#So the prompt today is love triangle!

[tsuutarr]

With a dazzling burst of light, your summoning circle flickers as a figure begins to materialize with a golden glow. Soon, bright violet eyes meet yours.

“Are you my new witch?” the voice gasps, eyes sunny and smile toothy.

You give him an affirmative, which makes the light spirit seem to glow even brighter.

“Oh! I’m so excited!” he beams, bursting with sunlight and energy. He grabs your hands in his, warming up your skin. “I’ll be the best familiar ever, promise!”

And he is a rather good familiar, doing everything you instruct without much protest or error. His upbeat attitude is really pleasant to be around, too.

The only catch is that he changes at night. When the sun goes down, basking him with moonlight instead of sunlight, his skin turns from gold and sunkissed to silver and moonkissed. 

“Did he not tell you?” your new moonkissed familiar asks, referring to his sunny counterpart. “What a loser...” He eyes you up and down, before letting out a small huff. “I guess you’ll do fine.”

Your moonkissed familiar is… more terse and sharp edged, his lips in a perpetual scowl. However, it’s evident that he doesn’t really mind being yours – not with how he follows you around, helping you with the little things. And when you curl up at night to go to bed, he’s a comfortable pillow that lets you cuddle him close.

“It’s not fair,” your sunkissed companion complains when you awake with the sun. “He gets to cuddle you? I wanna hold you too!”

It’s really not your fault, but your sunkissed companion is too much like a puppy to take too seriously. So, instead, you allow him to hug you more, his hands clinging to you whenever they can.

“You’re just lettin’ him touch you whenever?” your moonkissed companion asks when the moon is in its zenith. You give a curious look, which makes him scowl, his gaze flickering away. “I’m just sayin’ okay? It’s not ‘cause I’m jealous or something.”

Oh, so he’s jealous. Now that you think about it, you’re pretty sure your sunkissed companion was jealous, too.

You’re really not sure what to make of this revelation, though. The last thing you expected was to be stuck in a love triangle between your… familiar? Familiars? They’re technically the same familiar, but they’re also not, which is kind of complicated.

Well… it’s nothing to worry about, probably.

But oh, how wrong you are. As the days pass, that much is obvious.

“You like me better, right?” your sunkissed familiar asks, suffocating you with his warmth. He’s gotten clingier and clingier, smothering you with his presence.

“There’s no way you like that dolt better,” your moonkissed familiar states, constantly hovering over you with his chill. You don’t know if he’s aware of it or not, but you’ve been getting less and less sleep with him around.

Nowadays, they’re just… always around you. Day and night. There’s no escape, no room to breathe. They’re always there somehow, always watching.

It’s driving you crazy. Maybe it is something to worry about. Maybe it’s for the best if you cancel the familiar contract.

“What?” your sunkissed familiar asks, eyes wide. “Oh, no, no. Darling witch, why would you say that?”

As you feel him burn hotter, you quickly realize that bringing up the idea to him was a mistake.

After all, light spirits are notoriously powerful and you’re just a newbie witch. There’s no way you can control him unless he offers that control to you – you should’ve realized that.

And, well, from the look in his eyes, it looks like he’s done letting you take charge.

“You’re our witch, darling. For as long as the light shines.”

[luveline]

pleaseee anything angsty with bombshell!reader and spencer!! love you

love you!

When Jason Gideon dies, it’s alone with his murderer. Isolated from friends and family, years after you last heard from him. Spencer hasn’t spoken to him since he left, and yet the ruin on his face when it’s confirmed to be Gideon churns your stomach. 

He rushes out of the room. 

You look at Gideon, dead, and regret that you never got along. You barely knew him. So when Derek leaves to follow Spencer out, you don’t go with them, thinking Derek has better common ground. 

“You okay?” you ask Hotch quietly. 

He nods, solemn. “Do you want to go check on Reid?” he asks, equally hushed. 

