was here, standing in front of him, they felt like a foreign language.

“I…” She started, her voice faltering, but she steadied herself. There was no urgency in his voice when he spoke next, but something in his gaze suggested he already knew this was coming.

“Go ahead, Dove,” he said, his voice calm, almost too calm.

“I need you to allow my mother… and Bo Cheng… to travel to Maryland,” she said quietly, her words falling heavy into the room. “To Diayu. They need to be there. To… to live a life I could not.”

Something in the stillness between them made her heart beat faster as if he was expecting her to ask of this. The silence stretched between them, heavy and thick, suffocating. Yoongi didn’t speak, his gaze fixed on her with a patience that felt like it was pushing her to continue, to reveal more than she wanted to. Her hands tightened at her sides, and she took a shaky breath.

“I do not think you need them to be here anymore—” Yoongi’s eyes flickered to her hands before returning to her face, his gaze still sharp, analyzing every movement, every word.

“Bo Cheng can grow up without knowing what was supposed to be his—” Y/N continued, her voice barely above a whisper.

Yoongi’s expression didn’t change, but his eyes darkened, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face. He leaned back slightly, crossing his arms over his chest, his posture remaining calculated and composed.

“He is still too young to remember-” 

“Are you not going to miss having your mother near, Dove?”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat at the question, the weight of it pressing down on her chest. For a moment, she stood frozen, her gaze flickering down to her clenched fists. She had expected him to ask something like this, but hearing the question out loud—direct and sharp—was a different kind of pressure.

She had never imagined a time when her mother and Bo Cheng wouldn’t be part of her life, but what Yoongi was proposing... it wasn’t about them. It was about her.

“They can come and visit at Christmas time or Chuseok, innit?”

“Christmas time or Chuseok?” he repeated, his voice laced with quiet amusement, though the sharpness in his gaze never faltered.

Y/N’s breath hitched, but she steadied herself. She had to hold on to this. If she let herself waver, even for a second, she feared the price would be too steep. The price he would demand would be too high.

“It is enough,” she said, her voice firm, though it trembled ever so slightly. “They can come and go. They can live their lives far away from here. But I need you to make sure they are safe.” Her eyes met his, unwavering for a brief moment, before she quickly looked away, her gaze dropping to the floor as if the weight of her own words had just begun to settle in her chest.

“You are trying to make sure I will not use them as a bargain against you, am I right?”

She had always known how far his control could reach, but hearing him speak it so plainly… made the reality of it hit harder. She swallowed, her throat dry, and for a moment, she said nothing. She couldn't give him the satisfaction of confirming his words outright, but the truth was already in the silence between them.

“Perhaps—” she murmured. Yoongi’s lips curled into a small, knowing smile.

“Perhaps?” His voice dropped, low and dangerously calm. “You still do not believe in my love for you, or do you, dove?”

Y/N’s chest tightened. She didn’t dare meet his gaze again, afraid of what she might see in those dark eyes of his.

“I trust you enough to keep them safe for me,” she said quietly, the words escaping her before she could stop them. It wasn’t a lie. She had to believe it because, without that belief, she would have nothing left.

Yoongi stepped forward, his presence overwhelming. The space between them seemed to shrink, his scent and warmth now consuming the room.

“But you still fear that I will take it all from you,” he murmured, his voice so soft it felt like a whisper meant only for her. “That I will use them to make you obey—”

His words hit too close to the truth. Too much of her had been shaped by the fear of losing control, of being at his mercy again.

“I—” she started, but her throat went dry, her voice unable to carry the weight of the admission. She wasn’t ready to say it. Not yet. Not like this.

“You are right to be afraid, Dove,” he said softly, his voice smooth and almost soothing, but there was a steel edge beneath it. “I could use them against you. I could take them away, pull the strings again, make you bend to my will.”

His thumb brushed across her skin, and Y/N felt herself fighting the urge to pull away. She couldn’t. Not now. She had made her request, and the words had already been set in motion.

“Here is the thing, Y/N,” Yoongi continued, his voice lowering to a dangerous murmur. “I needn’t to. I already got you, have I not?”

A long silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken understanding. He didn’t need to say it. She knew exactly what he was implying, what they both knew.

“Yoongi, I promise that this is the last thing I am asking you for—”

“Answer me, dove.” His voice was quiet, too quiet, but it carried the weight of a hundred unspoken questions.

“I just need this one thing,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “Please.”

“Answer me first.” His gaze bore into her, unwavering, demanding. She knew what he wanted—he wanted her to admit her fear, her dependence on him.

“Yoongi, please,” she repeated, her voice trembling. Y/N closed the distance between them, her eyes locking onto his. She reached up, her hands trembling as she cupped his face. For a moment, they just stood there, the tension between them palpable.

“I will do anything—” she desperately whispered, but the words caught in her throat. He leaned in, his breath mingling with hers, and before she could lose her nerve, he pressed his lips to hers.

The kiss was soft at first, a gentle exploration, but it quickly deepened into something more intense. Their tongues collided, each seeking to claim the other’s. Their breathing grew ragged, their hearts pounding in unison. Yoongi’s hands slid around her waist, pulling her closer as if he could never get close enough. Y/N’s hands shook as she cradled Yoongi's face, her fingertips brushing against his skin.

When they finally pulled apart, Yoongi’s forehead rested against hers, his breath coming in soft, ragged puffs. His eyes searched hers, a myriad of emotions flickering across his face—desire, possession, a touch of vulnerability.

“We did not have a chance to return to what we talked about at the jewellers,-” he murmured, his voice a low rumble.

Y/N’s heart raced at his words, the mention of the conversation from before bringing everything back into focus. She had known this was coming, the weight of his demands still hanging in the air like an unspoken agreement between them.

“What do you mean?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, her hands still trembling against his chest as she steadied herself.

“You asked me what I want for my birthday,” he said slowly, his voice laced with a quiet edge. “But you did not hear me out when I said what I needed. What I want.”

Y/N’s pulse quickened, a knot forming in her stomach. She hadn’t been ready for this. Hadn’t thought he would be so direct, so blunt.

“I know what you want,” she said, her voice steady despite the nerves coiling inside her. “But it is not the same thing. I just... I need this one thing, Yoongi. This one thing, and then—”

“No.” His grip tightened around her, his fingers pressing into her skin. “You do not understand, Y/N. We are far beyond that now. You are not going to walk away this time.”

There it was. He wasn’t going to let her walk away from this. The strings were already attached, and now she was tangled in them. His lips brushed against her ear, and his voice was a dark promise as he continued.

“You said you would do anything. Anything, dove.” He paused, his lips trailing to her neck. “You want them safe and away? I will do so—.”

She closed her eyes, her breath catching in her throat. “What do you want from me, Yoongi?”

His response was soft, almost a whisper, but the weight of his words sent a shiver down her spine.

She always knew what he desired, although, for her sanity, she rather chose to not wander into those waters, not even think those thoughts. She was not ready to answer him. She was not ready to be confronted by him so bluntly. But there was something so mundane in Yoongi’s eyes when he said the word

“A child.” .

.

.

.

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 ❝𝐰𝐞'𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧❞

©pennyellee. please do not repost

Love you all!! ♥

Don't be a silent reader, comment, re-blog, heart, asks are more than welcome ♥

keep in mind - I'm not an expert on chinese, korean and japanese culture, but I tried to research everything realistic I wanted to add to the story. Nonetheless, take it as a fiction. Nor in this case, I'm a medical professional.

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lots of love, p.

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[usomads]

hey this might be too smutty but can you write a oneshot of a wwe employee who has a secret crush on roman reigns. She has to go roman's locker room, she gets so caught up in admiring roman's handsomeness and aura that roman was preparing to masturbate (which she ends watching). Roman didn't notice she was in his room.

Red-Handed // Roman Reigns x Reader

Request #1: “Can you write a Dom/Sub oneshot of Roman and his lover. Roman is punishing his lover by not having sex with her but he does torture by masturbating in front of her”

Request #2: “Hey this might be too smutty but can you write a oneshot of a wwe employee who has a secret crush on Roman Reigns. She has to go to Roman’s locker room, she gets so caught up in admiring Roman’s handsomeness and aura that Roman was preparing to masturbate (which she ends watching). Roman didn’t notice she was in his room.”

Author’s Note -> Hello! I hope you don’t mind but I combined your request with another one I got because they’re so similar, then added some of my own flair lol. Also… too smutty? On THIS blog? Neverrrrr 🙂‍↕lmaooooo anyways here’s your request, I hope you enjoy and as always– happy reading! (we’re gonna just ignore that it took me a week to write this bc I got too dickstracted writing this scene lol)

Pairings -> Roman Reigns x Fem!Reader

Warnings -> Cursing, Masturbation (Male!Fem!), Daddy Kink, Spanking, Hand Worship, Hickies, Bruises, Unprotected P in V, Creampie, Not Proofread, MDNI

Word Count -> 2.8k

“Hey, Y/N! Can you come here for a sec?” Your mentor, Jamie Noble, beckoned you over to him. You had only been employed as an assistant producer backstage at WWE for a couple months, being primarily assigned to shadow Jamie– aka, one of the main producers of the Bloodline segments. Because of this, you spent countless hours every week either attending in-person or virtual meetings with him, Bobby Roode, Paul Heyman, and the focal point of the Bloodline storyline, Roman Reigns, as you collectively planned out segments for upcoming shows. It was during these meetings you found yourself growing an attraction to the man they called the Tribal Chief, often getting lost in your own thoughts watching him as he gave his inputs, his words leaving his mouth smooth as velvet– the natural timbre of his voice low enough to vibrate you to the very core. You knew he knew it too, a deep smirk painting across his face as either Jamie or Bobby would have to snap you out of your trance you were in. It was pathetic how captivated you could become over a man’s voice, or the furrow of his brows when he was deep in thought, or the way a singular vein would grow prominent along his neck when he spoke in a passionate monologue about the story, or how the t-shirts and sweats he wore to meetings would define his features and cling to his body just right– snap out of it, Y/N.

“Yes, Mr. Noble?” You shake the thoughts out of your brain, focusing your attention on your boss.

