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luvismenu · 1 day ago

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Only When It's Us — JJK ,, index ,, about taglist

Chapter 02 — distraction ✎

fic summary: you both say it’s nothing serious, but with every touch and argument, it gets harder to stay away.

nsfw warnings: smut; lots of kissing, lots of touching lol, oral (male recieving, fem too? kinda), sucking fingers, doggy style, unprotected sex (shes using birth control so yep, be safe!) use of ‘good girl’

wc: 6k

📜 permanent taglist: @lovieku @kyuupii @fluttershypoo @deluluisdasolulu @ddanasjk @mar-lo-pap @jungkooks-wife @diamondjeon @nnybtitts08 @lil0u0 @butnotmontana @fr0ggieth1nk @minimoninini @whoa-jo @lola75111 @iswearimover5feetall @rispwr @leemonis-blog

📜 series taglist: @deepikhaprakash @rjooniesdimples @sweetmimosa28

abt series taglist: send me an ask w the series title !!

“i have to go.”

“why don’t you just come back home? you can start over, and this time, maybe you’ll be more like your brother.”

you sigh.

“mom, i don’t want to be him,” you say quietly, trying to keep the frustration out of your voice. on the other end, you hear her let out a soft, disapproving tsk, a sound that always manages to make you feel a little smaller.

“aren’t you clearly struggling with school? if you were here with us, with your brother, we’d help you. you’d be fine,” she insists, as if coming home would magically fix everything.

you roll your eyes.

“i really have to go.”

“___, just listen to—”

but before she can finish, you end the call, staring at the blank screen for a moment.

there’s an unsettling feeling in your chest, one that refuses to fade, no matter how much you try to brush it off. its like a quiet reminder of all the things you’re trying to avoid.

go back home?

after everything you’ve been through to study what you want, to finally live on your own terms. every argument, every latenight fight with your parents, all just to claim a bit of freedom.

you worked so hard to break free from their expectations, to stand on your own.

you even transferred universities just to escape the constant pressure back in your hometown. no matter what you did, it was never enough. every choice was somehow wrong, not ‘their way.’

you can’t go back now.

not until you’ve made it, not until you have something real to prove them wrong. you have to be successful, if only to show them that your way was the right way all along.

“hey, are you done thinking? never seen anyone contemplate cheerios this hard.”

min yoongi’s low voice pulls you out of your thoughts. you look up, finding him behind the cash register, his lips curving into a small smile.

“just wondering if i can actually trust your store’s products. what if you are some sort of cheerio secret agent and you're trying to poison me?” you joke, handing him the money.

“oh no, you figured it out. we’ve been poisoning the cheerios. now how am i gonna explain to my boss that our mission failed?” he dramatically placesb a hand on his forehead as if you revealed his deepest darkest secret. you can’t help but chuckle, the tension in your chest loosening just a bit.

“bad day?” he asks, his gaze softening a bit as he opens the cash register.

min yoongi; your friend.

well, he's more like your senior. he graduated last year and he is working parttime at this convenience store cuz he thinks in this way he could spend some time outside.

you didn't question him about it any further.

you don’t usually come here unless it’s an emergency, and breakfast for tomorrow qualifies as pretty urgent, or so you tell yourself.

“something like that,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

he nods slightly. “well,” he begins, “i’m sorry i can’t give you a discount,” he adds, trying to lighten the mood.

you chuckle, the corners of your mouth lifting. “aw, that’s too bad. i thought i might get these cheerios for free.”

he smiles softly, “maybe some other time,"

you smile back at yoongi and turn to leave. but then you almost bump your head against a man’s chest, stumbling back in surprise.

that was close.

you look up to apologize, but your words get caught in your throat as you take in his appearance.

he’s handsome.

no, that doesn’t even begin to cover it. his face is sculpted to perfection, with sharp cheekbones and a jawline that could cut glass. his dark eyes seem to pierce right through you, and his long, dark hair falls effortlessly over his forehead.

but there’s something else,

he looks... mad?

you quickly gather yourself, your cheeks warming slightly. “sorry,” you blurt out, stepping aside to let him pass.

as you walk out of the store, you catch a snippet of conversation behind you.

“are you still upset about her, jungkook?” yoongi’s voice carries just enough for you to hear.

you try to shake it off, not wanting to dwell on whatever is unfolding behind you. it’s not your business, after all.

you step outside, the cool air hitting your face as you leave the store, and try to focus on the tasks ahead of you.

“it doesn’t make any sense, hyung,” jungkook scoffs, the frustration bubbling up inside him.

“when did she ever make sense?” yoongi replies dryly, not backing down as he meets jungkook’s glare. the tension in the air feels thick, but yoongi isn’t afraid to speak his mind.

“from my point of view, you’re now a free man. free from all the bullshit you’ve been through,” yoongi explains, hoping to lift jungkook’s spirits.

“what bullshit? i was happy. we were happy,” jungkook frowns, his confusion evident. he shifts his weight from one foot to the other, struggling to comprehend yoongi’s words.

“that’s what she wanted you to think,” yoongi replies, his tone serious. “and to be honest, that’s what you always did. you did whatever she wanted. you changed for her.”

“i loved her,” jungkook insists, his voice a bit softer but still filled with conviction, as if saying it out loud would make it true.

“did you? really?” yoongi presses, searching jungkook’s eyes for any hint of doubt. he knows this is a tough conversation, but it needs to be talked out.

jungkook looks away and mutters. “you don’t get it,”

yoongi’s expression softens. he presses his lips together as he looks at jungkook, feeling bad for him. “i’m sorry, jungkook. but you really have to let it go now. it’s been two weeks. it’s time to start moving on.”

jungkook stays silent.

instead of responding, he reaches for a lollipop displayed near the cash register, the bright colors contrasting sharply with his gloomy mood. he hands yoongi some money, more than what the lollipop costs, as if he’s paying for more than just candy.

“do you want the change, or can i keep it as a tip for my great service slash friendship?” yoongi tries to lighten the mood, hoping to bring a smile to jungkook’s face.

and it does.

jungkook’s lips curl into a faint smile, a small but genuine response. “keep it,” he says softly.

as jungkook turns to leave, yoongi watches him go, feeling sad for his friend.

“bad day indeed.”

you're sat on a bench in the park near the convenience store, lost in your own thoughts. the quiet sounds of the evening settle around you, the faint rustle of leaves, the distant hum of traffic, and your own sighs mingling with the cool air.

you’re not really thinking about anything in particular, just letting your mind wander in that aimless way it does when everything feels overwhelming.

then, a loud voice cuts through your thoughts.

“no, i know you're hiding something from me!” someone snaps, his voice taut with irritation. “fine! have it your way then.”

curious, you glance over and recognize him immediately; the same man from earlier at the store, the one you’d nearly bumped into.

he’s pacing as he talks on his phone, one hand running through his dark hair in exasperation. his jaw is clenched, his brows furrowed, and you can practically feel the tension radiating off him even from a distance.

after a moment, he ends the call with an aggravated sigh, stuffing his phone into his pocket as he makes his way into the park, still visibly upset. he barely notices his surroundings as he walks closer to where you’re sitting.

he sighs, tilting his head back and closing his eyes, muttering something under his breath as if willing the frustration to melt away. you can’t help but stare a little, like an idiot.

then his eyes snap open and land directly on you.

“got a problem with me?” his voice is sharp, cutting through the silence between you.

you blink, startled, and stand up instinctively. “excuse me?”

he turns fully to face you, his eyes never leaving yours. “i asked, you got a problem with me?”

“no.” you shake your head, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“good.”

wow. nice attitude.

just as you’re about to walk away, he calls out again.

“never seen you around here before.”

“pardon?” you turn back, surprised.

“you’re yoongi's friend, right?” he asks,

you cross your arms, giving him a wary look. “why do you care?”

he shrugs, almost nonchalant. “my bad, just curious. never seen yoongi smile at a normal customer before, so i assumed.”

“oh,” you reply, softening just a bit. “well, i guess you could say we're friends.”

he raises an eyebrow, an amused smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “you guess?”

you offer a small shrug of your own. “he used to help me when i was still a freshman, and he still tries to whenever he can. i'd say he's like my teacher, in a way. it’s not like we hang out or anything, though.”

he tilts his head, considering your words. “well, consider yourselves friends. trust me, he doesn’t just help anyone.”

you narrow your eyes slightly, still wary. “and who are you, exactly?”

“jeon jungkook,” he says, extending a hand with a surprisingly polite nod. instinctively, you reach out and shake it, his grip firm. “since you're yoongi's friend, i think we go to the same university. though this is the first time i’m seeing you.”

“same, i am ___,” you pull your hand back.

“what are you doing here, in the middle of the night? didn’t your parents ever tell you not to go out alone?” he asks, the way he talks is somewhere between teasing and serious. you can't quiet get what it is but something about it grates on your nerves, like he's playing at being concerned but in a way that feels almost mocking.

“i could ask you the same thing,” you shoot back, meeting his gaze head on.

he doesn’t flinch, only tilts his head slightly. “i always come here,” he says, his voice calm, almost like a matterof fact.

“same,” you respond. “during the day.”

he quirks a brow, “so why are you in my night shift?”

you scoff, a laugh slipping out before you can stop it. “this isn’t your place or ‘shift,’ you know."

“well, you come here during the day; i come here at night. sounds like shifts to me,” he says with a shrug, and you catch the playfulness on his face.

“guess i’m overtiming, then,” you say, glancing away to hide your own smirk. “don’t mind me.”

he stays silent.

“you’ve got your own shit to deal with, huh?” he says, his voice breaking the quiet.

“why are you talking to me?” you blurt out, catching him a little off guard. “i mean, you don’t even know me.”

he raises an eyebrow, unphased. “i could ask you the same thing,” he replies, mimicking your answer from before.

you narrow your eyes, folding your arms. “i don’t think i want to talk about my problems with a random stranger.”

“problems…” he echoes, looking you up and down like he’s trying to figure you out. “let me guess. got into a fight with your boyfriend?”

“no,” you say quickly, rolling your eyes. “i don’t have one.” for a second, you think you catch a flicker of surprise on his face. “what about you? girlfriend mad at you?”

his face shifts, something almost vulnerable passing over his features before he looks away. “guess you could say that,” he mutters. “since she broke things off with me.”

a silence stretches between you two.

“i’m… sorry to hear that,” you finally say, feeling the awkwardness settle around you.

you didn't expect that.

honestly, the idea of someone like him getting dumped hadn’t even crossed your mind. a guy who looks like that—that intense aura—doesn’t exactly seem like the type to get left behind.

you assumed he’d be the one calling the shots, the one walking away. but here he is, single and clearly dealing with the aftermath of something that’s weighing on him. its surprising.

a thought crosses yourmind.

if someone could leave him, someone who had a place in his life and a claim to his heart, maybe he’s not as perfect as he seems on the outside. maybe there’s something beneath the surface, something that’s harder to deal with than his looks would suggest.

it’s like a puzzle you didn’t even mean to start solving, yet here you are, wondering if there’s more to him than just that handsome face.

but then you shake the thought away. he’s a stranger. a random guy you happened to bump into, quite literally, at a park in the middle of the night. it’s not like you’ll see him again after tonight. or, at least, that’s what you’re telling yourself.

because, really, why should you care?

whatever his story is, it’s none of your business.

“anyway, hope you figure your problems out.” he says, his gaze flickering away as if he’s eager to dodge any deeper conversation.

“likewise,” you reply.

without warning, he pulls a lollipop from his pocket, holding it out to you. “here,” he says, waiting for you to take it.

you reach out slowly, raising an eyebrow. “thanks?”

he smirks, “again, did your parents never tell you not to take candy from strangers?”

“maybe i like to be a little rebellious,” you say, smirking back at him and he shakes his head smiling.

“well, go ahead, eat it. i don’t want you tossing it away. i spent a lot on that sucker,” he says, a playful grin spreading across his face. despite the oddness of the moment, a corner of your mouth quirks up.

you unwrap the lollipop, examining it with a critical eye before giving him a look that says it all.

he catches it, tilting his head in curiosity. “what?”

“i don’t think i like raspberry flavor,” you admit, holding the lollipop up like a trophy of sorts.

he squints at you, “you’ve never tasted one before?”

you shrug, trying to sound nonchalant. “i don’t like raspberries, so i’m guessing this is more of the same.”

he shakes his head, lips twitching into a smirk. “that’s pretty bold, making assumptions without even trying it.”