“I think Morgan has it for now.” You turn away from Gideon. You don’t want to see him dead, it’s too scary when it’s someone you know. It reminds you that it could’ve been you, or Spencer. 

You don’t find time to speak to your poor bookworm until later that night when you’ve been forced to retire in dinky motel rooms. You and Spencer used to share because you were the only person normal enough not to complain when he infodumps, and because you were fond of him. Then because you were best friends, and now because you’re in love. How lucky you’ve been. 

He’s always had it rough, though. 

You’d asked him multiple times throughout the day if he was okay, and every now and then he’d nodded or sniffled, but now he’s alone with you his facade fades completely, and you want to have a real talk. 

His shoulders rock. You reach out for him. He breaks for the bathroom. 

“Spencer?” you ask, startled. 

The door shuts hard between you, frame shaking.

“Spencer, are you okay?” 

You cross the brown carpeting to grab the handle. You pause there, heart dropping as the weak sound of muffled sobbing reaches your ears. “Spencer,” you say, soft, and without any teasing. You’re capable of seriousness sometimes. “Sweetheart, are you okay?” 

“Can I be alone?” he asks.

He sounds strained. 

“I’d rather you weren’t. I don’t know what you’ll do.” 

“What?” he asks. 

“People do strange things when they’re upset. I just want to be with you, that’s all.” 

“I’m fine,” he says shortly. 

You’d be offended, but like you said. People do strange things when they’re upset, and this is worse than just being upset. This is grief. Intangible, cruel. Spencer has a history of doing things that aren’t good for him when he’s hurting. You’ve no interest in leaving him alone. 

“Spencer… I love you. I want to be near you.”

Your straight-forwardness pays off. 

“Okay,” he says. “It’s not locked.” 

That’s reassuring. You open the door, find him standing at the sink with his cheeks wet with thick tears. He crumples when he sees you, hiding his face in his hands. 

You’re not sure what to do. Loving someone, you tend to love all of them, and you’ve yet to find parts of Spencer you couldn’t adore, but he just lost somebody important to him and you have no idea how to handle it. You decide to try, whether jumping into it will do any good or not. You walk right into his chest and hug him. 

“Sorry,” you murmur, “I love you. I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s okay.” He takes a shaky, odd breath, like he might laugh. He tries to as he holds your shoulders. “God, it’s okay, don’t be sorry.” 

“I am. It’s not fair. I never want you to lose anyone.” 

He presses his lips into a hard line and nods, prompting tears down his cheeks one after the other. “It’s okay.” 

It’s not okay. Spencer cries and you watch him, his hands weak on your shoulders. His hair is greasy at the roots from all the heat of being upset, his face pink, his eyes swollen and sore. His lashes are sticking together in dark triangles, while his sclera turns bloodshot. It’s clear that today has been extremely hard on him, and you should’ve done more. “I should’ve come after you, I’m sorry. I thought Morgan would have a better chance at making you feel better.” You wipe his cheeks, and tuck lank hair behind his ears. “I need you to know I’m here for you.” 

He’s putting on a brave face, slowly but surely. “I know that.” 

“Listen, do you want to shower?” you ask. 

“I want to sit down forever.” 

“We’ll shower first. I’ll come in with you, alright? We can wash your hair, the warm water will be good for your eyes.” You frown sympathetically. “You’ve cried all day.” 

“I can’t believe he’s gone. I wish I’d tried harder to see him. To talk to him again.” 

“You can… I know it’s not the same, but you can tell me. Anything you wanted to say to him, I’ll listen. You can tell me everything.” 

He nods again. More brave face, more unnerving, fake smile. 

You run your hands down his hair, and use your hands to tilt his head forward gently. “You can be alone if you really want to, but I just can’t have that closed door. You understand?” 

“No, I want to shower with you.” He sniffs. “Sorry if I scared you.” 

“It’s not scary.” You curl your arm behind his neck to pull him in for a careful hug. You hold him without moving, relieved when he holds you back, though his hands are limp where they’d usually be rubbing at your shoulders. “It wasn’t scary, I mean. I didn’t mean to suggest you’d do something, but I think the last thing you should be right now is alone. Thanks for letting me stay.” 