“Y/N, for the last time, please call me Jamie. You’re making me feel ancient,” he laughs for a moment then regains his focus. “Anyways, I need you to stop by Roman’s locker room. We had to make a couple changes to the promo tonight, he’s already greenlighted them in case some segments run over… we’re about 10 minutes behind right now so we’re gonna have to adjust.” You swallow hard, nerves hitting you like a freight train as you listen to his orders. “Don’t look so nervous, Y/N, you’ll be fine. You need to get used to being alone with him, because one day I won’t be here anymore and…”

“I know, please, don’t remind me,” you laughed nervously, “I’ll let him know.” Jamie thanks you silently before turning his attention elsewhere as you stand in place for a moment, truly weighing your options. Don’t be stupid, Y/N. All you have to do is just let him know we’re short on time and that’s it. Nothing more. Relax. You shake your head to remove yourself from your own thoughts and let out a shaky breath before turning around and walking slowly down the hallway backstage. Your legs felt heavy as you willed yourself down the hall, occasionally stopping to say ‘hi’ to someone you recognized before reaching the door of Roman’s locker room. Nervously, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding as your knuckles rapped on the wooden door in front of you– trying hard to not knock loudly. Surprisingly, no one answered. Maybe I wasn’t loud enough? You tried again, slightly louder this time as you knocked on the door. Again, nothing. Is he even in there? Maybe the third time’s the charm. Once more, you knocked on the door in front of you and were met with silence. That’s odd. But maybe he’s got headphones in and just can’t hear me. Do I–? Do I crack the door open to see? No, that’s too much. What if he– no, we don’t have much time, Y/N. Just open the fuckin’ door. Hesitantly, your fingers wrap around the cool metal of the doorknob and twist the handle– cracking the door open and using the small space to peek inside. Oh. My. God.

Roman was definitely inside, but you were not at all prepared for what you were currently seeing. The big mirror along the wall left nothing to the imagination as you watched him– his eyes shut and head thrown back as beads of sweat and water dripped down his torso, your eyes following as they trailed lower, watching as his right hand skillfully stroked his cock. Breathy groans fell from his lips as he pleasured himself, and you found yourself unable to look away. You shamelessly had imagined him like this, daydreamed about how beautiful he’d look consumed in his own pleasure, and found your own arousal making itself known as you watched. Unconsciously, your hand gravitated to and began rubbing your core as you bit the inside of your lip– making sure you wouldn’t be heard. You felt dirty watching him perform this very private act, but no matter how badly your mind tried to tell you this was wrong your eyes were trained on the man in front of you, stuck in place and unable to look away.

“It’s rude to stare, you know.” Shit. You quickly snapped out of your trance and moved behind the wall, embarrassment flooding over you as you pressed your lips together– holding your breath. 

“I already saw you, Y/N,” Roman chuckled as you squeezed your eyes shut. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. “Come in.” Your breath hitched in your throat, somehow more nerves rising to the surface. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, love. Come sit. I promise you, I’m not upset.” His tone softened and you released the breath you were holding, feeling unsure of your own foundation as you cracked the door open and snuck inside, shutting it behind you. You couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes so you settled for your shoes, focusing your complete attention on them as you walked into his dressing room and sat in a chair across from him.

“I– I just was coming to tell you that we have to s–switch to the other p–promo tonight… we’re behind schedule by about 10 minutes so…”

“That’s fine, now will you look at me?” You didn’t move, your gaze still trained to your shoes as a flush of red came across your cheeks, and tears brimmed your eyes.

“Y/N, look at me.” His tone, sharper this time– more demanding, forced your eyes to snap up to his. His gaze softened slightly as he saw yours, the look of guilt evident across your face.

“I– I’m so sorry, I–” your eyes widened as you unintentionally shifted your focus down his body– he’s still pleasuring himself. “Oh my god, um, I– I’ll just come back later,” You covered your eyes with your hand, gasping when you felt a larger, rougher hand wrap around your wrist and bring your hand back down to your side. Roman’s hand. 

“Don’t act so shy now, princess, clearly you didn’t have a problem watching me through the mirror a few minutes ago, hmm?” You tried hard, to no avail, to look anywhere but at the hand that was wrapped around his cock.

“I–,”

“You what? You’re sorry?” You nodded slowly, heat rising to your cheeks. “I don’t believe you, Y/N.” 

A wave of confusion crosses your face as you lock eyes with him, trying to ignore the way they were glazed over or how his brows furrowed trying to stifle his sounds of pleasure. He chuckled lowly at you, his eyes hooded and trained on you.

“I don’t believe you one bit, princess. I see the way you look at me. In meetings, Zoom calls, here backstage… I bet you’ve fantasized all about this, haven’t you?” You tried to speak but were immediately cut off. “Oh, and how could I forget? I saw you too.” You gasped softly, making him chuckle again. “Yeah, baby girl, don’t act so innocent. I saw that hand,” he motioned to the hand he had just placed at your side, “rubbing that pretty pussy of yours while you watched me… dirty, dirty girl. You could’ve gotten caught, you know…” Your body stiffened as you listened.

“So, you wanna try telling me you’re sorry, again?” Your lips pressed together as you looked at your lap, embarrassment growing by the second as he was calling you out like this. “That’s what I thought,” he said, a smirk present in his tone.

“Please.. I– I can’t lose this job. A–and..”

“Oh, sweetheart, I won’t tell if you don’t.” You look back up at him, a mixture of relief and shock in your eyes. “But, I don’t think you should get off that easily either…” Your chest sank, worry creeping back in at his words as he leaned back against the couch– still stroking himself. You watched him once more, no longer hiding your want for him, but he notices right away. “You want this, don’t you, Y/N?” You bite your lip in response, head nodding slightly as you continued to watch his hand. “Use your words, princess.”

“Y–yes…”

“As much as I’d love to give it to you,” he pauses, slowing his strokes, “I’m not sure you deserve it yet… but maybe I could be convinced.” He smirks, his eyes lowering at you– waiting for your next move.

“R–Roman–,”

“Please, Y/N, call me Joe.”

“O–okay… Joe…” you swallow the lump in your throat, your voice shaking as you speak. “W–what do you w–want me to do?” 

“Oh, don’t worry, I have plenty of ideas. Come here.” Hesitantly, you rise to your feet and stand between his legs, staring down at him. “Strip f’me, baby girl. Lemme see you.” You nod obediently as your fingers find the hem of your shirt, pulling the material over your head then finding the button of your jeans, Joe taking the lead and pulling the denim off your legs as you step out of them and push them to the side. 

“Goddamn, Y/N, you been hidin’ all this from me?” Another blush comes across your cheeks, your arms instinctively coming up to cover your chest but Joe grabs your wrists and stops you. “Uh, uh, none of that. Now, get over here.” He pulls you by your wrists and pushes you down onto his lap, ass in the air as his large fingers trace down your spine, giving you chills.

“You’re gonna count until I tell you to stop… stop counting or mess up and we start all over, understand me?”

“Y-yes sir..” you mutter under your breath.

“Speak up, princess.” He demanded sharply, his nails digging into your ass cheek– making you wince.

“I understand,” you say louder this time as the man nods in satisfaction. Without warning, the palm of his hand connects with your ass cheek. You cry out, in a mixture of pain and pleasure, but somehow are able to whimper, “One.” Smack. A little harder this time, but you’re able to keep up with the count. Smack. Smack. Smack. By count 5 you feel nothing but pure pleasure with each spanking his hand delivers. Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack. By count 10 your ass is beat red, hand-shaped welts matching Joe’s identically form on the surface of the sensitive skin. Smack. Smack. By count 12 the pool of wetness that was contained by the fabric of your panties had now completely soaked through, leaving a puddle of your juices on Joe’s thigh. 

Smack. Smack. Smack. “You love this shit, don’t you pretty girl?” Your ass had become numb at this point, tears pricking your eyes as you cried sounds of pleasure and whimpers of his name– never losing count. The hand that punished you was now caressing the welted skin, brushes of his rough palm making you wince as he soothed the area. Joe stops his movements to bring your body back up, wincing as your ass brushed the fabric of the couch. 

“Look at my hand, ma. Look what you did.” He shows you his palm, which was equally as red as your bare ass. You weren’t sure what came over you, whether it was the heat of the moment or a secret fantasy but you found yourself reaching for his hand. His brows furrowed at your action, almost caught off guard but relaxed the moment you pressed your lips to the redness of his palm. You peppered kisses all across the palm, soothing it with your lips before giving the area small kitten licks with your tongue, further alleviating the redness– no, worshipping the hand that punished you. He watched in awe as your lips found the length of his fingers, kissing each digit before taking his index and middle fingers in your mouth, sucking gently around them as you stared into his eyes.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he groans, his eyes fluttering closed at the sensation, “Think you deserve a reward, baby. Did so good f’me… you want that?” You remove his fingers from your mouth with a pop, looking into his eyes from your kneeled position. 

“Please, daddy.” His eyes lit up at this new pet name, something within him igniting and driving him to practically pounce on you– pushing you down onto the couch as he climbs on top of you.

“Say that shit again.” His voice is low and demanding, rich with desire as he smirks down at you– oh, he liked that. A lot. 

“Fuck me, daddy. Please.” You whine, biting your lip at him as he devours you with his eyes. His tip teases your entrance for a moment before fully entering you, giving you no warning and zero time to adjust before driving into you relentlessly. He uses his hands to grab the back of your thighs and throws your legs over his shoulders, fully stretching you– imposing his will on your body and making you his personal plaything. Joe leans down to your neck and begins sucking on the skin, bruises rising to the surface to match the ones created under his fingertips on your hip bones. You knew you would never be able to hide them, especially after this, but you felt too damn good to give a fuck about a hickey or two– or ten. 

Your moans and cries reverberated off the walls with a resounding echo, joining the sounds of your skin colliding and heavy breathing and filling the room. Your nails claw long scratches into the man’s back, the pain only further pushing him to fuck you harder. 