“just give it a taste; maybe you'll like it,” he suggests, a teasing smile forming on his lips, clearly wanting you to try it. deep down, he doesn't even like raspberry flavor; he just picked it out randomly at the store.

“uh, no thanks. i don’t want that nasty taste on my tongue,” you reply, scrunching your nose a little . “but thanks, you could have—”

your words are abruptly cut off as he grabs your hand, the lollipop still held tightly between your fingers. in one swift motion, he leans in, wrapping his mouth around it. his tongue swirls around the candy, and then he pulls it out, his lips glistening with a reddish-pink hue that matches the flavor.

you're completely taken aback, eyes widening in shock.

oh what the fuck.

“yeah, you’re right. it does taste nasty,” he says, licking his lips as he releases your hand. “give it to me, i'll just throw it away or something”

suddenly, the lollipop feels trivial compared to what he just did. you stand there, completely speechless, your mind and heart racing as you try to process what jus happened.

“what?” he stares at you.

“you’re good with your tongue,” you say, the words slipping out before you can really think them through.

he pauses, his eyes widening for a second, and he chokes on nothing, almost like he’s been caught off guard mid-breath. “uh, what?” he finally manages, blinking rapidly.

realizing how that might’ve sounded, “i just meant... the lollipop. you seemed pretty skilled with it,” you clarify, though you’re aware it’s not really helping.

what are you even trying to say?

he looks at you, a smirk playing on his lips now. “uh-huh, sure,” he says, teasing you. “that’s what you meant.”

you roll your eyes, trying to play it cool. “don’t flatter yourself, i was just making an observation.”

but the way he’s looking at you now, dark eyes glittering with amusement and something else you can’t quite place, makes it hard to pretend that slip of the tongue didn’t mean more than you intended.

“so, do you want to suck on it?”

“huh?” you blink.

suck on what now?

“the lollipop” he clarifies, a small smile playing on his lips.

oh.

you clear your throat, fighting to keep a neutral expression. “no, definitely not, especially now that you had your tongue all over it.” you try to scrunch your nose, but any attempt at showing disgust falls flat with the heat rising in your cheeks.

“alright then, just asking if you changed your mind,” he shrugs, still holding your gaze.

“i still don’t want it,” you say quickly, trying to sound convincing.

“okay.” he blinks, unfazed.

“okay,” you repeat, awkwardly.

he gestures to the lollipop still in your hand. “uh, so… are you gonna keep holding it?”

you glance down, pulling your hand back. “i’m gonna throw it away,” you declare, though it feels a bit ridiculous now, given everything that just happened.

“i hope so,” he says, one side of his lips quirking up.

why do you kind of like his smile?

you try to shake your thought off, tossing the lollipop into a nearby trash can, trying to act as casual as possible.

“well, guess that's the end of that,” you say, hoping to sound nonchalant. he nods as he crosses his arms.

you raise an eyebrow, mimicking his stance. “do you usually hand out half-eaten lollipops to strangers?”

he laughs, low and soft, the sound surprisingly warm in the quiet night. “only when they look like they need a little distraction.”

you tilt your head. “oh? and what made you think i needed one?”

his eyes meet yours, his expression softening. “just a hunch,” he says, his voice dropping to a murmur. “we all got stuff we’d rather not think about, right?”

a pause.

there’s something unspoken between you two, a quiet understanding in the way you hold each other’s gaze.

he's right.

you are stressing about things you'd rather not think about, things that seem to cling to your mind no matter how hard you try to push them away.

and then there's him, a stranger but somehow not, going through his own mess. you can see it in his tired eyes, the way he keeps looking off into the distance as if trying to shake off whatever weight he's carrying.

you realize you don’t mind it; you don’t mind his company, or even the strange comfort of this shared silence.

both of you are here, each trying to forget whatever it is that’s eating at you. maybe that’s why this moment feels so easy.

”yeah,” you finally say, “guess we do.”

“i gotta go now,” you announce, hoping to put an end to whatever weird tension is building between the two of you.

he doesn't say anything. no goodbyes, no attempts to stop you. so you turn and start walking away, trying to shake off whatever just happened.

but before you can take more than a few steps, his hand shoots out, wrapping around your wrist. you stop, surprised, and turn back to face him. his grip isn’t tight, but it’s firm enough to make you pause.

you meet his gaze, and there's something in his eyes—something intense, something that makes your stomach flip.

“would you like a distraction?” he asks, voice low, almost like a whisper meant just for you.

you blink, not sure if you heard him right. “what?” you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

instead of answering, he tugs you gently closer. your body stumbles forward, and your hands land on his chest to steady yourself. his heartbeat is strong under your palm, and suddenly, everything feels too close, too intense.

he looks down at you, his eyes flickering over your face like he’s searching for something. “i think i do,” he mutters. “don’t you?”

your mind is racing, trying to make sense of this.

is he asking what you think he’s asking?

he’s a stranger. someone you barely know beyond a couple of conversations and an awkward encounter in a convenience store.

yet there’s something about the way he’s looking at you, something that makes it hard to think straight.

“yes,” you hear yourself say before you can even process it.

his lips curve into a satisfied smile, and without another word, he leans in and kisses you.

the world seems to stop as his mouth meets yours. it’s not hesitant or soft; it’s urgent, as if he’s been wanting this for longer than the short time you’ve known him. his hands slide up to your face, cupping your cheeks as he deepens the kiss.

your fingers clutch his shirt, feeling the heat of his body against yours. it’s messy and impulsive, and he doesn't even care that you’re both in the middle of a park, under the dim glow of the streetlights.

right now, all you can think about is him. the way he tastes, the way he kisses you desperately.

maybe you do need this distraction.

his hands grip your waist, pulling you closer, and you instinctively wrap your arms around his neck, letting the kiss deepen. his lips are soft, and you moan as if you're melting into the kiss. there's something about the way his mouth moves against yours; like he's been waiting to do this.

“wait—” you pant as pull back, your heart pounding against your ribs, trying to gather your thoughts. he looks into your eyes, his brows furrowing slightly as he asks in a low voice, “what happened?”

“we're... we're outside,” you point out, glancing around.

he tilts his head, his brows raising slightly as if that’s the least of his concerns. “so?” his voice is low and almost teasing, like he finds your hesitation cute.

you let out a scoffing laugh, “what do you mean so?wee’re literally in a children’s park.” you gesture to the swings and slides nearby, deserted at this hour but still... it’s a public space.

he pauses for a second, “my car’s parked just over there,” he nods towards a sleek vehicle at the edge of the park, his lips curling into a smile. “we could, uh... relocate or—”

before you can even process that, your curiosity gets the better of you. “wait— you have a car?” you cut in, a little surprised.

he chuckles. “yeah, and it’s a pretty one at that.” there’s a glint in his eyes that says he’s enjoying this back-and-forth with you, like it’s some sort of game.

you sigh, still trying to wrap your head around the craziness of this entire situation. “okay,” you murmur, almost to yourself, deciding to just go with it. what’s the worst that could happen?

he releases his grip on you, but only so he can grab your hand and guide you towards the car. the walk feels a little awkward now, a heavy tension hanging in the air. you're not sure what to say.

what’s the protocol for walking towards a car with a guy you’re about to hook up with?

as if sensing your nerves, he gives your hand a gentle squeeze. “come on, my car’s comfy. don’t worry,” he says with a grin, trying to lighten the mood. the way he’s holding your hand... it’s surprisingly tender, making it feel just a little less awkward.

when you reach the car, he opens the back seat door for you. you hesitate for a second, “you won’t, like, kidnap me or something, right?” you half-joke.

he lets out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “for someone who’s so aware of the things you shouldn’t be doing, you sure do them anyway,” he teases. his words send a shiver down your spine, both a warning and an invitation.

but you ignore that nagging voice in the back of your mind. instead, you climb into the seat and he follows you right away.

“why are you—” your words are cut off as he crashes his lips against yours, the urgency in his kiss making you lose your breath. one of his hands grips your waist, pulling you against him, while the other tangles in your hair, tugging gently to tilt your head for better access.

the way his lips move against yours, hot and hungry, sends sparks shooting down your spine, and before you know it, you're moaning into his mouth, matching his intensity. your hands scramble to find something to hold onto, eventually locking behind his neck as if he's your lifeline.

“are we seriously gonna fuck in your car?” you gasp, your words shaky when he pulls away just enough to start trailing hot kisses down the side of your neck. your legs wrap around his waist instinctively, drawing him closer.

“no,” he breathes and sucks on a sensitive spot just beneath your ear, his teeth grazing the skin before he soothes it with a slow lick. “just couldn’t stop myself,” he admits, voice low and breathy, and then his mouth is back on yours, devouring you with a hunger that makes your head spin.

your hands move restlessly over his broad shoulders, wanting to feel more, wishing his clothes were gone so you could touch him everywhere.

his hands roam your body like he's memorizing it, fingers pressing into the curves of your waist, teasingly brushing against your chest. each touch has you arching into him, wishing he'd just tear your clothes apart already.

it's all too good.

too overwhelming, and before you know it, five minutes have passed with the two of you tangled in each other. when he finally pulls back, panting, his lips are swollen and glistening. your chest rises and falls rapidly as you try to catch your breath, both of you staring at each other in the dim light of the car.

he’s leaning back slightly, his hard on pressing against your thigh. it’s impossible not to notice how turned on he is, and it only makes your own arousal spike.

you're so fucking wet right now.

you’re laid back on the seat, eyes locked on him, watching the way he runs a hand through his disheveled hair, pushing it back revealing his forehead.

“hotel? or my place?” he asks, trying to catch his breath “hotel’s just a minute away, but my place… well, it’s a bit further.”

you can practically see the options laid out in your mind like a checklist.

a) go to the hotel, have your fun, and slip away without looking back. no strings, no regrets. just a quick fuck and disappear like it never happened.

b) go to his place, let him fuck the shit out of you, see if he’s worth all this heat between your thighs. maybe wake up in his bed with his arms still wrapped around you... and if he's good enough, maybe get his number so it doesn’t have to be a one time thing.

you bite your lip, your decision already made before you even realize it.

“yours.”

the drive to his apartment is quick, the tension between you both barely held back. you're glad it’s late at night, because the two of you can’t seem to keep your hands off each other and you don't want anyone witnessing it.

the second you step into his apartment, the door slams shut behind you, and it's a scramble to rid each other of clothing. shirts are yanked off, belts undone, pants shoved down until you're both stumbling towards his bedroom in a mess of heated kisses and needy touches.

“o-oh fuck—yes baby, suck it just like that,” jungkook throws his head back, moaning, his breath ragged. he’s sprawled on the bed, legs spread wide, hands gripping the sheets. you're on your knees between his thighs, sucking him hard, your lips stretching around his thick length.

you glance up at him, eyes half lidded, watching the way his abs flex as he tries to keep himself steady. “shit... you look so fucking hot,” he rasps out, voice rough. his gaze darkens, and he pushes himself up, one hand threading through your hair.

“can you take it, baby?” he asks, his voice low, a hint of a challenge in his tone.

you know exactly what he’s asking. you nod, barely managing it with your mouth full, and he smiles, almost wickedly, his eyes gleaming.

“good,” he murmurs, his grip tightening just enough on your hair. “tap me if it’s too much.” and with that, he starts moving his hips, fucking into your mouth with slow, deep thrusts.

you gag slightly as he pushes deeper, but you relax your throat, trying to take him in. the room is filled with the wet, obscene sounds of him moving in and out, his groans echoing off the walls.

“fuck—you’re taking me so well, baby,” he praises, his voice thick and raspy, sending a wave of heat straight to your core. each time his cock hits the back of your throat, it forces a choked gasp from him, his hands instinctively tightening in your hair.

your eyes water, tears pooling at your lashes, but you don’t stop, even as your throat aches. your nails dig into his firm thighs, using them for balance as he fucks your throat. you want to show him just how much you can handle.

“i’m gonna—” he grunts, voice rough and strained. a hot burst of his release fills your mouth, and you swallow it all, not breaking eye contact with him for a second. his chest heaves as he watches you, mesmerized, as your tongue slides slowly along his length, cleaning up every drop. his jaw clenches, the sight clearly driving him wild.