He breathes in your neck. “This is nice.” 

You bend back to encourage him further into your arms. “You’re doing so well,” you murmur, rubbing his back in a slow stroke, “you can get through this. We’ll do right by him, I promise. You’re not alone.” 

“I used to feel it. He was the first person who… really looked out for me, before he left.” Spencer sniffles, glassy eyes softening where he looks down at you. “Nobody’s ever stayed with me. No one.” 

“Well, I’m not going anywhere.” 

He sniffles again. “I know… Will you still shower with me?” 

“Mm-hm. Wash your hair for you, if you want me to.” 

“Please.” 

“Costs a kiss,” you say softly. 

“You want one from me right now?” he asks. He’s joking, because he knows you always want one. 

Your spirits finally begin to recuperate. “Plant one on me, handsome… only if you want to.” 

He turns away from you to wipe his face, both of you laughing, him wetly, you in relief. Both with a little bit of guilt. Maybe because life goes on without the people who pass, and that will always feel wrong. 

He turns back to you. Sadness darkens his eyes, but he closes them and leans down tentatively to kiss you. 

You take his soft one, borrow a firmer one, and wrap him up in another hug. Love you, love you, love you, you think. You’re going to make sure that he’s okay. 

[gay-dorito-dust]

Giving Bill Cipher the princess treatment prompt or hc's? (Bill totally isn't threatening Reader's entire family if they don't princess carry him and call him babygirl) I love how you write Bill by the way!

Warning: unhealthy relationship stuff and threats from bill.

After everything that went down with sixer and his supposed ‘betrayal’ bill didn’t think he’d find an another puppet companion so soon until one day he came across poor unfortunate you.

Some half baked sob stories of his origins and looking through his fingers at you to make sure you were feeling sympathy for him later, and you were effectively under his thumb by the end of the week. The quickest he’s ever manipulated someone into feeling sorry for him yet!

Now you were stuck forced to carry him in your arms whenever he wished and calling him…baby girl…why you never bothered to ask as whenever you did raise things into question with Bill it usual turns out something like this:

You: don’t you think that’s a little extreme?

Bill: and here I thought you were suppose to be supportive of my dreams and aspirations. Oh well I guess you didn’t need your family that much if you’re quick to question me-

You: No! It’s a brilliant plan! No flaws at all! You’re so smart…baby girl…

Bill: *smirks when you fall back in line* good now I demand to be carried in your arms *he gives you grabby hands*

You: *sigh* yes baby girl *proceeds to pick him up and carry him for the rest of the day*

You’d even have to call Bill baby girl when your mad unless you wanted the corpses of your family to be piled up on your front door!

It was ridiculous but what could you do when stuck in a less than ideal relationship with a demonic triangle who could bring you to heel with a simple click of his fingers? You were doomed to be his servant for the sake of your family and even if you did go to anyone about it, who’d believe you? You’d be the new old man Mcgucket for certain.

So you only sigh and do whatever Bill wanted in hopes it will satisfy him enough to leave your family alone, even if it was brief.

The worst case scenario would be If bill saw that you weren’t being enthusiastic in your affection towards him, then that would be a harder thing to dig your way out of. It didn’t matter whether you were tired mentally or physically, if Bill wanted to be carried in your arms he will want you to do so with a complicit smile on your face.

Bill: you don’t look happy to be carrying me? *squints his eye*

You: *quickly puts on a fake smile* what?! I’m more than happy to carry my baby girl! It’s the only highlight of my day, nothing could ever compete with spending time with my baby girl!

Bill: good! For a second there I thought you’d have to be attending a family members funeral for a moment. Haha guess I must’ve been seeing things, right? *he stares uncomfortably at you*

You: yeah because how could I ever show you any other emotion other than happiness and love. *internally dying*

Bill: also don’t over compliment me, it makes you look clingy and I don’t like clingy.