“Fuck, baby, so fuckin’ tight. Imma have to wear this pussy out more often, aren’t I? Yeah, you’d fuckin’ love that shit, huh? Tell Daddy how much you love his fuckin’ cock.”

“Mmm, I– I love it, daddy. Y– you fuck me s– so good…” You whimper, feeling the beginning of your climax start to form in your lower stomach. 

“Shittt, you gonna cum for daddy like a good girl?” Your walls flutter around his length at his words, making him chuckle. “Yeah, you like it when I call you my good girl?” You moan in response, your eyes squeezing shut as you feel your orgasm approaching.

“D– daddy I– I’m gonna… gonna cum…”

“Give it to me, princess. Been such a good girl for Daddy… mmm fuck, show me how good Daddy makes you feel. Cum f’me, baby.” Your pussy squeezes his cock before he can finish, your orgasm ripping through you as you arch off the couch and fully release on his cock. Your body violently shakes as the overwhelming pleasure completely consumes you and, for a moment, you’re seeing stars. Joe fucks you through your orgasm, his following shortly after as he paints your walls with his cum and fills your swollen pussy completely. For a moment you two remain there, trying to come down from your highs as you catch your breath. It’s silent between you for a couple minutes, until Joe breaks it.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.”

“What, to fuck my brains out?” You laugh, causing a smile to come across his face.

“No, well yes, but not just that… I mean even just laying here with you. You weren’t the only one who felt something, you know.” “Oh.. why didn’t you say something then?”

“You seemed really closed off, like I wanted to ask you out bu–”

“Hey, Joe!” The two of you hear Jamie's muffled voice as he knocks on the wooden door across the room from you. “I’m coming in, we’ve got our segment in 10 minutes!” Shit.

“Fuck, he can’t see you in here. Hold on,” Joe pulls out of you, making you wince, and brings you to your feet. “Here,” he ushers you into a closet, gathering as much of your clothing as he can and hiding it before shutting the door, although the room was still visible from the crack in the closet door. You watch quietly as Jamie and Joe discuss the upcoming segment, Joe seemingly being able to play it off like nothing happened.

“Oh, what’re these?” You hear Jamie interrupt, picking something up off the floor. “Looks like you and Ms. Y/N got quite a bit of ‘work’ done, huh?” He’s smirking teasingly at Joe while he holds something in his hand. You try to make out the item through the crack in the closet door, when it finally hits you– your black lace panties. Shit.

[teeny-tiny-revenge]

It's home cinema manufacturing time! 🏴‍☠️ Gonna put my pirate show on my shelf! (I'm doing an Arts and Crafts Project and I'm making it everyone's problem.)

After seeing how much they cost, I abandoned the idea of getting a Blu-ray writer for now. For the time being, good old DVDs is what it's going to be! My TV is old and not very big, so DVD resolution is gonna be fine.

It's been ages since I last burned a DVD. For the full experience, I'm gonna create nice menus and pretty sleeves for the boxes. Graphic design is my passion! Um.

Well. First needed to find a program to do stuff with. I'm a Linux guy, so I'm using Devede. (Which is free, btw. In case someone else wants to do a low cost spot of putting pirate show on the shelf.)

DVDs fit a maximum of 120 minutes of video. So, four episodes, I thought. But after a quick attempt, the program refused to do more than three (maybe because of the menu also taking up space, and four episodes cutting pretty close to the 120 min mark?). Anyway, three episodes per disc it is. It's a pretty nice runtime for watching the entire disc, IMO. An hour and a half, and then you can return to reality to realise you should probably eat something, or go to bed because it's midnight.

OFMD with its current two seasons has a total of eighteen episodes, which is divisible by three. You get the following setup:

Disc 1: Pilot, A Damned Man, The Gentleman Pirate - That's pretty good, Stede's introduction to piracy all on one disc!

Disc 2: Discomfort in a Married State, The Best Revenge is Dressing Well, The Art of Fuckery - All bangers. Great to watch together, our boys meet and shenanigans happen!

Disc 3: This is Happening, We Gull Way Back, Act of Grace - Many romantic moments, lots of great scenes, shit hits the fan at the end there. Alright!

Disc 4: Wherever you go, there you are, Impossible Birds, Red Flags - ... Pain and angst! What have I done!?! The disc of horrors. Gotta make sure to have tissues at hand when I watch this. But hey, it also has messy bun Ed! Small mercies.

Disc 5: The Innkeeper, Fun and Games, The Curse of the Seafaring Life. - Another disc with all winners. I love all these episodes so much! (You can watch this disc to recover from the trauma of the previous one!) But seriously, this one slaps.

Disc 6: Calypso's Birthday, Man on Fire, Mermen - Great combination again. Season finale! Love and excitement!

... Honestly, except for the psychological damage of putting all the most painful episodes together, this is coming out pretty cool. Says a lot about how good the show is. I actually really love all the episodes (yes even the painful angsty episodes of massive depression). Thinking about this little project really reminded me how much I love this entire show.

So, we got a tracklist, now menus, then we can burn this stuff!

I did the menu backgrounds in GIMP. Realised I have a big folder full of screenshots I took myself, screenshots someone else took and posted on Tumblr, official promo pics for the show, and I have no idea anymore where most of them are from, because I named the files according to what's on them. Which is useful for when you want to find pics (Need a picture of cursed suit Stede? I have files named that, easy peasy!), but not so great if you wanted to give credit to whoever took a given pic you used. (It's probably @sherlockig or @ofmd-ann or @blakbonnet. Please feel credited, your beautiful screens and gifs brighten my day, and some of them are now probably part of my DVD menus. Shrunk down and cropped, but, yeah.)

I originally wanted to structure my menus as having the title of an episode, then some pics from it, then the next episode, then pics from that, and so forth, but I couldn't convince the program to give me the necessary padding between the menu items, so I ended up just putting the episode images below the menu. Still like it.

Anyway, DVD menus can also play sound! Behold a crappy video of my beautiful creation (provided entirely for sound):

It plays Gnossienne N°5!

More crappy pics of my other disc menus:

Gonna make them some nice sleeves next. Some day. Gotta make sure they all work properly first. So. I'll be on my sofa, watching my DVDs. With menus! (Edit: here are!)

[trashmouth-richie]

Series summary: Hawkins Annual Halloween Festival is in town, and this year you and your friends were lucky enough to work the event. But when some of your co-workers are missing, and a trail of blood leads to the woods behind the festival. Your friends work together to find out what’s going on. A killer is on the loose but who could it be? Or is it the town’s spooky secret of what really happened at Hawkins Lab?

ch 2: A SCREAM AND A SLICE

ch 3: THE ROCKSTAR AND THE RED LIGHTS

ch 4: FAMILY VALUES

series trigger warnings: blood, character death, murder, smut, p in v, drinking & smoking pot, themes of misuse of prescription pills, character killer, stranger things canon events, light mentions of domestic abuse, neglect, etc.

BUY TICKETS

PROMO FLYER

part 1 summary: a movie night with friends ends with a very scared Nancy and you and your best friend getting high in your room, when the lights flicker across town— you + Eddie brush it off as nothing— because Hawkins Indiana has always been a little strange.

FLICKER

The popcorn bowl in your lap is nearly empty, only brown kernels left to shift noisily as Eddie’s hand scrapes around the bowl in chase of one last piece of the buttery snack.

Your eyes are glued to the screen, breath hitched in your throat as you watch Michael Myers stalk down the street. Even though you’ve seen it a dozen times, it still gets to you. Something about the rubbery, expressionless mask he dons as he chases and slashes through people's skin just rubs you the wrong way. 

“Ohhh fuck!” Eddie gleams, Michael’s knife cutting through Annie’s throat, “did ya see that?!”

“Trying not to,” Nancy muffles, her face buried into the broad shoulder of Steve, small hand clasped around her eyes, Steve’s arms pulling her closer into him.  

Movie nights in the Wheeler basement were a typical Friday for your group of friends. Something that you weren’t sure would continue to happen after you, Eddie and Steve graduated this past May. Being waitlisted for your dream school put your endeavors on hold and neither one of them had any grand plans of leaving Hawkins, especially since Steve and Nancy had rekindled their on-again-off-again relationship. 

Currently they were on again, and dipping into near pornography whenever they thought no one was watching or listening.

“I gotcha,” Steve purred into Nancy’s mouse brown hair, rubbing her back, “c’mon Munson, turn this shit off.”

“No!” You and Eddie both say at once. 

He smirks at you. The same dimpled closed mouth grin he had given you since you were thirteen years old. He clears his throat, “It’s almost over anyway.”

Eddie’s love for movies and music came at a young age. Anything to keep his mind busy while his parent’s fought. Anything to keep the noise of the screen door slapping shut as his mom fled their trailer again, his dad hot on her heels and swinging a fist through the dark night trying to make contact. Anything to drown out the noise and squeal of her tires kicking up rocks and dead grass against the aluminum trailer as she sped away, this time for the last time— without him.

He was your friend before his mom had left and any of that had started, and he had spent more nights sleeping on your couch than he had his own bed. You were comfortable with Eddie in ways that girls shouldn’t be with their best friends who were boys. But you could care less. It was always, and forever would be, platonic between you and Eddie Munson. 

Reaching over the laps of both Eddie and Steve, you tug Nancy’s shirt until she peeks over Steve’s collar. You mouth bathroom? And she nods, getting up and following you, trying not to trip over a very drunk Robin or passed out Johnathan. 

The light in the bathroom does absolutely nothing for Nancy’s complexion, playing on the peaked look of her skin and illuminating dark circles under her eyes that you normally had not seen. She sits on the sink and holds her arms against her chest as you finish up, washing your hands next to her. 

“How can you guys watch that stuff?” She half whispers and sniffs, rubbing a petite hand under her red nose. 

Drying your hands, you shrug, hanging the towel back up on the hook, looking back at your reflection and fixing your smudged eyeliner,  “it’s just a movie Nance,” you say to her through the mirror, “besides, the possibility of something like that happening in Hawkins, are pretty damn slim.”

She shakes her head of ill thoughts, “yeah, o-‘f course, I just,” a chill runs through her, tickling her spine and making her skin goosebump, “the thought of it is… scary.”