“get up,” he orders, voice still a little breathless, and you obey instantly, letting him pull you to your feet. “on the bed, all fours.”

you get onto the mattress, positioning yourself as he asked. there's a moment of stillness as you feel his gaze roam over your exposed body. your heart races, anticipation building as you wait for his next move.

“you’re dripping,” he murmurs, leaning in closer until his breath is hot against your soaked core. he licks a slow, deliberate stripe along your folds, and your eyes flutter shut, a soft, breathy moan escaping your lips. his mouth envelops your pussy, sucking and licking with an rhythm that makes your thighs tremble.

he pulls back just enough to catch his breath before moving up, positioning himself between your legs. his right hand trails upward, skimming over your skin until his fingers brush against your lips.

instinctively, you part them, taking his fingers into your mouth, sucking and swirling your tongue around them. the low chuckle that escapes him tells you just how much he enjoys it.

“you like that, hm?” he asks. you moan softly around his fingers, your response muffled but desperate.

he withdraws his fingers, his lips curving into a satisfied smirk. leaning down, he wraps an arm around your waist, lifting you slightly until your back is against his chest. you can feel his length pressing against your ass, you move your hips a little causing a little friction.

his hands slide over your breasts, kneading them with just enough pressure to send shivers down your spine.

you melt into his touch, your head lolling back against his shoulder as his fingers pinch and roll your hardened nipples, sending sparks of pleasure through your body.

“want me to fuck you, baby?” his voice is soft against your shoulder as he places feather light kisses along your skin. he nips gently, his hands never stopping their teasing, and you can’t help the whimper that escapes when his fingers pinch just a bit harder.

“y-yes,” you mewl, voice shaky with need, “fuck me, jungkook.”

he squeezes your breasts harder, a groan rumbling from his chest as he sinks his teeth lightly into the curve of your shoulder.

“yeah? can i fuck you raw?” he whispers, his breath hot against your ear.

“yes,” you gasp, your voice barely more than a whimper. “p-please.”

his grip on you loosens slightly, and he leans back to look at you, his eyes dark, like he's stopping himself. “you sure?” he asks, one last time, his tone gentle but urgent.

you nod quickly, breathless. “i’m on the pill,” you assure him, and the tension in his shoulders eases.

“fuck. okay, bend over.”

without hesitation, you resume your previous position, arching your back and presenting yourself to him. he groans softly at the sight, his hand sliding down to rub slow circles over your entrance.

he teases you, slipping a finger inside, making you moan softly as your walls flutter around him. he withdraws his finger, watching the way you clench around nothing, desperate for more.

grabbing his cock, he taps the swollen tip against your slick hole. you whine, impatience leaking into your voice, “just fuck me already.”

a smirk curves his lips, and without another word, he pushes into you.

you grip the sheets tightly as you take him in fully, your walls stretching to accommodate his thick length. a choked gasp escapes your lips, eyes squeezing shut at the delicious burn that quickly morphs into pleasure.

each inch fills you so completely, leaving you breathless, your body trembling at the feeling.

“fuck,” he groans behind you, his voice low and rough, a sound that makes your toes curl. “you’re so tight, baby... taking me so fucking good.” the words are almost a growl, filled with barely restrained control as he fights the urge to pound into you.

his hands move to your hips, gripping them hard enough to leave marks, steadying himself as he sinks even deeper.

your moans spill freely now, raw and needy, muffled slightly by the pillow you bury your face into. he starts to move, slowly at first, pulling out just enough before thrusting back in, his cock brushing against that sweet spot inside you.

the rhythm is torturously slow, each stroke making you whimper, your back arching even further in a silent plea for more.

“please... more,” you manage to gasp out, your voice shaky. “jungkook, i need it.. need you.”

“yeah?” he rasps, picking up the pace, thrusts becoming sharper, each one driving you into the mattress. “want it harder, baby? want me to ruin you?”

“yes.. yes mmph- more!” you cry, your voice breaking as he slams into you harder, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. your nails claw at the sheets, the friction of his hips against your ass making stars dance behind your eyelids.

his fingers snake around to your front, finding your swollen clit, and he rubs it in tight, quick circles. your entire body jolts, your hips bucking back against him as you let out a loud, broken moan.

“oh, fuck, that’s it, that's a good fucking girl,” he hisses, feeling you clench around him, your walls fluttering as you near the edge.

“you’re gonna cum for me, aren’t you?” he growls against your ear, bending over you now, his hot breath fanning against your neck. he bites down on your shoulder, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to drive you wild.

“you're gonna cum like the good girl you are?”

“yes n-ngh.. i’m close.. s-so close,” you whimper, your thighs trembling uncontrollably. his fingers press harder against your clit, his thrusts turning frantic.

“cum with me, baby” he demands, his voice thick and commanding. that’s all it takes. your body shatters. your vision going white as you scream his name. your walls squeeze him so tightly, milking his cock, and with a deep, guttural groan, he loses himself too, spilling inside you as his thrusts grow sloppy.

he stays buried inside you, his chest heaving against your back, both of you panting heavily. he leans down to press soft, lazy kisses along your shoulder.

after everything that just happened. you've made up your mind.

you're definitely going to ask for his number.

a/n: erm.. don't get into random strangers cars !! haha

#jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook x reader #fanfic #bts jungkook #jungkook smut #bts fanfiction #jungkook fic #jeon jungkook fanfic #jjk x y/n #jungkook x y/n #fanfiction

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coffeeshades · 1 day ago

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—true blue ⭑ part ii

summary: two strangers meet in a city of millions, only to discover they've been searching for each other all along.

pairing: pedro pascal x f!reader.

word count: 2.7k

warnings: age gap, angst, fluff, mentions of alcohol, loneliness, nostalgia. no use of y/n, if i missed something please let me know!

a/n: happy reading <3

Several weeks had passed since Pedro’s last letter, and your heart had fallen into a state of quiet, private anguish. At first, you waved it off—surely, he was busy; perhaps work had claimed his attention. It was only reasonable, you told yourself. Your own days were heavy with work; your nights were weighed down by the kinds of dreams that stretch between waking and sleep.

You expected his silence would soon be broken.

But as each day drew to a close without word from him, your soul grew restless, your mind endlessly rehearsing the contents of your last letter. Did you overstep some invisible boundary? Did he, perhaps, see the words on the page and find them lacking?

It was a mad habit, replaying the messages, re-reading them through imagined eyes. Had you given yourself away too soon, foolishly assuming some intimacy that perhaps had never been there?

Resigned, you finally abandoned any hope of hearing from him again.

One bright Saturday in late autumn, you sought solace in Hyde Park. The air was brisk, threading itself with the scent of dying leaves. In one hand, you clutched a warm pumpkin flavored coffee, and in the other, the last book Pedro had given you, its spine softened by countless touches, as though he’d read it a hundred times before sending it on to you. The vibrant red of your cardigan caught the eyes of passersby, a bright, defiant spot against the muted colors of the late autumn landscape.

As you walked, you saw the shapes of couples in the distance, silhouettes tangled together as they strolled or lingered under trees. You were reminded of those precious, everyday moments—of your friend's comforting calls, your patients’ murmured thanks at the end of long days, the warmth of those early letters exchanged with Pedro. Each of these small flashes of light is a reminder that life held joy even amid decay.

Yet even those small joys paled in comparison to what Pedro had come to represent to you. He was more than just a light; he had become the sun, his warmth reaching some part of you long-buried, awakening hope you’d thought lost forever. You clung to that hope, fragile as it was, in your steps.

And then, as if conjured by some unseen will, he appeared.

You saw him, standing near a tree talking on his phone, dressed much the same as the first time you’d met, only this time his glasses were different. Your heart raced, a sudden jolt of fear gripping you. You shouldn’t be scared—you’d been writing to him for weeks. You’d spilled your guts on paper, sharing things with him you hadn’t told anyone else. Talking to him shouldn’t be a big deal.

But it was.

You kept walking, hoping to avoid him, but then you heard it. Your name—deliciously spoken in his voice, rich and deep. You stopped dead in your tracks, heart hammering in your chest.

Your footsteps slowed, your pulse quickening as you turned. There he was, hands tucked into his pockets, his smile just as soft, as if he’d known all along that you’d appear there on that same path.

“I thought that was you,” he said, taking a few steps toward you.

It was all you could do to muster a reply, your voice an unsteady whisper against the gusts of wind. “You’ve only seen me once,” you stammered, “and you remembered me?”

A laugh, gentle and reassuring, rumbled from him as he replied, “You’re hard to forget.”

“Oh.”

It was the only word you could manage, your brain still trying to process the fact that he was here, in front of you.

He glanced down at the book in your hand. “How’s it going?” he asked, nodding towards it.

“I’m halfway through already. It’s fast-paced,” you replied, trying to keep your tone casual, even though your pulse was racing.

“Yeah, it is.” He smiled again. “You going somewhere?”

You glanced around, desperate to avoid his intense gaze. His brown eyes were impossibly warm, pulling you in. “Not really,” you said. “Just walking.”

“Mind if I join you?”

“Not at all.”

From there, conversation flowed, interrupted only by the brisk autumn breeze, as if you hadn’t already shared your deepest thoughts in letters. He asked about your work, and when you told him you worked in healthcare, he teased, “Could you be a little more specific?”

You laughed. “I’m a doctor, actually.”

His eyes widened in surprise. “No way. That’s impressive. Beauty and brains.”

You blushed. Did he just—did he compliment you?

“It’s no big deal. I applied for a residency here a while ago, and now… here I am.”

“Where’d you go to med school?” he asked.

“New York,” you said, smiling softly. “Lived there my whole life.”

“Why not stay there?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “It sounds silly, but I always dreamed of escaping to somewhere new. Somewhere no one knew me.”

“And how’s that going for you?”

You laughed, glancing down at the ground. “Pretty lonely.”

He frowned. “Lonely?”

“Not much different from my life before,” you added quickly, feeling too exposed. You turned the conversation back to him. “What about you?”

“Uh, well, I’m��an actor,” he said with a shrug. “That's why I'm in London, filming a movie. Been here for a few months now.”

You bit your lip, feeling the weight of the moment stretching out between you. You had to say it. It had been gnawing at you since that first encounter—this unspoken truth, hovering between the lines of every letter you’d exchanged.

“I... I know who you are, by the way,” you blurted out, the words rushing out faster than you intended.

Pedro raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth lifting into that familiar, crooked smile. “Oh?”

You nodded, suddenly shy, feeling your face grow warm. “Yeah. I mean, I wasn’t sure at first. You look different, a little. But then when you signed the first letter with your name, I was like, ‘Oh yeah, it’s him.’ And then I didn’t want to ruin it or make things weird, so I didn’t say anything, but maybe I should’ve? I don’t know, I—”

You rambled on, your voice a frantic mess as the words stumbled over themselves. Pedro watched you, his eyes crinkling in amusement, letting you spiral out without interrupting. His quiet, steady presence only made you more flustered, the way he seemed so completely at ease, while you felt like you were falling over your own sentences like an idiot.

“Hey,” he said gently, cutting into your monologue. “Slow down. It’s okay.”

“Is it?” You sighed, feeling the ridiculousness of your own nervous energy. “I just don’t want you to think I’m only talking to you because of… you know. Who you are.”

He seemed unsurprised, a knowing look in his eyes.

“I wouldn’t have kept this up if I thought it was just about… well, who I am,” he said, his tone softening. “Honestly, I was grateful for a reason to just… be myself.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, relieved. “Thank you. It’s just… I didn’t want to make it weird.”

“It’s not weird,” Pedro said, smiling again, but softer this time. “Actually, thank you for coming clean about it. If it makes you feel better, I knew you knew. I could tell.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Yeah, I’m not exactly subtle, am I?”

“No, but I like that about you,” he said, eyes glinting with warmth. “You’re refreshingly honest, even when you’re rambling.”

Your nerves melted just a little at his words, and everything felt easy again, just like in the letters.

The walk turned into an invitation to lunch, and soon enough, you found yourselves tucked into a cozy corner table at a little restaurant nearby. The place was warm, with soft lighting and wooden beams overhead, the air carrying the scent of fresh bread and something savory cooking in the back. It was intimate, inviting.

Pedro picked up the menu, scanning it briefly before glancing at you with a playful grin. “So, what’s your go-to order? Something pumpkin-flavored, I’m guessing?”

You rolled your eyes with a smile. “Ha ha. Only the coffee. But sure, I’ll embrace the autumn stereotype.”