You internally: as if you aren’t clingy yourself you fucking discarded sentient Dorito chip.

It’s better to keep playing his game until he inevitably grows bored of you, and god forbid if you ever encounter Stanford Pines ever, your family is certain for destruction if Bill caught you talking to his traitorous ex partner. (Potential for Stanford x reader?)

Needles to say if you were to ever be granted the ability to time travel, you’d go back and warn yourself to not trust Bill Cipher, not if you want your family’s blood on your hands just because you didn’t call him Babygirl first thing in the morning.

You: morning bi-

Bill: whichever family member your love the most will die in 5 seconds if you don’t correct yourself sweetie.

You: morning babygirl, what should we do today?

Bill: *pats you on the shoulder* that wasn’t so hard was it? And I don’t feel like doing anything that requires me to part from you for suspicious periods of time incase you do something I don’t like. *stares at you menacingly*

You: good choice! All day with my babygirl? I’m so lucky…so extremely….lucky. *looks over at the photo of your family and friends* blessed even…

Bill: you sure are! Now why don’t you carry me! *grabby hands 2.0*

[pennyellee]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐥𝐲 𝐄𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭

title: The Butterfly Effect pairings: idol!yoongi x reader/girlgroup member!reader; idol!jimin x reader genre: idol!au, lowkey love triangle, smut romance, drama, short story word count: 6,5K beta read by @chaoticpuff17 (ily)

prompt 1: "but when I near you I feel flames" prompt 2: "I knew the power of a single wish, after all. Invisible and inevitable, like a butterfly that beats its wings in one corner of the globe and with that single action changes the weather halfway across the world." - Alice Hoffman, for The Ice Queen (2005)

summary: Through a series of events and a lingering phone call, Yoongi discovers that love, like the flutter of a butterfly’s wings, has the power to transform everything—and perhaps, give him a second chance at the one person he lets slip away. A series of moments that etched your destiny. The butterfly effect had begun, and the future was in motion.

warnings: minors dni 18+ | sexual tension, explicit language, possessiveness, teasing, oral sex (f!receiving), unprotected sex (mutual consent but stay safe!), raw sex, love love love, pulling out, belly cum, desperate and emotionally charged intimacy, emotional vulnerability, jealousy, heartbreak, hallucinations, heightened emotions, overthinking and so on (may add some after re-read)

disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain strong language, explicit content, jealous behaviour, sexual activity, unprotected sexual encounter and so on.

a/n: I have revived this story last year and came back to it in january. Originally I wanted to keep it to myself, possibly release it when the drought will be more sensible. I impulsively decided to release it today. If you recognise this story, that is going to turn my lucky number this year - seven - congratulations you've been a bts fan for a looong time and most likely you watched this, yes watched. This was a short video story on my old youtube channel. When I look back at the form and stripped language that was filled by visuals, I can definitely cringe a little, but isn't romance suppose to be at least a little cringey? Kept that part, we need that cheesiness from time to time. It has its magic, but really dunno, that's why I revived the story and rewritten it. The original, let's say "script" had only around 300 words and as this story has sentimental feeling to me, I wanted to keep it alive somehow, and it is most likely that I will archive majority of my video content on yt, so I'm gonna let this story, that was part of my first ever universe, to quietly live here. And of course, happy late birthday to our precious Yoongles! PS: fan fact, I'm fucking terrified of night butterflies, another fan fact, I live for symbolism.

2016 In the tapestry of your shared experiences, you wove a tale together—a tale that replays in his mind, reminding him of the radiant sunbeam you were.

Your smile, a gentle sunrise, casting light into even the deepest recesses of his being. Your laughter, a melody that could mend the deepest wounds of his soul. The love he holds for you in his heart, boundless and deep, now bears the heavy weight of regret because he let you slip away.