“I think that’s the whole point.”

Opening the door, Steve audibly gasps at the next jump scare, and Eddie claps along hooting and hollering as Michael’s next victim joins the dead. 

“I hate Halloween,”she mutters to herself, hopping down from the sink following you out to your friends. 

-

Nancy spent the remainder of the movie with a lamp on, reading over her English paper for Mrs. Click’s class that was due in a few weeks, huffing in disapproval at either the movie or her paper you weren’t sure. 

Robin wedges her way onto the couch with the four of you, whisper yelling about how stupid the characters are and how none of it makes any sense. 

“You’re ruining it Buckley, shh!” Eddie says, placing a ringed hand over her mouth. And you can’t help but laugh at them both. 

Robin licked the flat of his palm, her signature move, and Eddie squealed in disgust, “fucks sake Robin.” 

“Aww,” Robin says, squeezing his cheeks with her long chip painted fingers, “don’t be jealous Eddie-bear.. you probably won’t know this but that smell is puss— ow!”

Your elbow digs into her ribs, “shh!” you sneer, 

The ending credits roll and Eddie’s on his feet, ejecting the tape and slotting it into the paper protector. “Who’s up for the second one?”

He groans when the entire room yells no. Pouting and shoving the tape into his backpack. “What about you Byers?” he asks, kicking Jonathan’s leg to bring him back to life. 

“Huh?” he asks through a yawn, rubbing his shocking red eyes, “nah man I’m cool, need to get home, mom is working late and Will’s by himself.” 

He tosses the pillow he was using into the arm chair and trudges up the steps, saying see ya laters and thanks as he leaves. 

Eddie shoots you a wink and you stand reaching for the blankets you were cuddling with and fold them neatly onto the couch. 

Robin stumbles up the stairs behind Jonathan, trying to score a ride so she doesn't have to walk the three blocks to her place completely drunk. 

Steve pulls Nancy in his lap. She’s whispering to him with tears brimming her bright blue eyes, but you can’t hear what she’s saying.

“Yeah, c’mon” he whispers against her hairline, holding her up so they can both stand, “still have your toothbrush at mine… hey, we’re going to my place,” he announces to you and Eddie, just turn the lights off and we’ll see you tomorrow for opening day right?”

The Annual Hawkins Halloween Carnival was in town, and after two years of working the county fair in Roane County, you had all been asked to work at the carnival this fall. 

The carnival schedule was the weekend before Halloween to the weekend of Halloween. 

Seven days of thrills and chills. Pumpkin carving, face painting, a corn maze that seemed to go for miles, the best food in the Midwest, and finally the usual carnival rides with a sick twist of Halloween themed frights. 

Orientation was last week Saturday and Sunday a grueling 7am-7pm both days. Mr. Creel went over expectations and rules for you as staff to follow. 

It seemed easy enough. You and Eddie were put on rides just like you had been all summer. Nancy and Argyle were in charge of games, Tina and one of her cheerleader friends were doing the pumpkin carving. 

Steve and Robin would be set up in a small booth sponsored by Scoops Ahoy from morning until 5 pm, later taking over on rides for Eddie while he and Corroded Coffin made their debut on stage at night. 

 Steve was still pissed that they were insistent on him wearing the blue sailor uniform, even though the mall burned down last July— they managed to have Mrs. Sinclair sew the outfit for him.  

Jonathan would help Argyle and Nancy with the nickel and dime games, ones designed to have parents shell out pockets of change to have their kids possibly win a stuffed animal that wasn’t even worth an entire dollar. 

Billy Hargrove— who you were certain fled town after the mall fire, was apparently still in Hawkins and now in charge of the haunted hay ride at night and the corn maze during the day. 

Him and Eddie used to be close during his senior year, but it all fell apart and you weren’t really sure why. When you asked, Eddie would shrug it off, claiming he had changed after graduation, and that was that. 

You were surprised that the staff was minimal even though the festival was bigger and had more events going on than the summer carnival did, but you didn’t want to jinx your chances of working for it next year. Rumor was, Creel paid double for the Halloween event, Eddie called it the chance of a lifetime, and you knew it’d  be stupid to mess it up by asking questions. 

-

“Thanks for letting me stay again,” Eddie mumbles after you toss him the sleeping bag from your closet, “didn’t know he’d be home tonight.” 

After you had drove home from Nancy’s you had barely gotten into your room when your phone rang, it was Eddie and he was at the payphone outside of Benny’s. 

It’s me, can I stay over?

you didn’t think twice, telling Eddie yes and hanging up the phone. 

His dad had been released from county two weeks ago after Eddie finally scraped enough bail money together to get him out. He swore this was the last time he’d do it but you knew better than that.

Eddie was a lot of things but he wouldn’t let his dad rot in some cell. Even though he deserved every single second of being there. 

Al Munson had been in and out of jail since you could remember, petty crimes this and grand theft auto that. He was hardly a stable male figure for Eddie. 

But to the doe eyed boy with brown curly hair— Al hung the moon. 

It nearly killed Wayne Munson to see Eddie stick up for his old man, but he still offered his home to Al whenever he came through town on his next stunt, bleeding Eddie’s pockets dry and taking every emotional spark left in him when he tore out of the driveway, just before the blue and red lights could follow.

“Don’t worry about it,” you shrug tossing him one of your pillows, “you know you’re more than welcome here, anytime.” 

Even though your parents hated the idea, you moved into the old apartments across town the week after graduation. Full of naive wonder and wanting some privacy you worked all the hours you could between Meldvald’s and Bradley’s Big Buy, earning just enough to have a couple hundred dollars left to go into savings after rent. 

The faucets leaked, the paint was chipping and probably poisonous, the front door didn’t even lock properly, but you could care less: it was freedom.

Eddie grabs the hem of his shirt and drags it over his head, revealing his tattooed chest and silver bar nipples, wincing when his shirt grazes the new piercing. His curls tickling his shoulders. 

“I know,” he grunts, unclasping his belt and chain from his jeans, tossing them to the floor beside his makeshift bed, “I just worry one day you’ll get sick of pitying the Munson charity case all the time.” 

He scoffs when you throw a pillow at him, “what I’m serious!”

“Knock it off, Bam Bam, you’re my best friend, I’m never getting sick of you.”

“oh Christ, listen—” he began, shaking his head in disgust and holding up a ringed hand to stop you, “this game only goes one way, babe, and that’s me calling you the same name I have since we were six.” 

You roll your eyes, a sudden heat to your cheeks that lately was becoming more and more prevalent each time Eddie used your nickname or an endearing name someone would use for a girlfriend. 

But that was just how Eddie was, he even called Ms. O’Donnell “honey” once to ace a test but all he got was a big fat ‘F’ and a week’s worth of detentions.  

Eddie reaches into his pocket for the plastic film, “besides, you only keep me around because you can smoke for free,” he says, presenting the pre-rolled joints and his trusty zippo. 

“Ooh, and he brings gifts? you shouldn’t have,” you mock in a terrible accent, fanning yourself with your hand as if you were a true southern bell, “it's not even my birthday, mister.” 

Eddie gets into the bit, sitting cross legged on your bed and dumping the contents of the bag onto your comforter, the skin of your knees touching, “well it’s not every day a lonely feller like me comes across a lady lookin’ as fine as you.”

Giggling he licks the end of the paper to seal it tight and you lick your own lips in greedy anticipation. You loved movie nights with all your friends, but there was always something special about being alone with Eddie. 

It was calming, but maybe it was just having him around that made the stress of bills and everything else just fade away. He had that special way about him. 

Holding the joint and lighter up for you his eyes locked with yours, and you swore his cheeks went pink, “ladies first, princess.” 

—-

Across town, Steve was spending the evening with his lips on Nancy’s neck, huffing when she gasps when the bed creaks from his movement. 

“Sorry— I’m still a little freaked out.”

Steve brushes a lock of hair behind her ear, “there’s nothing to worry about honey— I promise, I’ll keep you safe. You know that right?”

She takes a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. “I-I know that, I’m— it’s just this time of year that always gives me the creeps.” 

Nancy Wheeler had gained minor popularity when she struck the fancy of the king of Hawkins High. She wasn’t used to it, finding the glory of being Steve’s girlfriend suffocating. 

“Well I’ve got somethin that isn’t creepy,” he coos into the shell of her ear, “in fact, you always seem to like it.”  

“Steve..”

He shushes her with his lips, and like she always did, Nancy found herself giving in to him. 

—

Fingers twirled between the bouncy rings of a telephone cord, Robin waited patiently— well as patiently as she could— for Vickie to pick up. 

Their relationship was secretive, only her closest friends knew of Vickie and Vickie didn’t tell a single soul about the nights spent tangled in the corn powder blue sheets with the pretty freckled faced clarinet player. 

They had a system. Vickie dealt the cards and made the rules, while Robin had a hand of jokers and mismatched suits, only she didn’t—couldn’t— see it for what it was. 

The phone rang and rang, and would continue to ring. Hard to answer the phone when you’re too busy being pressed into the mattress with your feet on your boyfriend's shoulders. 

—

“Yeah mom, I’m home now.” Jonathan answered annoyingly into the phone, “… W—No he’s asleep.. I’m sure he did… yeah, fine..I’ll go check.” 

The phone would have stretched easily into the small bathroom down the hallway of the Byers’ home so he could check that Will had taken his nightly medication, but instead he let the phone slap against the floor in a clankety thud. 

Jonathan Byers had been the man of the house since his dad left in seventh grade. He cooked, he did the laundry, and worked part time wherever he could. His mom was barely able to keep it together since Lonnie had left. And most days, she couldn’t. Somehow the last year she had gotten worse. 

She was rail thin, and never ate a thing. Absent minded. Constantly writing things out and scribbling nonsense onto scraps of paper. Strewn across the living room, the kitchen, any surface available. 

She was always worrying if Will would be okay, but never reciprocating that same kind of love and care to Jonathan. 

Joyce Byers loved her boys equally, but the youngest was given more attention, maybe it was because he was her last baby, or possibly because his father had rarely ever acknowledged his existence. Still, the relationship between mother and son was broken off, string rolling in on itself when it came to Jonathan. 