“Nothing wrong with that. I had a pumpkin spice latte the other day—didn’t hate it.”

You raised an eyebrow, smirking. “I knew you were the type. All that rugged, cool guy persona? A front for your love of seasonal beverages.”

He chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “What can I say? I contain multitudes.”

Lunch came, and so did the conversation between bites of food and sips of wine.

At one point, Pedro started telling a story about his first audition, a disaster that involved a broken chair and spilled coffee, and you nearly choked on your drink from laughing so hard.

“And then,” he said, shaking his head, “the casting director just looked at me, deadpan, and said, ‘Well, that was memorable.’”

“Oh my god,” you gasped, wiping your eyes. “I would have died.”

“I nearly did,” he said, grinning. “But hey, I got the part. Pity, probably.”

“Or charm,” you said, raising your glass. “Here’s to charming your way through life.”

He clinked his glass with yours, the sound soft, like the connection between you.

A nameless, delicate thing.

Laughter faded, and the conversation settled into a more vulnerable rhythm. The weight of what you had said in your letters hung between you, an acknowledgment that this was more than just books and thoughts shared on paper. It had become a bridge—fragile, intimate, but undeniably real.

“I know what that’s like,” you said, breaking the silence, your voice softer now. You swirled the last of your wine in the glass, staring at it like the answer might rise up in the reflection. “To try to mold yourself to fit into someone’s life. To make yourself pliable, digestible... because you love them. Because you want them to love you back. But I realized… that’s useless. You can change everything about yourself and still not be enough. So why betray yourself?”

Pedro’s, warm and deep eyes seemed to catch the weight of your words and hold them for a moment before he spoke. “That’s... yeah, I get that. More than I care to admit.”

You bit your lip, immediately feeling exposed. “I’m sorry,” you added quickly, waving your hand in a dismissive gesture. “I didn’t mean to get all existential on you.”

He shook his head, his expression soft. “No, don’t apologize. It’s real. Honestly, it’s refreshing to talk about this stuff. It feels like people avoid these conversations, you know? Too much noise, not enough... depth.”

You nodded.

“And please don’t think I’m, like, dreadfully sad,” you added with a small, self-deprecating laugh. “I mean, yes, I am, but at the back of it, I promise there’s faith. There’s hope. And love. Lots of love.”

Pedro’s smile widened, just enough to deepen the creases at the corners of his eyes. "Same. I could tell from your letters."

"I don't know, I've always wanted this thing that's not quite love but something more."

“What is that?” he asked quietly, his voice dipping in a way that made the question feel more intimate, as if he already knew part of the answer.

You hesitated; the answer slipped out anyway. “To be understood.”

He didn’t speak right away, just took a slow sip of his drink, his eyes never leaving yours. His face was a map of tiny details you had already memorized in your letters—his dark hair streaked with silver, the subtle patches of white in his beard, more prominent under the soft light of the restaurant. His eyes crinkled at the corners, even when he wasn’t smiling, like someone who’d spent a lifetime both laughing and crying deeply. He carried it all with him—his history written in the lines on his face, in the way his hands moved slowly, thoughtfully.

“You know,” he began, setting his glass down, his voice low but steady, “there’s something from one of your letters that’s been stuck with me. When you wrote: ‘All I’ve ever known of love is how to live without it. I just can’t seem to find it.”

Your breath caught in your chest. You remembered writing those words late one night, fingers trembling as your pen hit the paper, thinking it might be too much to share. But now, hearing it come back to you in his voice, you realized it had struck him, too. Maybe he had been holding onto it, turning it over in his mind, just as you had.

“That…” he trailed off, shaking his head, his gaze falling to the table for a moment as if searching for the right words. “That hit me. I’ve been thinking about it ever since.”

You swallowed.

Pedro’s eyes met yours again, and this time, there was a quiet intensity behind them. “I do feel like that too,” he said simply. “I’ve felt that way for a long time.”

There was a pause. Not the awkward kind, but the heavy kind—the kind where things shift, where you realize the other person is carrying the same scars you’ve spent a lifetime hiding.

“I’ve always been good at feeling things deeply,” he continued, his voice growing quieter, more reflective. “Too deeply, maybe. And with love… it’s like this paradox, you know? You want to be loved for who you are, but you end up bending yourself into knots, just trying to be enough for someone else. And when it doesn’t work, you wonder what you did wrong. Why you weren’t enough.”

He exhaled, rubbing a hand through his dark hair, the streaks of white catching in the light. “I’ve been in relationships where I thought, ‘This is it, this is love,’ but it wasn’t. I was just... fitting myself into someone else’s idea of love. And I don’t think I’ve ever let someone really see me. Not like this.”

You sat in silence for a moment, his words hanging in the air between you. There was something profoundly human about his confession. He wasn’t just a famous face or a larger-than-life presence. He was a person, flawed and searching, just like you.

“I think that’s what scares me,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “That maybe I’ve never been seen either. Not really.”

Pedro looked at you then, and there was something in his eyes that made your heart thud harder in your chest—a softness, a recognition, like he understood you in ways you hadn’t even begun to understand yourself.

“I see you,” he said quietly, his voice steady, no trace of hesitation.

You blinked, feeling your throat tighten, not trusting yourself to speak. For a moment, neither of you said anything. The world outside the restaurant—Hyde Park with its autumn chill, the bustling streets of London—faded away. It was just the two of you sitting at that small table, the space between you shrinking.

Pedro leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, his fingers brushing the rim of his glass absentmindedly. “And what if,” he said, his voice low, “what if love isn’t something you have to find? What if it’s already here? In these moments, in the quiet spaces between words?”

Your heart fluttered, the weight of his gaze anchoring you to the moment. He wasn’t just talking about love as an abstract concept. He was talking about this—the connection between you, the letters, the words that had brought you both to this place.

And suddenly, you realized that you weren’t just yearning for love. You were already in it, knee-deep, feeling everything so deeply you hadn’t even noticed.

You smiled, a soft, tentative thing. “Maybe we’re both learning what love looks like.”

Pedro’s lips curved into a small smile, and for the first time in a long while, you felt like you weren’t alone in your search.

You were here, in the mess of it. And that was enough.

a/n: don't forget to like, reblog or comment! and remember my ask is always open, would love to hear your thoughts!

next part should be up soon!!

#pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal rpf #my writing

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zigrethsnotebook · 1 day ago

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3 times Stan fake-proposed to you and 1 time he didn’t

Stan x Reader

words: 4,123

tags: sfw, toothrotting fluff

a/n: was allowed to borrow the idea from @stanpineskisser <3

1. Stan and you had been dating for a couple of months now. The town was slowly warming up to the idea of Mister Mystery dating someone so... 'out of his league' as you'd once heard it. You knew they just thought you were a gold-digger but you also did not care. You loved Stan. And even though he had a hard time saying it out loud, you knew he loved you, too.

Stan didn’t need to tell you how he felt, because he showed you through little gestures and gifts he'd get you. (But to call you a gold-digger because of that? He stole most of the stuff anyway!) Like today, when you two went on a date to Greasy's Diner.

It wasn't supposed to be anything fancy, just a normal dinner date with Stan. But as things so often are with this man, it ended up being anything but normal.

When you two entered the Diner one thing immediately caught your eye. A new little machine stood next to the coat rack at the door. It was one of those things where you'd put a coin in, turn the handle a couple of times and a little plastic ball filled with some cheap toy would fall out. You loved these when you were a kid! The toys were always terrible but something about it always made you get something whenever you saw one of these.

Your excitement and nostalgia got the better of you. So while Stan put both of your coats away, you went and got yourself something from the machine. Grinning from ear to ear you followed Stan to an empty booth. You waited until after you had ordered your drinks to open the plastic ball.

"Where'd you get that?" Stan asked as you struggled to tear the two halves apart. "The machine at the door." You didn't even look up to answer him, you knew he wouldn't like it, call it a waste of money. He'd be right, of course, but you didn’t need to hear it.

While Stan was looking for the machine you finally managed to pull the ball apart, sending the contents flying across the table, one of the things rolling off of it. You quickly gathered them all in one spot in front of you while Stan stood up. "I gotcha."

When he spotted the little dark blue plastic ring in front of the table, he bent down on one knee, picked it up and presented it to you. You were about to take it from him when Lazy Susan appeared behind him, holding your drinks. She gasped before saying: "Oh my, Mr. Pines! Are you proposing already?" Stan looked at her quizzically for a second when you saw an opening for a free meal.

"Oh my god, Stan! I never would have thought! This is so sudden...!" You put on a real show and Stan was quick to follow your lead. "What can I say? These past few months have been the best of my life and I never want them to end! Please... marry me?"

The words were right but both of you spoke them like you were the leads in a cheap soap-opera. It didn’t matter though. Everyone cheered when you said 'yes' and fell into his arms. Stan pushed the ring onto your finger and you kissed him as dramatically as you could.

Once you two had settled back into your seats, now holding hands and making heart-eyes at each other, Lazy Susan put your drinks on your table. "Well, I think it goes without saying that you two are getting the special today. On the house! Aren't you just adorable!" You both thanked her and grinned at each other as she turned around.

After dinner, on your way back to the shack, Stan couldn't help but laugh. "Nice stunt you pulled there. Quick thinking - I like that." You smirked at him. "I learned from the best."

He shifted in his seat a little, the words he was about to say making him slightly nervous. "You do realize we'll have to pretend to be engaged now, right?" You chuckled before answering sarcastically. "Oh no, what a nightmare!"

Stan joined you with a chuckle of his own. However, he couldn't shake the warm, fuzzy feeling that was blooming in his chest at the thought of being engaged to you.

2. About two weeks later Stan asked you out to dinner again. "And put on something nice. We're going to a fancy restaurant today. Because I'm planning to propose to you!" You were about to question him when he showed you a little blue box. When he opened it you recognised the little blue plastic ring from the Diner and smiled a crooked smile.

"And here I was, thinking you were going to propose to me for real," you sighed dramatically, "but I suppose a scam for a free dinner will do." You smirked at Stan as he put the box into his jacket. "I'll be back in five." You kissed his cheek and turned on your heels to put on some nicer clothes.

As you walked away you had to calm your racing heart with a few steadying breaths. What happened at Greasy's was dumb luck, but the fact that Stan wanted to pull the same scam again, on purpose this time, left you feeling giddy.

You lived for the excitement Stan brought into your life. Scamming, shoplifting, pug smuggling or robbing his rival of a clown painting - Nothing beat the adrenalin rush of doing something illegal, running away hand in hand and then sinking into each other, laughing hysterically.

This scam in particular though? It felt a little different. You knew that this would only work if the people at the restaurant believed that you two were so in love that you'd want to marry each other. Not that it was very difficult for you. You two had been dating a good while and you really loved him. But the topic of marriage had never even crossed your mind before.

Then again, this was only a scam. He wasn't actually proposing to you. After all, you had roped him into this at Greasy's and now he was just taking advantage of a good situation.

Still, as you looked in the mirror, all dressed up in your fanciest dark red suit, you decided that you'd put on an even better show than last time.

When you met Stan again in the living room he eyed you up and down before stepping towards you and grabbing your waist, pulling you closer to him. His voice was low. "You look gorgeous, doll."

Your hands found his chest and traced his skin in the part of his shirt he'd left unbuttoned. "You clean up nice yourself, handsome." You all but purred at him. Stan chuckled, a smirk on his face. "Don't tempt me, sweetcheeks. Let's get dinner first."

You both chuckled and pulled apart so Stan could lead you to the front door. He kept one of your hands in his up until he opened the car door for you, allowing you to climb inside, before he shut the door. He walked over to the driver's side and you two drove off.

Stan had picked a restaurant a good 40 minute drive from the shack so by the time you arrived you were starting to get really hungry. Stan had put in a reservation beforehand which meant you were quickly seated and presented with a nice red wine Stan had ordered for the both of you.

He promised you he'd only drink one glass and then switch to soda and you believed him. Stan had assured you time and time again that nothing was more important to him than your safety.

You held his hands on top of the table and you both stared into each other's eyes, really going all out on the lovey-dovey stuff. Normally, Stan would roll his eyes and groan at people who behaved like this, but when he could use it to scam someone? He was not holding back.

He softly spoke sweet nothings over the table, quiet enough to be believable, loud enough to make sure the staff heard him. He peppered your hands in soft kisses and smiled at you like you were the light of his life.