Your story begins with a chance—a fleeting moment in time when your eyes first meet his. Love stirring within him long before he dared to confess it. From a distance, he was just one of your many fans whilst having a big name himself. But to you, he’s the enigmatic man standing among the crowd during your concert in Manila, his gaze heavy with something you can’t quite name.

It’s Yoongi who first falls, long before the night he gathers the courage to approach you, lost in the melody of your voice. To him, your singing is ethereal, pure as a dove’s cry.

He wanted you to be his dove, his one and only, and his sunshine.

It was a friend who paved the way, introducing you to a connection that seemed like a dream.

"They were amazing, weren’t they?" Taehyung nudges him after the concert. "Come on, I’ll introduce you, Hyung."

"Wait—what? No, no, I’m good," Yoongi protests, but the younger man, dating one of your bandmates, is already pulling him backstage.

When you turn, your smile nearly stops his heart.

Of course you knew who Min Yoongi was, there is no doubt about that.

The moment your eyes meet, the world seems to fade, leaving only the two of you in the dimly lit backstage area. Your smile is radiant, disarming in a way that steals the breath from his lungs.

"Min Yoongi," you say, a slight tilt to your head, as if you’re still processing the sight of him in person. "I can’t believe we’re finally meeting. Taehyung’s told me a lot about you."

Yoongi shifts awkwardly, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket. "He has, huh?"

"Only good things," you assure him, your laughter like a delicate melody. "But I didn’t need him to tell me. I’ve been a fan of yours for years."

The words hit him like a shockwave. You—a fan of his? His mind scrambles for a response, but all he can manage is a shy smile.

"Well, I guess we’re even," he says, his voice quieter than he intended. "I’ve been a fan of yours for a while too."

Taehyung watches the exchange with a knowing grin, nudging Yoongi lightly. "See? I told you it’d be fine. Don’t let your chance slip, Hyung."

Asking you out required a courage summoning of epic proportions, a leap into the unknown. The possibility that you might say yes seemed like a distant hope, but against all odds, you did agree to go on a date with him.

Yoongi glares at him briefly before looking back at you. "Uh, would it be too forward if I asked for your number? Or, you know, maybe we could… grab a cup of coffee sometime?"

Your smile widens, and the warmth in your eyes sets his heart racing.

"I’d like that."

For a moment, he’s convinced this is a dream.

But, for the first time in a long while, hope blooms in his chest, fragile yet undeniable. He doesn’t know where this will lead, but one thing is certain: you’re already unforgettable to him.

Your dates were filled with laughter, shared secrets, and a love that felt destined to last an eternity. Or that’s how you felt when looking into his eyes, observing his soul these past months.

"So," he begins, fiddling with his coffee cup. "What made you decide to start singing?"

You smile, leaning forward. "Honestly? It's not that deep. It was my escape. Music always felt like home to me, even when nothing else did."

"Totally not deep," he says, a small smile tugging at his lips and you chuckle, almost chocking on your coffee. Banter it is, Min Yoongi.

By the end of the night, you’re laughing at his jokes, and he’s falling harder than he ever thought possible.

Thus began a series of moments that etched your destiny. Each a butterfly effect, that would echo through the rest of your lives.

The soft rustle of pages filled the air, the only sound in the dimly lit room. You were sitting cross-legged on the plush hotel bed, the book balanced against your knees. Yoongi reclined beside you, his fingers lightly brushing over yours as if testing the boundaries of proximity.

The words pull you in, wrapping you in their magic, until one particular passage makes you pause. Tilting your head slightly, you read the line again, savoring it before speaking aloud.

"I knew the power of a single wish, after all. Invisible and inevitable, like a butterfly that beats its wings in one corner of the globe and with that single action changes the weather halfway across the world," you say softly, your voice almost a whisper.

"Damn that Alice—" he remarked right after. He’s been watching you in silence, but at the sound of your voice, he lets out a skeptical scoff.

"Do you really believe that?"

You look up, meeting his eyes with a small smile. "Believe what?"