The pills in the slot marked ‘friday’ were gone, just like Jonathan knew they would be. His brother took his medications religiously, never ever skippinga day, he had it clocked down to the hour,  minute, and second— the same time every single day. 

A routine he had since last year. 

Jonathan looks back at his gaunt expression when he shuts the medicine cabinet, smiling fake and toothy, taking the usual freebie from the hoard of pills his mother was prescribed but never took. 

His lips under the faucet he swallows the white oval pill down. 

Will wasn’t the only one with his own pill routine. 

—

“Eddie, turn the lights off already it’s fuckin 2 am,” 

Without fully waking you throw a pillow down to where he was laying, it wasn’t unusual for him to get high and pass out with the lights still on, but it was annoying beyond belief. 

A muffled groan is heard from beneath the tossed pillow before Eddie wrestled it from his face, “the fuck are you throwing shit at me for?” 

“you left the lights on again.”

Head on a swivel Eddie looks from you, to the ceiling to the switch, “open your eyes Helen Keller, they’re not on.”

the sting of light is still shining bright in your face and when you peel your eyes open you see that he wasn’t lying. Your room was dark, but the street lamp was glowing brighter than usual.  

Your toes curl around the plush fibers of your rug and you pull the cord to open the blinds. Eddie’s weight shifts onto your mattress as a loud yawn escapes his lips, followed by a scratching noise that you’re hoping is his nails against his skull instead of his balls. 

“what the fuck?”

The street lamps up and down your street were buzzing and glowing in an emberred haze. The glow of yellow was straining brighter than could be deemed possible and it was pulsing with an ominous flicker. 

You were tantalized by it’s beauty, like a moth to a flame hypnotized by the menacing doom— you couldn’t look away, and for a split second the welcoming sunshine of the lamp turned blood red, a warning of terror before being blown to bits and shattering to the ground below. 

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie jumps behind your shoulder, “what the hell was that, you saw it right?”

You definitely had, it’s illuminating shadow still glowed bright when you blinked your eyes. You have heard of electric surges, currants going hot when wires were overloaded. But flickering like that then burning red before burning out? It was almost like a fallacy, something Eddie probably would have made up for Hellfire, it simply couldn’t have been true. 

You rubbed at your eyes like a tired child, “told you that second joint smelled funny,” you said sitting on your knees facing him and shoving his shoulder, a look of shock on his face.

He scoffs and shoves your shoulder back, rolling his eyes playfully, “it’s a new strain Rick concocted himself, red…red somethin’…” he lays partly on the bed and stretches his body to the floor fumbling into his jeans pocket in search of the cellophane plastic of the baggy. 

“Ah, here,” he says, shoving the bag into your hand, your thumb rubs over the black sharpie written in boy chicken scratch hand writing.

You read it the same time Eddie says it. 

“Redrum.” 

♡ hope you enjoyed, comment what you think will happen next; reblogs are appreciated

♡ part 2: A SLICE & A SCREAM ♡

♡tag list: @dashingdeb16 @emxxblog @mopeymopeymouse @pretendthisnameisclever @mommybaby-witch @eddies-acousticguitar @tlclick73 @figmentofquinn @eddies-stinky-battle-jacket @whenshelanded @micheledawn1975 @3rd-conchord * @leelei1980 @mopeymopeymouse @browneyes8288 @emilyslutface @mmunson86 @josephquinnsfreckles @eddiesxangel @elegantkoalapaper * @str4ngergirlw0rld * @corrodedcoffincumslut @nailbatanddungeon

if you want to be added to the all time taglist for new/upcoming fics comment on this post 🖤

[mamirhodessxox]

hello, i hope ur having a good day/evening/night when you get this!❤️

so i was hoping to request something for dashing or undashing Cody where he keeps hanging out with other female wrestlers in hopes of getting fem reader jealous or something, but reader has never had people like Cody be interested in them in any kind of way, so she doesnt realize what hes doing until Cody drags them into a closet or something and is basically like ‘why arent you paying attention to me?🥺’ and reader is basically shocked and surprised that Cody likes her back.

anyway, i hope this wasnt too long🥺 and i loved the cody one you just posted based off of him calling out the rock; absolute perfection 👌

Dummies In Love

Dashing!Cody Rhodes x Innocent Fem!Reader

Desc: Y/N had been close friends with Cody since his very debut in the wwe, She always thought they had a super close bond because of how good of friends they were until she realized she likes him & becomes distant and jealous when she sees him around another woman.

Contents: Cussing, Fluff, Angst, Smut, Innocence kink, very light size kink, P in V (wrap it before you tap it), Cockwarming, Jealousy, Daddy kink, Tummy Buldge.

🏷️ list: @alyyaanna @ginswife @coolpastelartshoe @greatkoalawizard @cokolin044 @kotoriarlert @alicerosejensen @bunnybot55 @agent-dessis-posts @adollonyourshelf @mini-rhodes @southerngirl41 @harmshake @femdisa @kabloswrld

{~I'm very serious with you guys interacting with my writing!!!! it would make me so happy & excited, the more comments & reposts the more inspiration i have to write :) likes and comments are strongly appreciated so please COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT COMMEENNTTT the more comments the more content <3!!!~}

Cody & Y/N always had a close bond especially since the two of them met, they clicked almost instantly, at the time Y/N was working at a little Cafe down the street of Cody’s apartment so he would visit almost everyday and each day they always talked while she worked.

Eventually she started going to his events to be the supportive bestfriend she loved being & then they got even closer, Holding hands, hugging on each other while standing making multiple girls interested in him think she was his girlfriend, he would kiss the top of her head often, even sleepover at Y/N’s apartment or ..

Y/N sleeping over at his, either way the duo was inseparable, and then things got confusing for Y/N…She started feeling a certain way towards Cody especially because how he would give her special treatment that the average bestfriend wouldn’t receive, Just like the character he had played as in the ring he was just as Dashing, his aurora leaked of charisma, She was so scared of these feelings but things got worse, Cody was known for “messing around” with some girls so he definitely hooked up many times to keep himself entertained for awhile and also distract him from his own feelings. Y/N would be fuming every single time another woman was with Cody. But then it turned into a game for Cody, he knew she was jealous and wanted her to be jealous.

Y/N stood aside in backstage with her arms crossed a glare on her face as she watched Cody flirt with yet another girl laughing way to hard at his jokes that were never THAT funny, eventually the girl walked off with a smile on her face while Cody grinned to himself before turning towards Y/N and smiled approaching her for a hug but she held up a hand to stop him & coming up with an excuse “I feel a little under the weather Codes’ good luck on your promo, I don’t wanna get you sick or something.” She smiled meekly while fiddling with the skirt she just put on just for him an hour ago before going over to the stadium they were hosting raw at.

“You sure? I can get you something to ea-“. “Nonono I’m fine just need rest, Good luck tonight Cody, I’ll be watching from home.” She smiled while Cody stared at her in suspicion & decided once he was done with his work of entertaining tens of thousands of fans for the night that he would give Y/N a visit because he does not fall for that shit whatso ever.

Y/N sat in her car as she waited in traffic with her two fingers pressed against the left temple of her head as her mind betrayed her on thoughts she didn’t particularly want to think about. The reminder that her chances of being with Cody are low, extremely low. At least that’s what she made herself think, once she finally fought through the traffic & made her way to her apartment she locked her front door after snagging her extra key from under her “welcome home” rug that laid in-front of the door. She slammed the key on her table & sighed as she put on her most comfy pajamas before lying down on her bed & sulking over s man who feels things for her just as much as she does for him without even realizing it.

After a few hours she was already asleep & Cody just made his way up the stairs in her apartment complex & stood by her doorstep as he tried to grab the spare key from under her rug only to see that it’s vanished. He tried knocking but go no response.

The next day Y/N stood behind the counter training a new barista & felt nervous as Cody walked into the cafe waiting for her to give him his undivided attention, but instead she had the trainee handle his order & she just stood back observing her new fellow employee & helping her work the register while Cody stared at her in confusion as to why she wasn’t paying attention to him. If this meant staying until she closes up the shop then so be it. He had the free time today.

So he sat there, for hours watching and observing her while he waited for her to clock out and go home. She saw him in the corner of her eyes the entire day and felt his stare burn right past her skin. Y/N began closing down the cafe & hang up her apron before going outside which had Cody follow along while she locked the doors & begin speed walking off “I know your not sick Y/N.” He called out to her as he followed from behind but she still gave no response to him. “Doll I really hope you don’t take me for a fucking dumbass because I know what game you’re trying to play & I don’t like it.” He shouted out once more but she shook her head as she walked even faster and so did he. She forgets he has the energy to chase after him no matter where she was going.

They soon ended up at her apartment building and he still followed her up the stairs and eventually pressed her up against the door she was about to unlock “Why aren’t you paying attention to me sweetheart? You know I don’t like it so why are you doing this to me?” She frowned and attempted to respond but she didn’t have the words to reply “I know you’re not sick either, you were perfectly fine last night and today.” She nervously shrugged “I— well you seemed busy with a few girls so I’m assuming I was interrupting something.” He sighed with a smile spreading across his face “I get it now, you’re jealous aren’t you baby?” She widened her eyes and shook her head “What?! Me?! Noo! I- well- you-“ Cody interrupted her defensive blabbering and pressed his lips against hers very gently before entangling his fingers into her hair. Her eyelids fluttered down and began kissing him back after letting the shock take over her body for just a split second.

Cody slipped his tongue right past her swollen lips & eventually pulled away wiping off her mouth while she whined softly “You talk to much baby.” He chuckled out before taking her keys & unlocking her door and immediately shoving his mouth back against hers as they stumbled into Y/N’s humble abode. He pressed her against the couch & bit slightly down against her bottom lip while she whimpered into his mouth as he wrapped her legs around his hips as he started grinding into her, she let out a low moan the moment his clothed hard on pressed against her. “Feel that sweet girl? You make me so fucking hard baby.” He groaned into her ear while she rolled her eyes back once he started grinding into her even more which made her feel a sudden wetness in her panties that left her a little alarmed since she was so unfamiliar with sex due to her having a shitty hookup once a blue moon “C-Cody ‘m all w-wet down there..” she sighed out while he grinned & started pulling down her leggings marveling over her laced panties. He pressed his thumb against her clothed clit and smirked to himself once he saw her squirm and lift her hips up forth even more.