Hell, if you didn’t plan for this to be a scam then you would have believed him. You couldn't help the way a gentle blush crept onto your cheeks at the sight of Stan picking up your hand and placing a soft kiss to your knuckles without breaking eye contact with you.

Just as Stan saw the waiter approaching again out of the corner of his eyes, he put on the real show. He stood up, his chair screeching backwards slightly and declared: "I can't wait any longer." Stan pulled the blue box from one of his pockets and got down on one knee in front of you as he addressed you by name.

"You are by far the best thing that's ever happened to me. Your smile is what lets me get up in the morning and I would be honored if you would allow me to see your smile every day for the rest of our lifes. Please. Will you marry me?"

You watched him, real shock and surprise making its way to your face with every word he spoke. You had to manually remind yourself that this was just a scam and Not a real proposal. Without your permission your voice went shaky as you breathed out a "Yes, of course!" and went in for a kiss.

You sighed into the kiss, letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Why was this having such a strong effect on you? You knew this was coming, you should have been prepared for this!

It didn’t matter because you didn’t have much time to dwell on it. When you parted the kiss you tuned back into the real world and heard the other customers applauding. The waiter had now reached the both of you and declared that for true love like yours your meal would be on the house. The customers applauded again as you both settled back into your seats.

You admired the dark blue ring Stan had slipped onto your finger and Stan quickly covered it with his own hand when the waiter brought out your plates, knowing full well that with one closer look every idiot would see that the ring is just plastic.

The rest of the dinner went smoothly. Two couples congratulated you both on their way out and you thanked them accordingly.

After you were done and back on the road Stan was first to speak up. "You were real convincing today. Almost made me think you thought it was a real proposal." He kept his eyes on the road but the smirk on his lips was still very clear.

You chuckled. "Yeah, right. To be fair, you weren't half bad yourself. 'Your smile is what lets me get up in the morning'? Now that's some true romantic stuff. Did you learn that from The Duchess Approves?" You tried to play it cool by teasing him. It seemed to do the trick.

"Hey! I can be romantic!" You chuckled fondly. "Yes, I know, love." Stan's expression softened at the nickname. He wanted to tell you just how much he loved you, too, but he just couldn't get the words out so instead, he just put his right arm over the backrest of your seat and pulled you towards him slightly as he continued to drive home.

You leaned into his touch and held up your left hand to look at the ring again. "Hm... How about I give this back to you, in case we want to do this again sometime?" You smiled as you pulled the ring off your finger and dropped it into the chest pocket of Stan's shirt.

3. It was late spring as you and Stan decided to go to a fair, one town over. You two walked along the many different attractions together, your arm lazily around his torso, his hand gently resting on your hip. Your pace was very slow, because at every other stall he squeezed your hip lightly to pull you closer and whispered in your ear how exactly they were scamming the customers. Every time he'd get a chuckle or a gentle swat to his chest from you.

As you two were passing by a Tin Can Alley, you spotted a gorgeous bear plushie that was just one fez short of looking like Stan. Just as you were about to ask him to play a round with him he pulled you closer again. "Ah, the Tin Can Alley. Did you know that they put a bit of double sided tape under the cans so they're harder to knock over?"

You swatted him lightly again and he chuckled. "No! Stan! Don't tell me that! I wanted to play a round with you. That bear looks so much like you, I wanted to win one." He looked a little puzzled at you, then at the bear, and back at you again. "I don't see it."

Even though he hated hearing you say it, he was plain adorable at times. A fond smile graced your lips even though you sighed in disappointment. "It's okay, let's go." You went to take a step forward but Stan stopped you. "Nah, let's play anyway." "But-" He cut you off and stepped towards the stall. "Come on! My treat." Stan flashed his teeth and winked at you. Was he planning something?

You were the only people at the stall so the man in charge of it noticed you two immediately. Stan squinted at him. "What do we need to do to get that bear?" He pointed at the plushie dangling above your heads.

The man smiled at him. "Good choice, sir. For that one you should only need three balls." He placed three balls on the counter between the men. "There is a catch though. You see these stacks?" He pointed at the three pyramids of stacked cans behind him. "You'll need to clear all three of them completely. Care to try? It's only three dollars."

Stan pulled three dollars out of his pocket and placed them on the counter, then gently nudged you closer to it. "Give it your best shot, doll." You smiled at Stan and took the first ball as the man behind the counter put the money away.

You positioned yourself in front of the first stack, took a deep breath and threw the ball. It hit the second of three rows, knocking four out of six cans to the ground. "Hoho! Good one! But not quite good enough for the bear I'm afraid." You frowned, disappointment filling your chest again.

"Yeah, not an option, pal. How about you just keep 'em coming, huh?" The man smiled at Stan again, although this time it looked a little more like a smirk. "Gladly, sir! Every extra ball is an extra dollar." As he said this he put one extra ball on the counter. Stan grumbled quietly and pulled another dollar out of his pocket while the man restacked the cans.

When the man was done and took the dollar, Stan looked at you, encouraging you to try again. This time you actually managed to clear the first stack. You threw your arms up in triumph and Stan huffed but the look in his eyes was of pure adoration. The second stack was less easy though, you only knocked off three cans this time. You needed an extra ball.

This went on until Stan had spent exactly eleven dollars. You had counted along. After that, when you hadn't cleared the cans again and looked at Stan expectantly, he put on his saddest face and pulled his pockets inside out, proving that he had 'no money left' and you couldn't continue.

Stan sighed sadly, shook his head and turned to you again. "I'm so sorry... I wanted to make this the best day ever but..." He looked wistfully up at the plushie and then back to you. "I suppose it doesn't matter that much." Stan rummaged through the inside of his jacket and pulled out the tiny box you'd come to recognize. You let your eyes widen in fake surprise.

He bent down on one knee, opened the box and presented it to you. You gasped as you saw the ring again. "Will you marry me?" You looked between Stan and the ring a couple times, pretending to be shocked at this scenario, before you nodded vigorously and stepped forward, hugging your boyfriend and repeating the word 'yes' a couple of times.

Some passersby 'aw'-ed and applauded as you pulled back slightly to press a loving kiss to Stan's lips. You'd never get tired of this. As Stan pushed you back just enough to slip the ring onto your finger, you could hear the man at the stall quietly sigh in annoyance. You went in for another kiss to Stan's lips, really selling the proposal.

When you broke the kiss again, you two were presented with the bear plushie, sitting for you on the counter. "If this is what it will take to make this the best day ever for two lovers, who am I to stand in your way?" The man said as he slid the bear over to you.

You gladly took it, hugging it tightly and throwing a couple 'Thank you!'-s at the man while Stan grabbed him by the shoulder and told him: "Thanks, man. I knew you were a true romantic at heart."

With that, you two left the fair. You had everything you needed. Back in the car, you slipped the ring off your finger and handed it back to Stan before nuzzling your face into your new favorite plushie, which you lovingly and creatively named Stan two or Stan the second.

You didn’t see it, but Stan's expression softened as you did that. He adored you so much. The way you were able to pull off these scams with him so effortlessly. The way your genuine joy for life made him actually want to spend money on silly things like this. You had changed his life for the better and didn’t even know it.

In that very moment Stan started planning exactly how and where the next time he'd propose to you would happen.

1. You and Stan sat in Greasy's Diner, sipping on some soda. Stan had asked you out to dinner and you had assumed he was planning to fake-propose to you again, but as he pulled up to the Diner you realized that that wasn't the plan. He couldn't pull the same thing here again, they thought you were already engaged!

Even so, Stan had put on one of his nicer outfits. A red shirt with the top few buttons unbuttoned to show off his gold-chain and a decent amount of chest hair. His tan jacket was thrown over the backrest as you sat down at a booth. You had also worn something nice, not too fancy, but nice enough for the kind of restaurant you thought he'd take you to.

Stan clearly enjoyed your outfit, it showed off all the right curves while not giving too much away... he couldn't keep his eyes off of you. It made you chuckle as Lazy Susan stood in front of your table and Stan seemingly hadn't even noticed her. "Hey! Earth to Stan!" You called out to him and he snapped out of it. "What would you like to eat?" You grinned at him as he ordered.

When Lazy Susan walked back to the kitchen you spoke up again with a chuckle. "I know I look good in this, but you're overdoing it a little." Stan just rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Haha... yeah. Sorry." You furrowed your brows at him. You had expected him to have some witty, suggestive comeback but instead he apologized? Something was off.

You watched him fidget with his hands in front of him, his eyes darting around the room and the table, anywhere but your eyes really. It was starting to worry you. "Stan? Are you alright?" Concern laced your voice and made Stan finally face you. His cheeks immediately went bright red.

"Th-There's nothing for you to worry about, doll, I promise." Your eyebrows stayed knitted together as you nodded slowly. He was clearly lying and also very nervous about it, but you knew better than to push him. He'd tell you eventually. He always does.

After a few minutes in silence, with Stan going back to fidgeting and not looking at you, Lazy Susan brought you both your meals. You thanked her and dug in. Meanwhile Stan quietly sighed in disappointment before starting to eat as well.

You were about halfway through your meal when Stan got up. You didn’t pay much attention to it and just assumed he had to use the restrooms. When you looked up and saw his plate though, you halted. The fork in your hand landed back on your plate as you wondered why Stan had barely eaten anything.

Someone cleared their throat beside you and when you turned to look it was Stan in front of you on one knee, holding a tiny red box. You quickly swallowed the food that was still in your mouth as Stan addressed you with your full legal name. He was blushing a deep red and you could feel your cheeks trying to match his.

"I know I've said this before but I want you to know that I truly mean it this time." He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "These past few months with you have been the best of my life and I would spend all the money in the world to keep your smile in my life forever."

Your eyes welled up with tears as you realized what was happening. "I have become a better man and I blame you for that entirely." A wet chuckle escaped your lips. "I guess what I really want to say is..." Stan took another deep breath, then looked into your eyes. "I love you."

A few tears were flowing freely now as Stan opened the box in his hands to present you the most gorgeous silver ring you had ever seen. It held a little red gemstone between silver swirls that reflected the light from the Diner like a sunset over the ocean. "Will you marry me?"

You lept out of your seat into Stan's arms, knocking him backwards onto the floor. "Yes! Yes! A million times yes!" Stan could feel your tears staining his shirt but he couldn't care less. A massive weight lifted off his shoulders knowing that he could now call you his fiancé without having to lie about it.

With some difficulty he managed to sit you both back up so he could take your hand and place the real ring onto your finger. Admiring the sight he pressed a kiss to it, as if sealing it there.

You pressed your forehead to Stan's, holding the hand with the ring between you. "I love you, Stan." He sighed, finally content. "I love you, too."

After a few moments on the floor like that, Lazy Susan came up next to you. "Didn’t you propose two months ago?" Stan let out a gruff laugh, the one that always made you smile. "No, I didn’t. Just faked it to get a free meal." He beamed at her but Lazy Susan frowned.

She turned around and while Stan helped you up and into your seat again she came back with a broom in her hands. She smacked him with it from behind. Once, twice. Stan stammered out some halfhearted apologies as she kicked him out of the Diner.

You laughed all the way and when she came back to your table you apologized sincerely, asked her nicely to pack both of your meals up to go and told her that you'd pay for both these meals, and the ones you had two months ago.

She agreed happily, and when you stepped outside with your food, you found Stan next to his car, rubbing his ass. You laughed and told him that you'd finish your dinner at home, just the two of you.

That seemed to lift Stan's spirits again. He almost sprinted around the car to open the door for you and when you both got home you celebrated your real engagement appropriately.

#wow this got out of hand #this was supposed to be way shorter... oh well #hope you enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it #gravity falls #gravity falls x reader #zigreth writes #stanley pines #stan pines x reader #stanley pines x reader

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mental69er · 2 days ago

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Post Kill Yandere Victoria Neuman

setting: you set the president elect off the rails and now you're in for it

content: yandere victoria, mentions of head popping, blood, jealous and possessive victoria, fem reader who is very into feral victoria, mutually assured destruction i guess, slight choking, quips about politics, morally gray reader

"Look what you made me do, baby," Victoria crooned darkly, shoving back the wet mass of her soaked hair to keep it out of her eyes. It remained slicked back, weighed down by the blood that stained it and dribbled down her face. Crimson soaked the front of her clothes, forever ruining the white shirt, and the baby blue suit that you loved so much.