"All that butterfly effect nonsense," he replies, waving a hand dismissively. "A single wish? A tiny action changing the world? Sounds like something people say to feel better about their bad decisions."

You tilt your head, studying him with a playful glint in your eyes. "You’re such a cynic," you tease lightly, though there’s a trace of seriousness in your tone. "It’s not about feeling better. It’s about recognizing that the smallest actions can have the biggest consequences. That everything we do matters in ways we might not understand."

He huffed a laugh, shaking his head. "Sure, but that’s just romanticising chaos. Life isn’t that poetic."

"That’s rich coming from you, Suga." You say playfully.

His eyes narrow slightly at the use of his stage name, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips despite his best efforts to stay annoyed.

"You’re really pushing it, huh?" he mutters playfully, there’s no real heat behind his words. He could not be mad at you.

You smile back at him, unbothered by his sarcasm, and let the quiet between you stretch for a moment before you speak again, your voice soft but firm.

"I’m serious, Yoongi. I know it sounds far-fetched, but imagine if every little thing we do ripples out in ways we can’t predict. Like a butterfly flapping its wings and causing a storm somewhere else in the world. What if, just once, the smallest action—something you didn’t even think about—changed everything for the better?"

Finally, he mutters, "or worse, I’ll stick to reality, thanks."

You shrug, not willing to argue any further, but in your heart, you can’t help but think—maybe, just maybe, one day he’ll understand.

Maybe, like the butterfly in that quote, his wings will flap in a way that he never expected and change everything.

And maybe, one moment, one mistake, one wish will set into motion a series of events that will prove the butterfly effect is more real than he ever imagined.

By the time Yoongi understands, it will already be too late—or perhaps, just in time.

"You’re staring again," you teased, glancing at him with a playful smirk.

"Can you blame me?" His voice was low, almost reverent, as his eyes traced the curve of your cheek. "You’re… captivating."

The blush that crept up your neck didn’t go unnoticed. "Captivating, huh? You’ve been writing too many lyrics, Min Yoongi."

"Maybe," he murmured, leaning in just slightly. "But I’ve never been more honest."

The air between you grew heavy, charged with an unspoken longing. You tilted your head, the space between your lips and his disappearing as you whispered,

"maybe you could turn them into actions."

He didn’t hesitate, his mouth capturing yours in a kiss that started soft but quickly deepened. His hand slid to your jaw, thumb brushing your skin as he pulled you closer. Your fingers tangled in his hair, his name escaping your lips between kisses that left you breathless.

"God, you’re unreal," he muttered against your mouth, his voice tinged with awe.

"You talk too much," you replied, pulling him back in with a teasing tug at his bottom lip.

The laughter between you dissolved into something deeper, more desperate, as the weight of the moment took hold. His hands found your waist, tugging you onto his lap with a gentle yet determined pull. Your legs straddled his hips, and he groaned softly as your bodies pressed together.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" he asked, his forehead resting against yours.

"I might have an idea," you whispered, rolling your hips against him, eliciting a low curse from his lips.

When he nears you he feels flames.

The tension snapped as his hands slipped beneath the hem of your shirt, the warmth of his palms igniting a trail of fire across your skin. Clothes fell away piece by piece, discarded carelessly onto the floor as his kisses traced down your neck, your collarbone, each touch deliberate and intoxicating.

"You’re beautiful," he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear.

"So are you," you replied, running your fingers down his chest, savoring the way he shivered beneath your touch.

The tenderness of his touch was almost overwhelming, and you felt yourself melting into his arms as he deepened the kiss again.

Time seemed to blur as passion consumed you both, the world outside forgotten. The quiet sighs and gasps of pleasure filled the room, an intimate symphony that spoke of trust, desire, and love.

Yoongi’s hands began to roam over your body, tracing curves and contours with an intimacy that left you breathless. His fingers grazed over the swell of your breasts, sending a jolt of electricity through you before moving lower to tease at the hem of your clothes.