“Oh i know angel, your not used to having someone who actually knows what he’s doing with your pretty pussy huh?” He grinned as she meekly nodded & gasped when she heard a loud tear & looked down seeing him quite literally rip off her panties “C-Cody! I just boug- ffuckk..” she moaned once she felt him slowly push his fingers inside her cunt while he sat up while pumping them in and out of her leaving the room to echo the noises of him finger fucking her. Y/N cried softly while he nipped at the shell of her ear “Feels good? Yeah? Of course you to baby, y’just needed daddy to touch your pretty cunt properly huh baby?” She nodded vigorously while she clenched around his finger the moment his started curling his finger inside of her & teasing her clit with his thumb. “O-Oh my god Cody!!” She squealed kicking her legs a little bit but he didn’t budge on whatever she was trying to do, his fingers fucked into her faster while she clenched around them like a vice & started cumming & making a mess of herself making the brunette male chuckle and kiss her temple before pulling his fingers out tapping then against her already fucked out cunt before licking off her juices from his fingers.

He immediately started taking of his pants & pulling his cock out from his boxers giving himself a few strokes smearing his pre cum around the head of his cock & pulled her onto his lap while grabbing her jaw gently and making her hover over his lap forcing Y/N to look at him in the eye “You’re gonna sit on my fuckin’ dick, take it all like a good girl & not move a fucking muscle until I tell you understand?” She nodded quickly and wrapped her arms around him before kissing him in an impatient manner before moaning against his mouth when he started seething himself inside of her. She felt him leave a slight bulge in her stomach as her cunt tightened around his cock immediately feeling him throbbing inside of her “gonna take my dick like a big girl? Hm?” He almost felt guilty for being slightly rough with a girl who was so innocent & needy but then again he was going to prove her he can fuck her 10x better than her past hookups.

He enjoyed the fact she would let him man handle her & hold her small figure against him while his cock was sunken inside of her, Y/N moaned softly when his dick started twitching, her face was all covered up in the crook of his neck while his large hands ran down her entire body, groping her breasts & rubbing against her tummy before he started slowly thrusting up into her “Fuck..” he groaned into her ear while she leaned her head back and started bouncing on his dick in the same rhythm he was in making her gasp & scratch his chest a little bit “Yeah? You feel good don’t you baby? Taking daddy’s cock like the good girl you are.” He grunted and scratched her hips the more he thrusted himself into her swollen pussy while she nodded continuously before flopping her head onto his shoulder as he started letting out moans himself and wrapping his arm around her even tighter “c’mon s-sweet girl cum for me, cum for daddy.” She cried out in pleasure against his skin before lifting her head and kissing him the moment he made her cum “i-i’m cumming!” She cried out as his thrusts got sloppier while the apartment was surrounded with skin slapping, heavy breathing & the two mumbling to eachother. “Daddy ‘m cumming!!” She moaned into her ears as she came around his dick & eventually him quickly pulling out & cumming against his & Y/N’s stomach.

He held her as close to him as possible breathing heavily while she giggled in his ear followed him his chuckling & grabbing her face to get another kiss out of her before getting off of the couch & carrying her into the bathroom setting up a bubble bath. While they waited her stood in-between her legs & hugged onto her “I think it’s safe to say you’re my girlfriend now right?” Y/N laughed with him and nodded her head tiredly before he finally set her in the tub & washed off her body. “I promise next week I’ll give you a proper date.” He joked but he was also serious. Y/N smiled in exhaustion “I’m sure y’will Codes.” He grinned and kissed her cheek.

he continued catering to her for the night & giving her the aftercare she deserved and spending the night after realizing she’s loved him for as long as he’s loved her.

xtripleiiix’s Masterlist

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

miss oranje's faves: self-recs edition

i'm not used to praising myself bc i am my biggest hater, not my biggest fan, but i was tagged by the lovely @gothcsz to participate in @jolapeno 's 'tootathon' challenge, and i originally was going to pass up the opportunity butttt i suppose i'll *try* to say nice things about myself but i love the people in this fandom so i always enjoy participating in the fun, particularly something that promotes positivity when fandoms can be so toxic sometimes. honestly, i might need to steal this idea and make a positivity challenge for the resident evil fandom (which is what i primarily write for) because we are in need of good vibes…

*because my blog is multi-fandom, my masterlist is getting big overall, so i'm going to link my javi fics and my joel fics (along with my liztober '24 because there are a couple other pedro character fics on there)

i haven't been a part of the pedro pascal fandom for long, so my work here is limited, but i will share a few things:

it's never over (javi p x reader) - a two part fic (part one is from javi's perspective, part two is from reader's)

I really liked the concept for this fic and it was something that I wrote bits and pieces of for a while. I tried to change it to a single pov because i think i’m not someone who does well with pov switches like this, but it never captured the full scope of the story i wanted to tell when i tried to make it only javi’s or only reader’s. Ultimately, while i’d like to add onto this fic because i would like to expand upon reader’s pov, i like the story that i told in the end (i love angst). Maybe there will be a part 3…

2. and for dessert? (javi p x reader) - a short, mildly smutty story about javi and a housekeeper at a hotel

i hated this fic for a while because i got caught up in the numbers but i reread it last night and i was like, ‘okay, the concept is incredibly silly, but i guess in some way, that’s the point’. Anyway, when i looked back and stopped focusing on the numbers, i realized that i actually really like this fic, and probably wouldn’t change anything about it.

3. anniversary antics (joel x reader) - joel and his wife getting it on ... heavy breeding kink here

i wrote this in an hour or so. it just came to me. straight from the smutty brain (which is rare). this is one of the few fics of mine that i re-read and actually think 'oh this is hot'!

4. everything's bigger in texas (joel x reader) - for my liztober celebration! reader loses her virginity to joel and it's a sweet and short smut.

this is my second most popular tumblr post of all time (so it doesn’t need promo here), which is very funny because i almost didn't post this at all. i thought the size kink might be too basic and overdone but i also really wanted to write an 'older' reader as i have a tendency to write younger readers (which is partially because i am 24 and have never been older than 24 vs i have been 21 etc.) and i wanted to get away from the typical innocent virgin thing.

and also, we're gonna get personal here... i'm pretty sure i have vaginismus and so it's really really difficult to have sex. i've been shamed or questioned rather than reassured during situations where i struggle or am entirely unable to. reader in this fic was not specified to have vaginismus because i was trying to keep it light and smutty, flipping it around into a size kink, but it was a bit healing to write tbh. 

I’m pretty sure everyone has already been tagged but i’ll tag some of my mutuals just in case:

@clawdee @evolnoomym @baronessvonglitter @the-mandawhor1an

[jananabananawithnopeel]

I really don't want to make my current drawing because of the evil P word. So I did a drawing to counter my drawing. But now I don't want to render this drawing. Maybe I should start a new drawing ?

Finished piece

Anyway. I have this picture of Sean Connery and his wife.

I love this picture so I wanted to make a Polin version of it. But it kept feeling familiar somehow.

It took me way too long to realize the promo for season 3 had exactly the same pose.

Luke Newton in a black tuxedo. When ? Oh, wait... Nervermind.

Also I still can't believe how cute Nicola Coughlan is. Every time I open my reference folder with her pretty face it's the same all over again ❤️

[just-a-creep-babe]

O saw your promo and could i get laughing jack woth fem reader with 25.

“Don’t look at me like that. You asked for this.”

62. “One last time. Please. I—I need one last touch.”

48. “God, you’re like a bitch in heat. Do you even realise how desperate you look, riding my thigh like that?”

With the theme of break up sex with laughing jack doing the breaking up and the reader beggong for one last touch

Wrote this a Hot Minute™ ago so now I'm looking back at the writing like... yikes, I could do better atp 💀💀

Anyways, I hope you can still find some kind of enjoyment out of this ^^; LMK what ya think!!

~Requests are closed~

Masterlist: x

25. “Don’t look at me like that. You asked for this.” 

48. “God, you’re like a bitch in heat. Do you even realize how desperate you look, riding my thigh like that?”

62. “One last time. Please. I—I need one last touch.” 

“Don’t look at me like that. You asked for this”

Your heart clenches

Inhumanly white eyes pierce through you

Where once, they would’ve been filled with nothing but love and admiration, his gaze now burns with anger and disdain

You’re on the verge of tears

You can’t lose him

Not like this

Dear God, not like this!

His lips curl over his sharp teeth in a sneer, and with a huff, he turns away from you

“Jack!”