But you did always find red to be a complimentary color on Victoria.

She turned to face you, breathing slightly heavy, white fading from her vision. There was a feral look in her eyes- the adrenaline of a satisfying kill.

The alleyway was dark and otherwise deserted, the contents of a man's head exploded across the brick walls, body slumped by the trash bags.

The noise from the bar seemed dull, the heavy metal door you had left through unable to be opened from this side. Victoria had seen to shoving a dumpster in the way so she couldn't be interupted from this.

You said nothing, heart pounding in your chest, little clouds fogging the air in front of you. You hadn't brought your jacket with you, and the wind cut through the skimpy gold top you wore, sending goosebumps rippling up your near naked thighs, only adorned with a mini skirt.

Victoria approached you, tsking. "Is this what you wanted?" she asked. The smell of rust rose off of her, the blood cooling down and drying on her skin. "Are you happy now?" she paused in front of you, that familar anger swirling under her skin. "Happy that you ran off to some skeazy joint, picked up a sleazebag to make out with, and made me kill him?"

You said nothing, knees almost knocking together.

Victoria's lips bared back in a snarl and she reached for your throat, applying just enough pressure to tighten it. To make it feel a bit harder to breathe. You knew she could snap your neck with ease.

She wouldn't.

"Answer me," she said, biting her words.

"You didn't have to hurt him," you managed to choke out and her grip tightened more. You lifted up on your tip toes to alleviate some of the pressure.

"His hands were all over you, and so was his disgusting mouth," she growled out.

"You were busy," you shot back.

"I was at work."

"You couldn't answer my texts?"

"It's very hectic right now with the campaign. One that you're making me risk if it gets out that I killed someone."

"You didn't have to do it," you repeated.

"You're mine," she said, pushing you back into the wall. The harsh brick scratched at your exposed skin. "I don't care how busy I am, I want you to remember that."

"All talk and no action, typical politician type," you sneered at her, refusing to show her how nervous you were.

Her face hardened in anger before she attacked your mouth. The kiss was rough, with a clank of teeth that sent a jolt of pain through you. Your cry of pain was muffled, the taste of blood heavy on your tongue.

Victoria did not let up the kiss, devouring your mouth, sucking your tongue into hers, nipping at your bottom lip til it turned red. You tried to catch your breath when she pulled away, glaring at you.

"When will you learn, you can't keep goading me like this," she hissed at you, though it didn't look like she had quite minded.

"You smiled as he died," you shot back at her. "I know it was good stress relief." Your hands laid over the one on your throat holding you down. "I can be good stress relief too, Vicky."

She pushed right into you for another bruising kiss, this time her hand going too tight on your throat. Air supply was starting to be cut off, white sparking in front of your eyes.

As it was about to become too much she let go, allowing you to suck in lungfuls of air. She took the time to unbutton your shorts, and to slip a hand up your shirt.

Her hand thumbed at your breast, flicking your pert nipple. You let out a groan at the sensation, that only doubled when her other hand dove under your underwear to find the spot between your thighs that dripped for her.

"This wet for me? In an alleyway with a dead body in it?" she poised and you let your arms wrap around her neck, drawing her closer.

"As if you're not soaking wet from what you did," you countered. "At least I only get this wet from you." You faked pouted. "You let yourself get wet from him."

She roughly pushed into your entrance at that, stretching you out with three fingers.

"I only care for you," she said, tone offended. "You're the only one I would burn this world down for. You have no idea how often you run through my head. I can't stop thinking about you, even when I should be thinking of work. Yet there you are, infecting my thoughts everyday." The hand under your shirt pinched your nipple roughly, puncutating her point.

You gasped out at her words and the press of her fingers deep inside you. She moved hard and fast, leaving your head spinning as your chest heaved for air.

"The things I think of doing to you," she chuckled darkly, "no woman should think of."

"Oh fuck," you moaned, body flushing with intense heat as more wetness slipped down your thighs, at the idea of what depraved thoughts were running in her head about you.

Your hips canted up into her palm, sinking in deep on her fingers.

"You drive me crazy, you drive me to kill," she confessed, voice growing breathier as she watched you unfold under her. She swallowed thickly. "Sometimes it feels like I'm the headless one."

"Vicky, fuck!" you exclaimed, not bothering to be quiet. There was no one around to hear you. Your nails sunk into her skin, wanting to mark and brand her.

Her tough demeanor from before was melting as she watched you on the verge of an orgasm, fucking yourself so well against her, slinging up one leg to hoist over her hip.

"Like that, baby, just like that," she purred, knocking her forehead into yours, the blood sticking to your skin. Your eyes fluttered shut and then you came, stilling your body as you filled Victoria's palm with sticky heat.

She pressed kisses up and down the side of your face, quietly praising you for doing such a good job.

You slumped into her, wincing lightly at the sting of your skin. You were probably rubbed raw. A reminder for next time, to be better prepared for a fucking in the alleyway. She pulled her fingers out of you and sucked the liquid off of them, moaning at their taste.

The feral energy was still in her eyes, but it had softened into something else with your release. You knew it was time to leave this place, and take her back to bed where you could help her work out all her frustrations by letting her fuck you until morning came.

"You're a little shit, you know that," she said, catching her breath. "Don't think I don't know what you're up to."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," you shrugged innocently, batting your long lashes at her.

"You love riling me up. Do you have a thing for me popping heads?" she asked and you giggled lightly before tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.

"Let's just say I did my research beforehand and this guy really deserved his head getting popped off. The courts wouldn't punish him for what he did, but you could. And if I could get a two for one with you killing him and fucking me, well," you shrugged again. "Worth it."

"You're worse than a career politician." Victoria buried a smile and chuckle into your shoulder.

#the boys #gen v #the boys amazon #victoria neuman x reader #victoria neuman #victoria neuman x fem reader #victoria neuman x you

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izzymissi · 2 days ago

Text

Professor Alcina x Professor Reader (fem) X Mother Miranda

(Draft, I'm open to ideas or suggestions)

On the first day at Mother Miranda’s All-Girls College, you felt as if you'd stepped into another world. The ancient hallways were dimly lit, lined with paintings that seemed to watch your every move. This place held centuries of secrets, and it felt both thrilling and intimidating. Especially with Dean Miranda watching over everything like a hawk, leaving no room for mistakes.

Then there was Professor Alcina Dimitrescu, your new mentor, who did not seem thrilled to meet you. Standing almost impossibly tall, Alcina was both graceful and imposing, her piercing gaze making your heart race whenever she looked your way. You’d heard the students whisper about her sharp wit, but nothing prepared you for the coldness with which she greeted you.

When Dean Miranda had introduced you as the new art teacher, an apprentice to Professor Dimitrescu, Alcina’s eyes had narrowed, her lips pressing into a line. Still, she had given a small, tight nod and turned to you, her tone icy. “Come, apprentice. I’ll show you how things are done here.”

Her voice had made you shiver, equal parts fear and... something else.

The next few days became a blur of long, intense lectures in her dimly lit office, which felt more like an old gothic library. Alcina never missed an opportunity to critique your technique or roll her eyes when you hesitated. She had a way of leaning over your shoulder, her voice a seductive murmur as she corrected your brushstrokes, her perfume wrapping around you in a heady cloud.

“Such a delicate hand, but so inexperienced,” she would say, her voice laced with a wicked amusement that made you blush furiously.

It was impossible not to stammer in her presence. Alcina seemed to delight in your flustered reactions, arching a perfect brow whenever you stumbled over words. And the worst part was the way she’d brush her fingers across your hand to ‘correct your posture,’ or let her hand linger on your back as she ‘guided’ you through the halls, her touches casual but somehow making your heart pound every time.

One afternoon, as she led you to the art room to prepare materials, you couldn’t take it anymore. “Professor Dimitrescu,” you blurted, hating how nervous you sounded. “I… I want to do well, really, but… you seem so—” You struggled for the word, flushing.

“Intimidating?” she finished for you, her voice a low purr. Her red lips curved in a smirk, and she leaned closer, her face mere inches from yours.

You nodded, swallowing hard. “A little, yes.”

“Good,” she whispered, eyes gleaming. “It’s important that you learn the right way.” She paused, then tilted her head thoughtfully. “Dean Miranda asked me to… groom you, you know. Teach you the subtleties of art… and of discipline.”

The way she said “groom” made your breath hitch, and your face burned.

She straightened and gestured toward the easel. “Show me your brushwork, then,” she instructed, her tone softer but still holding that edge of command.

You tried to focus, to let your brush glide over the canvas as you’d been taught, but Alcina’s presence behind you was intoxicating. After a moment, she made a frustrated sound, and before you knew it, her hand was over yours, guiding the brush with a firm grip.

“Relax, dear,” she murmured close to your ear, her breath warm on your skin. “How are you supposed to capture beauty if you’re so… tense?”

“Professor, I—” You stumbled over your words, her touch sending a jolt through you.

“Alcina,” she corrected softly, surprising you. “If we’re to spend so much time together, I think you’ve earned the privilege.”

“Alcina,” you managed, feeling dizzy.

“Very good.” She stepped back, studying you, her expression unreadable. “Tomorrow, we’ll work on something more advanced. Perhaps sculpture…” A mischievous glint sparked in her eyes. “I’ve heard apprentices can get quite… hands-on with that.”

You knew you were blushing furiously, and she seemed to enjoy every second of it.

#lesbian #residentevilvillage #resident evil village #ladydimitrescu #alcinadimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #alcinaxreader #mother miranda #resident lover

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icywaddle · 3 days ago

Text

Mizu5 if a building fucking fell on my girl and everything turned out okay in the end

NOT CRACK

Ignore how late this is, you guys know I’m a slow ass writer

Mizuki scrambled away.

They couldn’t breathe

They didn’t want to inhale, feel the rise and fall of their

chest.

They didn’t want to hear Ena’s screaming voice behind them.

Their feet stalled as they crossed the threshold of the school’s entrance, guilt and fear tearing at their ribs as they heaved for breath.

Shit

Why?

Why did he have to go and tell Ena??

Mizuki clamped their eyes shut

Tangled their fingers in

their hair

It was the one thing they were going to do

on their own

They were finally going to stop being a coward

And it had all been

ruined

..?

Behind them.

A soft cracking sound.

Silence for a few seconds. They felt frozen. Ena’s footsteps grew closer, pounding the ground at a feverish pace.

There, again.

Louder.

They barely had time to open their eyes and watch Ena’s begin to widen in unrestrained terror before her scream reached their ears.

“Mizuki, watch-!”

Ena’s words were cut off as a loud crashing sound surrounded Mizuki. They could hear nothing else, as pieces of crumbling stone and debris began raining down over them. A piece of rock struck their arm, causing them to let out a yelp and almost fall down a couple stairs. The stairs shook under them, destabilizing their footing and sending them tumbling backward to the ground. The last thing they saw before the debris shut the entrance and blocked all light was Ena as she lunged forward, face wrenched in horror, one arm extended as if to try and pull Mizuki out. Then, a splitting pain struck their skull, and the world went dark.

Pain.

A dull ache was the first thing catching Mizuki’s attention when they came to. They groaned, registering the pounding in their head and the pressure on their legs. Even opening their eyes seemed to take a monumental effort, but they managed. The space around them was dark, save for a tiny beam of light trickling through the tiny pocket that they seemed to be lying in. Gravel and debris surrounded them, dust clouding the air as they coughed and choked on it. Glancing around with squinted eyes, they noticed that they were buried under a pile of rocks, exerting a crushing amount of force on their legs.

“Mizuki?? Mizuki!” Ena’s muffled voice cut through the haze of pain Mizuki was in. Faintly, they were able to make out a shifting shadow, occasionally blocking their source of light as Ena presumably scrabbled at the rubble over them.

“I’m.. I’m here..” Mizuki managed to croak out, their voice weak and gravelly. They let out a weak cough as they inhaled a mouthful of powder, the sound pitiful even to them.

The sound of Ena’s movement stalled. “Mizuki! Where are you??” She asked, falling silent to attempt to locate Mizuki’s reply.

Mizuki drew in a shaky breath, trying to distract themselves from the pressure of the rocks digging into their limbs. “Down here…” They mumbled weakly, “I- I can’t move.” Ena’s movements began again, this time sounding audibly closer to Mizuki.