You reach out and grab his arm in a rush of panic

He stops dead in his tracks, and the way his body tenses has your blood going cold

You’re suddenly reminded of what he is; a monster

He had loved you at one point, cared for you, protected you

But somehow, that’d changed, and now, here you are, faced with the monstrous part he previously would’ve never bared towards you

You swallow thickly

You can’t help but notice how sharp his claws are as he curls his hands into a fist

Sharp like knives

“P-please”

Your voice is uneven when it escapes you, so you try again

“One last time. Please. I—I need one last touch”

It’s a long shot, you know it is

But you’ll take whatever you can get

Any second longer—you’ll beg for scraps of his attention if you need to

There’s a growl from deep within his chest, something low and rumbly and dangerous

Some part of your brain tries to tell you to let him go

But you don’t want to listen

You need him

You stay rooted in place, even when he turns to face you, even when his intimidating form towers over you menacingly

“Jack,” you breathe his name

And you know you’re so, so incredibly pathetic right now, begging him to touch you as he’s about to leave you

But you don’t care

It doesn’t matter—none of it does

You just need him one last time

He snorts, and your heart shatters, thinking he won’t even give you this one last bit of closure

His clawed hand grips at your cheek, threatening to piece flesh

You wince, closing your eyes

But then his lips are on yours, and your mind is going blank at the feeling

He kisses you roughly—fervently

You sigh against him, your hands following a familiar path to his jagged locks to tug him in even closer

He growls again, but it doesn’t scare you like it did before

You want him—monstrous side and all

His teeth scrape at your lips, filling your mouth with the taste of copper

You’ve no doubt it was on purpose

But you don’t care

You tug at him, tug at his hair, his clothes, anything you can get your hands on

You know you don’t have much time left with him, but right now, it doesn’t matter

He’s yours

He’s all yours right now

You push yourself against him, trying to minimize the distance between the two of you to nothing

He backs up a few paces as you do, and you’re almost disappointed, before he pulls you into him for you to follow

Claws at your hips, you’re yanked against him until you lose your balance and topple into him

You land on his lap, and you realize he must’ve done it on purpose because the couch is beneath him and you’re straddling his thighs just perfectly

You groan into the kiss

Heat pools in your stomach, making your sex clench eagerly already

He’s barely done anything and you’re already so needy for him

His grip is bruising, his kiss hard enough to make your head spin

When his tongue parts your lips to taste you, you squeeze your legs together and whimper

It seems he’s still not immune to you, because when he hears the sound you make, you feel his bulge twitch against your hips

You’re practically frenzied

Your body moves on its own to grind down on his leg

Anything to feel him—to relieve the ache that’s driving you insane

He breaks the kiss, a strand of saliva splitting between the two of you as he does

And it’s filthy, but you can’t help but love it

“God, you’re like a bitch in heat. Do you even realize how desperate you look, riding my thigh like that?”

There’s a bite to his words as he says it

You don’t care

You’ll be as desperate as it takes if it means he’ll fuck you again

You drag his hands up from your hips to press them both to your chest

“P-please~ Please, Master, fuck me~”

Bringing up the old pet name gets you just the reaction you wanted

He snaps, flips you on your back, and in an instant, you find yourself naked beneath him

The growl that escapes him is dangerously threatening, but all that does is coax you to spread your legs so that he can just fuck you already

One hand wraps around your throat, encompassing it completely until his fingers are touching the back of your neck

And with his other hand, he quickly undoes his pants to free his hard-on

You’re barely given a second to appreciate the sight of him before he’s plunging it all the way into your tight little cunt

He’s so big

Even now, wet as you are for him, it still takes a few thrusts to finally split you open for the entirety of his shaft

Your jaw goes slack, eyes rolling back and your chest arching up into him

You knew he wasn’t planning on going easy on you

But nothing could’ve prepared you for the way he almost immediately pulls out, just to slam all the way back into you

You aren’t given any time to adjust

Hell, you’re hardly given any time to catch your breath between rough slams of hips into yours

It’s like he’s trying to fuck you in half

Your hands try to grip at him, at the couch beneath you—anything—but there’s nothing you can do to help keep you grounded

“I’m gonna break you,” he growls, and you hardly have the mental capacity to listen, but you force yourself to hang off of his every word as he uses you

“Gonna break you so that no one else will ever be able to make you feel as good”

You make some pathetic whimper because fuck, you’re going to cum already

“I’ll ruin that pretty little cunt”

His hand around your neck tightens and you feel yourself getting lightheaded

Lips parted, eyes clouded over, you gasp for air, and he uses the opportunity to lean over and spit into your mouth

You clench around him and cum—hard

He doesn’t relent as you do

If anything, it only encourages him to use you harder

“You won’t fucking forget who you belong to, no matter how many people you try to date after me”

His words blur together as your body tenses with the rush of endorphins

It’s like you can’t stop shaking, can’t stop yourself from trying to milk him through your orgasm

The way he snarls and growls above you, hips shamelessly pistoning into your inviting heat—it’s too much

“(Y/n)—“

You nearly cum again when he growls your name

His hand leaves your neck, and you’re about to gasp for air when he suddenly forces his lips on yours again

When you kiss him back, his pace falters for the first time, and you know he’s getting close

You’re almost grateful because you don’t know how much more you can take

“Beg,” he snarls when he breaks the kiss, “beg for me to cum inside you. Beg for me to defile you”

You open your mouth, but all that escapes is a sickly slew of moans and whimpers

It seems to anger him, and with a growl, he crams more of his length as deep into you as he can

He’s hitting your cervix

“P-please! Please!”

Tears blur your vision as you cry out for him

Too much—it’s too much!

“Jack—please cum inside me!”

With one last deep snarl, he snaps his hips all the way forward, and then you feel him twitch as he empties himself inside you

It’s euphoric

You don’t want it to end, don’t want him to stop

Even if you physically can’t handle it, you want more

You wriggle beneath him, as if that could make him stay longer

But it’s over all too quickly as he pulls out

You snap your legs shut before his cum can leak out

“Jack, please… Don’t go”

Your quiet plea falls on deaf ears

“You lost your chance, (y/n)” he snarls

There’s a mix of lust and disdain in his eyes as he looks down at you

"We’re done”

[ofmdrecaps]

11/13-14/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; David Jenkins; Rhys Darby; Taika Waititi; Con O'Neill; Nathan Foad; Kristian Nairn; Anapela Polata'ivao; Vico Ortiz; Jes Tom; Zayre Ferrer; Petition Status; Articles; Transgender Awareness Week; Love Notes;

Hey crew! So I am trying VERY HARD to be better about alt text across all the platforms, and it's taking way longer for me to get things out because of it. If anyone has a good idea on how to do those more easily will you please let me know? I do want to try to be more accessible (and I know the Repo is absolutely not terribly accessible at the moment). Anyway-- thanks Crew! Happy Friday!

= David Jenkins =

Chaos Dad out partying!

Source: King Malisz's Instagram

Apparently (and I didn't know this, so thank you to the folks who explained to me wtf was going on) apparently CIS is considered a slur on twitter and will literally make your posts un-retweetable, and so Dad decided to go full hog and cause Cissmegeddon the other day. Props to our crewmates who helped him irritate the shit out of Elon.

Source: David Jenkins Twitter

= Rhys Darby =

Rhys is going to Australia in April! Apr 30, 2025 at the Princess Theatre in Brisbane you can see the legend in person! Are you in town then? Get tickets here!

Source: Adopt Our Crew's Twitter

He's also announced all his UK & Ireland Tour Dates for 2025! You can buy tickets here!

Source: Rhys' Instagram

Reminder about new Atlanta show at the Helium clubs Nov 29, 30, and Dec 1st! Get tickets here!

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Rhys Darby (@rhysiedarby)

Source: Rhys Instagram Stories

= Taika Waititi =

Interior Chinatown is almost here! Remember to check it out on November 19th on HULU! Taika was out doing lots of promos with the crew!

Source: Sthanlee's Instagram

Source: Variety Instagram

Source: Jerabraham

= Con O'Neill =

Con is going to be in a new sitcom SAS Rogue Heroes! Thank you to Irene Adler for finding this! Sun.co.uk Article.

Source: Irene Adler's Instagram

= Nathan Foad =

Nathan sent us a bathroom selfie-- and ALSO shared this awesome review of Voyage of the Damned (the book he narrated) by _brainbowie_ on instagram! OH AND JUST BY THE WAY-- IT WAS NOMINATED for Audible's "Best Audiobooks of the Year 2024 in both the SFF list AND the Top 20 overall!!"

ANNND if you have read it and would like to help Voyage of the Damned out -- please put a review up on Audible! Let the world know how much Nathan's voice should be cherished! In addition - if you haven't already, please help Nathan and the author out by voting for it on Goodreads for 2024's Goodreads Choice Awards!

Source: Goodreads

= Kristian Nairn =

Kristian was kind enough to share a playlist featuring his love of synthwave!

Source: Kristian Nairn's Instagram

= Anapela Polataivao =

Source: The Guerilla Connection Instagram

BTS of The Guerilla Connection!

Source: TheGuerillaConnection

= Vico Ortiz =

Vico had a great time at their first stand up comedy show! More random IG stories of it!

Source: Vico's Instagram Stories

= Jes Tom =

Jes Tom is out at Little Secrets Comedy tonight at the New York Comedy Festival if you're in town! November 15 @ 10:30 pm - 11:30 pm!

Source: Jes Tom's Instagram

= Zayre Ferrer =

Thank you so much to @adoptourcrew and Zadry Ferrer for highlighting this awesome Fellowship award awarded to our dear writer Zayre Ferrer! They were named one of the #inevitablefoundation's 2024 Visionary Fellows!

Source: Zadryg.bsky via @adoptourcrew

== Petition Status ==

Great news! Up to 90,150 signatures! To all our new OFMD fans out there, have you signed the petition yet? Thank you luci5459.bsky.social for sharing! (and @adoptourcrew for promoting!) https://www.change.org/p/save-our-flag-means-death

Source: Luci5429.bsky.social

== Articles ==

More articles featuring OFMD and Zayre Ferrer! Thanks @adoptourcrew!

Source: Adopt Our Crew Bsky

== Transgender Awareness Week ==

Happy Transgender Awareness week crew! Sending all my love out to our trans siblings out there <3 Especially know, please know how much we see and love you, and we have your backs no matter what comes, okay? Wanna learn more about Transgender Awareness Week and how you can help be a better ally? Visit GLAAD's website.

Source: Glaad Website

== Love Notes ==

Wow, now as you can tell, a lots gone on the last couple days! Especially with Rhys! Jeez! Everything seems to be ramping up, which is pretty great -- I don't know if you all are feeling the energy too, but it's nice to see some good things going on in these uncertain times. I know things are still rough right now, and some of you are itching to get out and make a difference. Please know that if you are feeling up for it now, it's totally okay to do that. Find things to do in your local community, find out how ot help online-- whatever you feel comfortable with. --and if you're not quite ready yet, that's okay too. I took two days off work this week despite having a huge project to finish, because I got sick, and my brain told me it needed a break, that there had been too much. I know not everyone has the luxery of doing that-- but if you do, please take some time if you need it. I've probably mentioned this before, but something that always bothers me about the phrase "You can't help anyone else if you don't help yourself!" is that that's not entirely true. YOU CAN. You can do all sorts of stuff without helping yourself, and by tiring yourself, and burning yourself out. But it's not sustainable, and you can't do it forever. You are so very strong, and I bet you could help so many people, and family and burn brightly until there was nothing left of you-- but that's not what any of us want. We want you to be okay on the other side of all this-- and sometimes that means taking a break even when things feel like they just can't wait. We care so much for you lovelies. Please care for yourselves too if you need it <3

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by You Are Another Me (@you.are.another.me)

Source: You are another me Instagram

[stygiansun-totaleclipse]

So... I just played the update demo... ... ... ...