“D-Don't worry-!” Ena said shakily, her voice skipping and stuttering as the gap in Mizuki’s gravelly hole began to widen. “We’re- We’re gonna get you out!” Her tone was shaky, wrought with terror, but she didn’t seem to let up on her efforts to dig Mizuki out. Why? Mizuki wondered woozily. Her nails must be getting ruined… all that debris… They let out a choked squeak as something shifted one of the rocks onto their leg in a new position, digging into a brand new spot on their shin. Maybe the pain is fuzzing out my brain. Mizuki thought, face twitching in discomfort as a warm trickle of something crept ticklishly down the left side of their face. As they laid there, more voices joined Ena’s, more pairs of hands arriving and helping to move the rocks away.

Soon, Mizuki glanced up, blinking like a deer in headlights, as the roof of debris that had been over their head was cleared. It exposed them to the obnoxiously sunny sky, casting what seemed like an altogether too bright beam of light on them. They attempted to let out a relieved sigh, but winced as their ribs immediately began to protest. In fact, their limbs had begun to go numb as well, reducing what was once an all consuming pain to a bearable pressure that prickled uncomfortably as the edges of the rocks dug into their body.

Through the blur of dust and bleariness and voices all around them, they caught the faintest glimpse of warm brown hair amidst bright black and neon jackets. Ena. She had been pushed back slightly by the crowd of emergency service workers staring down at the collapsed entryway, eyes wide with terror. She reached out a hand, eyes distant with shock but still trained on Mizuki. All the latter could do was offer a weak smile.

“Shit… her hair-!” One of the EMS workers huffed. The others turned to look, all hissing various curses and returning to their efforts at lifting the rocks off of Mizuki’s body. The first EMS member turned to another, gesturing with his hands. “She’s completely stuck. We're going to have to cut it.”

Mizuki’s eyes widened. “W-Wait..” They whimpered. “Don’t-..”

The EMS worker shook his head. “I’m sorry.” He murmured, briskly striding over to reach behind Mizuki’s head. “Your hair is stuck. We can’t get you out if we don’t cut it.”

Without even the strength to struggle, Mizuki simply laid there, something inside them shriveling up as they squeezed their eyes shut.

…

Mizuki couldn’t remember what happened after that.

everything seemed to go by in a blur

it didn’t feel real.

nothing felt real

The next thing they remembered, they were in the hospital.

As they blinked back to consciousness, they noticed a variety of things. A soft light over them, casting them in a halo of fluorescent warmth. A monitor next to them, beeping softly in time with their heartbeat. A clean white blanket, draped gently over their legs.

Ena.

Her hair was messy and tangled, bits of dust still littering the brown strands. The braid she kept in her hair was loose, the ribbon frayed. But she was still there, sprawled out across the edge of Mizuki’s bed.

“Ena..?”

Mizuki croaked weakly. It was all they could manage. Ena stirred softly, but didn’t get up. Mizuki could feel their breathing speeding up slightly, their head growing slightly fuzzy.

“Ena.”

Mumbling once more, Mizuki stretched out a hand. They had meant to gently smack Ena awake, but their arm seemed to give out halfway, dropping on to the top of Ena’s head. While this didn’t wake her up, Ena did gently lean her head into Mizuki’s hand, humming sleepily. As much as Mizuki wanted to preserve this moment, something about the lack of weight on their head was beginning to send them into a panic.

“Please, Ena-“

Mizuki choked the words out, feeling their throat begin to close around the sobs begging to escape them. Ena stirred, blinking groggily before noticing Mizuki.

“Eh? Mizuki..?”

She took only a second to spot the tears in Mizuki’s eyes, snapping to attention and bolting up.

“Mizuki! Are you- alright?”

“Ena-”

Mizuki squeaked out, their voice feeling tight and entirely unlike them.

“Ena- m-my hair-…”

Ena’s face fell.

“Mizuki.. I- When y-you were stuck- … They had to-! …” She trailed off, scooting forward, closer to Mizuki. The latter scrambled away, limbs screaming with every movement as they desperately felt the back of their head.

Gone

Years of effort

Years of care

Sliced away in an instant.

“Mirror-!” Mizuki choked out, eyes wide with terror. Ena, still concerned, reached into her pocket and pulled out a small makeup mirror. She gently held it out to Mizuki as if coaxing a frightened animal. Mizuki took it, freezing fingers scraping against Ena’s warm hand for only a second before they pulled away.

Shakily, they opened the mirror

Ah.

They really had been ruined

Their breath began to catch in

their chest

It felt almost too difficult to continue

A monumental effort with

Every

Heaving

Gasp

Air

Hands reached around them, hugging them close, trying to coax them back down from their panic.

Mizuki leaned in, grasping at the warm girl in front of them like she was the only person who would ever exist. Their panicked breaths slowed, fingers slowly loosening their death grip on Ena’s sides.

They felt Ena relax too, muscles shedding their tension and sinking down without loosening her hold on Mizuki. The two seemed to melt together, a bundle of fabric and hair and warmth and tears.

Silent sobs continued to shake Mizuki’s body for several minutes, shamefully hiccupy squeaks escaping their mouth every now and then. Ena simply cradled them, gently stroking their back as their tears soaked into the shoulder of her shirt.

“E… Ena..?”

Mizuki’s voice was soft, a faint breath, almost more of a suggestion of speech than an actual question.

”….Mizuki?”

Ena’s reply was tentative, but there. A gentle whisper. An invitation to continue.

“Why… W-Why don’t you h-hate me?”

Mizuki’s voice was weak, sounding as close to breaking as a glass vase on the edge of a cliff. They sniffled softly, hands tensing against Ena’s back and digging into her shirt.

“I- I lied to you.”

They screwed up their eyes, trying desperately to stop the flow of tears. It didn’t work.

“All this time… I kept pretending I was- I… Was…”

Despite their best efforts, their voice cracked. The broken tone would’ve had them cringing at the sound, if they weren’t preoccupied with other things.

“… A- A real girl…”

The words tumbled out of their mouth,

shameful and

quiet and

wrong.

“Mizuki..”

Ena shifted, leaning closer to Mizuki, wrapping her warm arms further around their torso. They were shaking like a leaf, hiccuping occasionally as they tried vainly to keep their sobs in.

”I’ve never once thought you weren’t a real girl. Not back then, not now.”

…

Huh..?

Well, Ena’s always been a kind person, it’s understandable she’d feel-

“This isn’t pity.”

Ena said, cutting off Mizuki’s spiraling monologue.

”Mizuki.”

She slid back, cupping Mizuki’s cheeks in her hands. They tried to turn away, to hide their tear stained face and the shame they felt being this vulnerable. Ena gently held them there. Offering escape, should they try hard enough, but protesting softly. Mizuki slowly relaxed, eyes still closed against the flow of their tears.

“I don’t care what they said about you. I don’t care what anyone else thinks.”

“To me, you will always be Mizuki.”

“Whoever and whatever Mizuki happens to be.”

Mizuki simply sat there for a minute, stunned

how?

how could Ena still care for them?

“But… I’m..”

They stuttered, eyes fluttering open to the blurry sight of the girl in front of them.

“I’ll say this as many times as you need me to.” Ena murmured, gently using her thumbs to brush their tears away. As Mizuki’s vision cleared, they saw the smallest smile creasing Ena’s lips as she cast her warm gaze down on them. “I don’t care what you are, as long as you’re Mizuki. You could have horns, or a tail, or- or fifteen heads, or-!”

Mizuki couldn’t help themselves, an incredulous snort escaping them at the absurdity of Ena’s words. “F-Fifteen heads-?” They asked between hiccups, the corners of their mouth pulling up into a grin almost despite her current mood.

Ena herself flushed a brilliant red, stuttering for a second before reaffirming her resolve.

“Y-You know what I meant!” She exclaimed, shaking her head. Ena blew out an affectionately exasperated breath, the two of them lapsing back into their previous solemnity.

“Besides,” Ena began, “as far as I’m concerned, you haven’t told me your secret yet.”

Mizuki blinked, confused. “But..? You heard- Back there, on the rooftop-!”

Shaking her head, Ena’s expression softened as she made eye contact with Mizuki.

“You didn’t tell me. I don’t care what they said. I want to hear it from you.”

She tilted her head the slightest bit, giving Mizuki’s cheek a tender squeeze.

“As far as I’m concerned, I never heard anything at all.”

Mizuki’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly, tears welling up as they continued to stare at Ena.

“Will you tell me, Mizuki?”

In that moment, all they saw was Ena. That small, kind smile. The warmth in her crinkled eyes. The slight swishing of her brown hair in the fall breeze.

“I-…”

Mizuki swiped at the traitorous tears escaping their eyes, giving Ena a slow nod.

“Yeah… Yeah, I’ll tell you.”

They lifted their gaze, meeting Ena’s eyes.

“Ena, I…”

“I- Wasn’t born a girl.”

The words began to fall out of Mizuki’s mouth, cracks breaking down the dam she’d kept up for so long. Letting everything she’d held back flow out with a cathartic yet frightening sort of ease. Ena slipped her hands down to her lap, letting Mizuki talk without interruption.

“I’ve always felt more like a girl, well, ever since I can remember. Boyish clothes and things never felt right, puberty felt like an absolute nightmare-“

They were rambling now, random story after inconsequential tidbit, but Ena simply sat and watched them through it all.

“It took me until middle school to realize that this was- a thing, you know? Something that happened to other people besides me. And that I could do something about it.”

Mizuki glanced down at their trembling hands, but kept talking.

“So… I started to change the way I dressed. The way I acted. Even my voice.”

They glanced up, putting on a weak smile.

“This is the Mizuki you’re used to, eh, Ena?”

Their voice raised, not happy, but higher. It sounded like the familiar voice Ena had been hearing for months prior. It began to strike her then, how much lower Mizuki’s voice had been than normal.

The smile seemed to slip from Mizuki’s face, leaving behind a tender sort of sadness.

“I’m sorry I deceived you.”

Barely a murmur, the words slipped from their mouth and dissipated into the open air. Ena shook her head.

“You didn’t.” Mizuki raised an eyebrow at Ena’s rebuttal, mildly alarmed. Ena shook her head. “Ah- No, not like that. It’s just- I don’t think what you did was deception. You were scared, and I think that’s a completely fair reason to hold off on telling us.”

Mizuki shrugged mildly, glancing away. Tears began to prick at their eyes, but they rubbed them away, shaking their head.

“Yeah, but- I-”

“You’re not a bad person, Mizuki.”

Mizuki blinked.

“What..?”

Ena tilted her head. Smiled that patient, kind smile.

“You’re not a bad person. You never have been.”

Mizuki froze.

Not a bad person-?

Them?

But-

“None of this changes how I think of you.”

Ena murmured.

“You’re still Mizuki to me.”

“My groupmate.”

“My friend.”

“Nothing will change that.”

Mizuki simply sat there

They couldn’t think of anything to say

Tears flowed freely down their face, but they didn’t raise a finger to stop them.

“I-”

It felt like their voice had disappeared.

“I…”

But they had to respond-

“…”

Before they could, Ena pulled them into a hug.

“You don’t have to say anything- Just. Promise you won’t disappear on us?”

Ena’s voice was a quiet murmur by Mizuki’s shoulder, her warm breath lightly dancing across their ear as she spoke.

“Recover fast, stay in touch- Don’t leave us. Please..?”

Mizuki heard Ena’s voice waver, could feel the shaky breaths she was inhaling.

“I…”

Their instincts were screaming to

Run.

Hide.

Escape.

It was what had saved them before

But Ena was different.

Kanade,

Mafuyu,

Rui,

Akito,

All of the friends they had made.

They were all different.

Mizuki slowly raised their arms

Maybe, this time…

“Ena, I…”

They wrapped their arms around Ena, returning the hug.

Maybe, this time could be different too.

“I will. I promise.”

Word count: 2,670

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mixtapedoh · 20 hours ago

Note

hi hi this isn’t a request, more of a “i do not have anyone else to scream about this with” BUT ANYWAYSS, idk if you listen to keshi but i was listening to Soft Spot on repeat and I cannot get woozi out of my mind send help. might have to start writing for svt at this rate. anyways back to studying for midterms i go, hope you’ve been well olive!

NOT A REQUEST BUT I CAN'T CONTAIN MYSELF BECAUSE FUCK YEAH YOU GET ITTTTTTTTTTTT.

also, hi jen <3 how are you <3 i have been habitually away from tumblr and that is my fault because i saw this like two weeks ago and was going to listen to the song you sent and then. simply did not. forgive me, forgive me, i am unworthy of such correct headcanons and vibechecks, but thank you for sharing them regardless.

ʏᴏᴜ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ɪ ɢᴏᴛ ᴀ ꜱᴏꜰᴛ ꜱᴘᴏᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ .⭒˚.⋆˙⭒.✮

.⭒˚.⋆˙⭒.✮

"so i was just talking to hoshi—" you opened the door to your apartment and set down your keys, tugging off your shoes and already mid conversation, as had become your habit, after moving in with jihoon. you paused for a half second, just long enough to wrestle off your other shoe, and from somewhere deep in the apartment, you heard jihoon's wordless sound of interest. i'm listening. "—and he is somehow under the impression that we are going clubbing with him and the others this friday."

you walked into into the main room, your steps soft and meandering, where jihoon sat on the couch, his guitar next to him and a notebook resting on his lap. he had a pencil twirling in his fingers, and when you caught his eye and asked, "do you know anything about that?" he looked down and pretended to write something.

"yeah, i told him we'd both go." his voice did it's best to feign casual disinterest.

"you told him? you??" the surprise in your voice was giddy and sweet, bubbling like a can of coke just popped, carbonation fizzing.

jihoon still didn't meet your gaze. "you've been saying you need an excuse to wear that new outfit you bought a month ago... and we're spending that night together anyway. i knew you didn't have any scheduling conflicts." he was mumbling this last bit, and the erratic twirling of his pencil did little to hide his nervousness. "two birds, one stone."

you had the buoyancy to laugh, warm as the late afternoon sun coming in through the window. "woozi. you hate clubbing."

he had to look at you, this time. if only to see how your face would melt further into affection and tender admiration. not that he was somehow any better — all the attention made his complexion rosy, and for the life of him, he couldn't wipe off this stupid grin. "but i love you."

"ji!!" the whole of you spun into a whirlwind of motion as the lovesickness hit you square in the chest. you covered your face in embarrassment, and when jihoon laughed, it only brought you somehow closer, now standing above him, your legs brushing the front of the couch. "you can't say that! makes me blush... makes me all stupid in love."

he managed to capture your pinky with his. "it's a good look on you."

you swatted his chest with your free hand, and jihoon pulled you closer, sitting you on his thighs and kissing you deeply. you intertwined your fingers with his, and after breaking away, kiss both of his cheeks. twice. for all that jihoon loves to claim he doesn't understand romance and doesn't believe in all the mushy stuff, he certainly always tries to get it right with you.

you kiss his neck, and jihoon sighs your name contentedly. you smile against his skin before pulling away to ask, "are you really gonna give up our inuyasha rerun night for clubbing with hoshi?"

his face contorts into a playful grimace, and you can't help but laugh at the expression. "that's when loving you becomes the operating part of my promise."

.⭒˚.⋆˙⭒.✮

#olive.writes #seventeen imagine #seventeen x you #seventeen x reader #woozi imagine #woozi x you #woozi x reader #someone kiss woozi's cheeks for me please and thank you <333333 #if you ever think i'm doing well just remind me of HE and i will crumble #wrote this instead of doing work trainings yeahhhhh #honestly the main times i come onto tumblr is when i'm avoiding doing work so perhaps you'll see me a bit more these next few weeks #i'm doing literacy training and it's DRY AS FUCK #if you see typos please ignore and forgive this is short so i'm not proofreading or anything

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shatcey · 2 days ago

Text

Dark IF (William)

The main part of this event basically coincides with William's main story. I'm not even kidding. The same situations, the same words… At first I was pretty sad about it but… the endings are really good.

Of course, I finished both of them. I liked the bitter ending better. Perhaps, like certain someone (who say the exact opposite), I love drama too much.

After Victor send Kate to the twisted word with parting words "it's in you hands to find the happy ending..." Kate recalled...

Not creapy at all... all things considered...

As soon as Kate appears in the twisted world, she meets Cheshire cat Liam. Who introduced himself quite happily. Suddenly the bell rings. And Liam explained that this meant that someone had been beheaded on the orders of King of Hearts William. And this is a common occurrence in this world.

Kate seemed to ask too many questions about William, and Liam asked if she was interested in him. But no, she just needs to find what's missing. The lying Fox Harrison appeared. And Liam recommends him as an informant.

I'm not in a position to judge, but if someone was presented as a "liar"… why would you trust him? And even more so to buy information from him? Who knows what he's telling you. Well, we all know that we can trust Harry, but this is her first time meeting him. There's no way she could have known about it.

Kate had nothing to pay, so she decided to look for information on her own. Liam told her about William's abilities and advised her to be cautious around him.

She decided that it would be very stupid to meet William without preparation. This guy must be crazy (these are her thoughts, not mine). She resolutely went to the city and… found herself in front of his castle. It's really a destiny.

She looked at the strangely familiar castle (familiar to me, not to her), but decided that she shouldn't go there…

How did he manage to jump so high? Is he magical? Don't tell me it's Benjamin… Wait a minute… Jewel? Victor? Are you playing matchmaker again, you little... rabbit?

And, of course, there were no guards or servants in this castle, so no one stopped her, and she ended up in the dining room with William… There may have been servants there, but they've been turned into furniture or something. Oh, sorry… the wrong fairy tale…

How did he know her name? He… сan't read minds for real this time, can he?

…and we on his main route. Do fun stuff and became free from the morality and expectations of society. And, of course, Kate fell for him very hard. Nothing new.

A sudden thought…. Are we stuck on Groundhog Day by any chance?

She couldn't find what is missing so returned to Harrison. Harry asked her what she would give him for this information.

Harry replied with his canonical "that's not half bad" and told her about William.

It turns out that the people William executes have committed terrible crimes in the past, but cannot be judged by the law. So he chooses the path of destroying "evil with evil". Strangely familiar isn't? And since the bells were ringing at that time, many people were so scared of it that the number of crimes in this country decreased significantly.

And as a bonus, he added that there is Mad Hatter who is plotting something against William. He wants to dethrone William and take his place. Indeed, this guy is crazy.

Kate returns to the castle and asks William to explain himself. So he tells her about why he frees people. He said exactly the same as he said on his route. A selfish observer… something like that. And he asks her what she wants, and… she tell him. And in the morning she wakes up in his bed, remembering last night and blushing. Typical Kate.

But she noticed opened letter and read it…

And here we have two endings. The developers don't give any recommendations, but it seems to me that chronologically the bitter ending comes first. You'll understand what I mean.

Bitter ending

Kate remembered her conversation with Harry and decided that she needed to warn Will about Mad Hatter. But she searched the whole castle and couldn't find him. She thinks he's probably gone to the court, and she has a very bad feeling about it.

She ran out of the castle, just wondering for a moment where exactly the court was, and Liam ran up to her. Explaining that there was a commotion in the court, but he didn't see her and became worried. Kate asked him to show her which way the court was, which he did.

In court, the final verdict is announced by the judge

I'm so glad it's not Vivi. This guy is really crazy.

The guards pulled out their guns and pointed them at William. Wait a minute… Are you going to do it right here? There will be blood everywhere… Oh, you have red carpets, so there's nothing to worry about. Okay, continue.

At the last moment… Kate jumped out of nowhere and covered Will with her body. I really thought he was going to die this time… But that's impossible when Kate is around.

Right, we need Roger! Roger, where are you? Oh... right... the wrong fairy tale... again

He asks her why she did it, and she replies that she doesn't know, her body moved on its on. She loses consciousness due to blood loss and doesn't hear his words.

I have goosebumps. This is so…

She thinks that she still cannot leave, she has forgotten something… In the black void of nothingness, she finally remembered. Then she was a child and could do whatever she liked, she visited Wonderland and met the king of hearts. They spent several days together, and she did whatever she wanted, and if she was in danger, William protected her. But he said she had to come home. As parting words, he asked her to be honest about her wishes. She asked him what if she became the one who wouldn't do it?

Oh, so this is what she heard at the beginning?...

Kate opens her eyes and find herself in the library. There is no pain or blood on her. She's definitely returned back to the real world. She remembers everything. She promised to protect him when they met again, but she forgot about it. And because of that, she faced such a bad ending. She looks around and thinks that, despite the fact she return to the real world, this place seems bleak. Because her lover is not here…

She thinks that even if she finds herself in Wonderland again, the same ending may await her. But her heart is free, and it screams that she wants to see him again… And this time with determination to find her happy ending… she "jumps" into the book.

Victor and Harrison are in the theater-like place. Harry informs Victor that Kate will be coming back to them soon.

I'm not sure if Vivi said "you", he could say "we" or "me"… I didn't take a screenshot with JP's text.

So… this endless sad circle can only be broken with a happy ending. And for that, she just needs to find what is missing…

Premium ending

Kate read the letter and decided to warn William again, but this time he came up to her with a tray of tea.

Oh, can you make tea? Why am I even surprised, you're the same perfect self.

She asks him about a letter and what he plans to do. Of course he will come, because that's what he has to do to stay true to himself. She reply he could be killed… But he doesn't think that's a big deal. Kate clings to his jacket to keep him from leaving… And we're back to his route…

Kate begged him to cancel the order, not to leave her… But he only smiled and kissed her on the forehead. The door closed and Kate wondering why this William's kiss seemed so familiar to her. And she remembered memories from her childhood. When they parted, she promised to protect him the next time they met, he laughed and planted a soft kiss on her forehead.

They must be magical…

So… Remembering everything, she was even more determined to help him, but that she could possibly do… Scream, girl, it always works if you need to attract attention.

But she didn't even have to do that, Liam came in. She's freed from Will's order and can run after him, and the same as it was at the Bitter ending, she asked Liam to show the way.

In court, the judge passes the same sentence, the guards point guns at Will, and Kate jumps in front of him again

Will laughs and asks her why she acted like it was the end. Kate suddenly realized that she didn't feel any pain. She looked at the place where she thought she had been shot.

As I thought… The watch is magical… It catches all the bullets.

Will looked around at the people in court, ordered them to "Not move" and called Harrison over. Harry showed up and explained that Mad Hatter was spreading false rumors about William, but in fact these were his crimes. And members of parliament take bribes to hide them. Criminals!

William said that if it was only Mad Hatter's sincere wish, he would have allowed himself to be killed. But Mad Hatter started destroying other people's lives, and he can't forgive him. So…

And again, it's good that they have red carpets… What am I saying?..

Several days later Kate and William are having a crazy tea party for two in the dining room. Kate asks if he knows what is missing. She hasn't returned home, so she still hasn't found it. He says if she wants to come home, he won't stop her. But she means exactly the opposite. If she had known what was missing, she would never have found it to stay with him forever.

So he has a theory, but...

This kind of won't help… I'll definitely forget what we talked about in an instant…

I didn't buy epilogue, but I probably will… if so, I will write about it later. If there's anything in it besides "hot stuff". And… if there's still a point in it. This event will most likely take place on the EN server in late November or early December.

My thoughts

I really like the way they combine everything together. The clock, the voice she heard, the feeling that she had forgotten something important… It's really amazing. At first, I was really upset that story was repeated. But the developers managed to create a new version based on the old one, and it's really amazing. After a slight change in the key points, everything looks completely different. Will's magic call was presence on the main route, but it was a subtle hint like her deep thoughts. This is the main key here. He called her, he lured her into this world. The first, the second time… maybe millions of times. And she continued to follow his call. It really feels like destiny.

I'm actually really curious… If William's story is so similar with his route, maybe other's stories as well? I haven't read Alfons's story, I was waiting for it to appear on the EN server, so I can't be sure.

I really like the idea of Victor as a god-like character, a kind of storyteller… who knows how the story should be like… and don't stop until it's exactly like that. Or… I have goosebumps… he is destiny itself.

And I'm really interested to know what the role of the Fox is in this world… Why does he remember everything, even if everyone's memories supposed to be reset?

In addition, I want to say that the part in the real world on the bitter ending is written so well that I was tempted to show you the whole scene. But I was stopped by the number of screenshots that I could put in one post. I really like it, it gives me goosebumps, no matter how many times I reread it. And yes, I cried… It's too good…

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🔝 𝕊𝕋𝔸ℝ𝕋 ℙ𝔸𝔾𝔼 🔝

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