Did I cry? Yes, of course I did.

Did I love it? YES, OF COURSE I DID.

I was bawling my eyes out and at the same time I was saying how good this is, this IF? TOP THREE IF NOT THE NUMBER ONE OF MY FAVE IFs!

You destroyed me, again, in the best way possible. You gave me so much and it's not event the first full chapter... I fear what'll become of me when you finish it and I'll play it (over and over again, bc I have to romance everyone, but my first playthrough, I decided it'll be a solo run...)

AND, the first time I saw the promo and the description of the characters and your art I was like: I will go for Kieran BUT NOW I'M GGGNGG because I love Aurynn and Samira and I have a grudge against Celestyl... because I love the siblings and after (again) crying over Parim, you then gave us Aurora and Ember and Castor AND POSSIBLY [SPOILERS FOR THE ONE WHO DIDN'T PLAY THE UPDATE] NOUR?? AAAAA

Anyway, I don't like fate, I hope Kieran didn't have a hand in killing any of our MC siblings (nor Nihm or Lilith/Lucien - I still need to see them and understand gfdgfgdf) buuut... yeah... this was a rollercoaster and, since I love myself very much, thank you, I had to chose again the heartbroken choice and see this: Seven pairs of feet. Now two. I'm... on the... ground... crying...

Anyway, before leaving you with this big ask of me rambling and ranting, fun fact: Since Castor's death, you've taken to using his sword... I couldn't finish to read this out loud without letting out a whimper and cry some more. Thank you, I give it 5 stars out of 5, I would recommend it to everyone, a 3000/1000 and you are such a good writer, your story is amazing and yes, I hope the rooms are not empty, that someone is taking care of them (and Parim's birds) and that nothing (more) happened to the tea set.

I never felt more attached to something like that, ever, but it's PARIM'S SO GNGNGNGN

Thank you, I hope you enjoyed this rambling, if not I'm sorry, didn'd mean to and thank you for making all of this.

The new UI is AMAZING, I love everything and I have to understand a little more how the stats work (it's a me thing, you did a great job! ♥) and I loved the codex.

Did it break my heart, because there was the cause of death? The million question, isn't it? (spoiler: yes)

Tlrd: Thank you, I love it. ♥♥♥♥

Thank you so much 🥺🥺🥺❤️❤️💕 What a sweet ask 😭 I always get excited and nervous at the same time to post demo updates and this update was the hardest so far to write so it makes me really happy to hear how much everyone has enjoyed it! ❤️ I’m so honored you consider it one of your favorites!!?! <3

It makes me really happy to see that people like these characters so much! I literally think about them all the time lmao there’s no escape. Every song is about the blorbos. I’m excited to introduce everyone to the rest of them! Hope you’ll give them a chance to warm up to them—there are both good and bad people everywhere in every country and you can never write off an entire people :) ❤️❤️

I ended up changing the weapon choices slightly and making one the main for each of MCs siblings that have died bc I wanted to include that tidbit about MCs weapon being their sibling’s—Parim’s spear, Aurora’s axe, Castor’s sword, or Ember’s bow :3❤️ \(T-T)/

And yes 🥺😭 the sibs’ rooms should never be emptied—Lady Safina still tends to her kids rooms and makes sure they’re clean and that Aurora’s beaded curtains still clack and clatter in the breeze when she airs out the rom and that the birds won’t ever abandon Parim’s balcony. She thinks they’d have liked that.

I put a lot of work into the UI changes and implementing the codex (coding is so hard 😭) so thank you!! I’m excited to keep adding to it and I gotta figure out how to adjust the UI and interface of it. :P Problem for future me 😰

Again thank you so much for reading and for your ask!! ❤️❤️ I always love hearing from readers no matter how big or small!! 💕:D

[destinyc1020]

I'm glad that anon has access to Zs phone and email and knows everybody that Z is friends with. Storm has repeatedly mentioned how Z was one of the few industry people that were openly available to her whenever she had any questions. She mentioned that during A Wrinkle in Time promo many artists claimed that she could contact them at any time, but that Z was one of the select few that actually meant it. We have seen Z attending small Storm bday parties p

Regarding Euphoria, Z is having a very contentious relationship with HBO execs and the Levinsons. She doesn't have control about who's been asked to come back this season. Also Storm had mentioned that she was looking forward to come back for the third season, then she mentioned that she had not been asked to come back and now says that she's "busy". It seems to be a spin to portray her not coming back as her decision when it was not. As we've seen, HBO is enforcing the contracts of the actors they want to bring back. All this doesn't mean anything about Storm and Zs relationship

I agree girl. 👍🏾

I listen to what people SAY about a person. And Storm has repeatedly talked about how Zendaya has been there like an older sister for her in this industry. Why would that change all of a sudden?

Besides, Z got engaged over the holidays, when most people are busy and concerned with traveling and being with their family members.

Then, we had the Golden Globes, where Z was nominated, and she dropped the bomb on everyone that she was engaged.

Then, let's see.... what else happened around that time... 🤔 Oh YES! Southern California has basically been on FIRE 🔥 since the day after the Golden Globes!! 😳😳😳

People are out there losing their homes, losing family members, losing their precious items, memories.... whole communities have been WIPED OUT due to these flames.... 😩 Celebrities have been traveling, trying to get away from the fires and the bad air quality.

Oh, and Z's grandmother just passed away. 😭

So, EXCUSE her if she and Storm haven't exactly had a chance to catch up since she got engaged! 🥴

The news itself just dropped on the 5th of Jan. We're only the 24th. Technically, it's only been a little over 2 weeks since the public knew.

Anyway, I agree with your assessment about Storm/Euphoria/Z, etc. I think she wasn't asked to come back to the show. 😔 I don't think it had anything to do wth Z though. I think they're still close. Honestly? I just assumed that this season they were aging the characters, and maybe Storm's look didn't fit the age range that they would need her to be. 🤷🏾‍♀️

But hey, who knows?? Maybe she might just be killed off. 👀

[batsyvie]

Day 12 —> Job. This sequence is pretty much directly taken from my fic “All time ever does is pass//and all I ever do is remember” (shameless self-promo).

When I tell you i almost killed a man to make this. I wanted to do a little sketchy comic but couldn’t figure out how to do simple enough rocks. before i know it i’ve accidentally started rendering and you KNOW i can’t have rendered bloody rocks and flats for the rest, so that meant i had to render the entire comic. but it turns out rendering said entire comic requires TOO MUCH FUCKIN MEMORY FOR KRITA which meant that when i went to add the final touch to the comic, KRITA WOULDNT STOP CRASHING. so k surfed reddit and other random forums for a bit, to no avail and decided “fook it” instead of c/p-ing this stupid background, im just gonna recreate it, which took me a stupid amount of time because of how SLOWWW krita had become. and then my hand writing looked like utter shite. which reminds me; here’s the transcript:

PANEL TWO:

Aziraphale off-screen: “Oh…”

PANEL THREE:

‘“It’s beautiful,” spoke Aziraphale.’

PANEL FOUR:

‘“Yes,” replied Crawley, “It is, rather.”’

Anyways. I hope you enjoy!!!!!!!!!!!! 🩷🩷💖💖🧡🧡

[alarrytale]

If this new stunt situation means bbg is ending, then I would be really suprised but I´m very skeptical about that, bbg lasts way too long to end that easily imo and because he willing to throw larries - the most loyal part of the fandom - under the bus because "F is my whole world" anyday, idk if there´s a way out of it. And if it´s now shifting to suddenly play the p-word card ´cause the kiddo suddenly needs to be protected after 10 years than he will be stuck with it with no real expiration date, he will continue to be the father of the year 2 times per year with a change that sisters will now cover his face "bEcAuSe bRoThEr SaId pRiVaCy!". But anyway, let´s say this - remember how you wrote multiple times that you have no idea who will be willing to stunt with Louis because the woman won´t get anything from this. Oh well, so they actually found someone who´s willing to stunt with Louis - the reality show star, the desperatest sort of people who wants PR and attention no matter what. I guess noone else would like to stunt with him and you meantioned it multiple times why - the woman who is willing to stunt with Louis should know she won´t get much out of it, too much efford nothing. So there are no female singers, no actresses, no models in the potentional beards list. That´s why we got this woman no matter if we like it or not, it screams desperation and it is indeed the desperation. Also we know that Louis was beard-free for way too long. If there´s nothing to promote, my only excuse for this coming up mess is that he´s planning to pull the TS method (just like H also doing this) and needs an reason for his lovesongs for LT3. As he mentioned in autumn, he needs to let life in first. So he´s gonna pretend how he´s in love, wrote songs that will be supposed to be about her but we know who´s the real person for who those songs are. Very easy. Honestly, I am not bothered whatever they gonna do because Louis´ stunts don´t work on me. What bothers me is how shit his image is right now, his teams lack of competence to do anything with it and what larries´ exodus it will cause. Because I like this community here as it´s my safe space including your blog.

Hi, anon!

I don't think we're getting this stunt because bg is ending either, but bg ending is the only thing that would justify the need for this stunt in mye eyes. He doesn’t need a beard when he's got bg, and while he does need promo and to raise his profile, this will give him some in the UK, but at the expense of loss of international fans and streams. This relationship will only give them both grief from fandom.

If Louis needs a public muse for LT3, how is an unknown trash-TV contestant and tabloid drama feeder going to help him sell his album?

It's just bad decisions followed by more bad decisions from Louis. This train heading for that wall, that we all can see, that we all hope the driver will be able to stop in time, just picked up speed...