With a gentle tug, Yoongi drew your shirt up over your head, exposing the soft skin beneath to his hungry gaze. His eyes feasted on the sight of you, drinking in every detail as he leaned in to press kisses along the curve of your neck and shoulder.

The air was thick with tension as Yoongi’s hands worked to undo the buttons on his own shirt, revealing a chest chiseled from years of dedication to music and performance. You couldn’t help but reach out and touch him, tracing patterns over his skin that left him gasping with pleasure.

Yoongi’s hands grasped your hips, he gently pulled you closer to the edge of the bed, his eyes locked onto yours with a fierce intensity. His lips danced across the curve of your stomach, as he made his way lower. With each kiss, his touch grew more intimate, more sensual, until finally he reached the apex of your thighs.

Yoongi’s fingers parted your legs, exposing the tender flesh beneath to his hungry gaze. For a moment, he simply looked at you, drinking in the sight of your most intimate self. Then, with a slow smile spreading across his face, he leaned in and pressed his lips to the soft skin.

The first touch of his tongue sent sparks flying through you – it was like being electrified from within.

Yoongi’s mouth moved with a gentleness, tasting and savoring every inch of you as if you were a delicacy to be devoured. The sensations were almost too much to bear – it was like being consumed by a wildfire that threatened to engulf everything in its path.

His tongue was exploring places you could never reach.

He shed his pants and underwear in one smooth motion, climbing on top of your trembling body.

“ssibal…-” you looked into his eyes to see what made him say that, only for him to–

"I don’t have one." He sighed when he realised he was missing something, painfully ruining this moment. But he could never ruin it in your eyes.

"I trust you." You smiled sweetly, offering your mind, body and soul to him. Yoongi’s eyes locked onto yours, a mix of surprise and gratitude flashed across his face.

"Are you sure?" He had been prepared for hesitation, for doubts, but instead, you offered him your unwavering trust. You nodded silently, still smiling.

Yoongi leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, tender kiss. The warmth of his breath mingled with yours as he whispered,

"I’ll be careful, I promise."

He positioned himself between your legs, the tip of his erection teasing your entrance, Yoongi’s eyes never left yours. He pressed his length against your lips and with delicate carefulness he coated himself with your juices. He waited for the slightest nod, the smallest indication that you were ready. And when it came, he slowly began to push inside, his movements deliberate and controlled.

It took everything in him to not start trusting in you with brutal tempo in you because that’s how good you felt wrapped around him.

The initial stretch was almost too much to bear – it was like being filled to the brim with an exquisite tension. But as Yoongi’s body merged with yours, the sensations began to shift and evolve. The pain gave way to pleasure, and the pleasure grew with each sharp movement of his hips. He growled and hissed and your moans turned him on even more.

The tremors turned into shudders and the gasps turned into moans – he increased his pace. His hips moved in time with the rhythm of your heartbeat, drawing out every last drop of pleasure until you were nothing more than a quivering mess of nerve endings.

It was like being lost in a stormy sea with no anchor or shore in sight – but together; you found solace; found home; found each other.

His eyes were closed, his face contorted in a mixture of ecstasy and effort, as he chased the release that seemed to be hovering just out of reach. Your hands moved to his waist, guiding him to rock into you deeper and harder.

Your nails dug into his skin, leaving tiny marks that would remain long after the moment had passed. But Yoongi didn’t flinch, didn’t even notice – he was too far gone, too lost in the depths of your body. His pelvis was rubbing on yours and you could not help but feel the sensation forming into a tied knot that needed to be untangled or you would go crazy.

Yoongi’s body began to tense, his movements becoming more erratic and urgent, you knew that he was close.

"You’re mine," he whispered, his voice low and husky with emotion. "You’re mine now."

That’s all it took for the knot to snap in you and with a bite into his shoulder, you came undone, a crying mess under him.

His eyes snapped open, locking onto yours with a fierce intensity as he gritted his teeth, fighting to hold on for just a moment longer.

But it was no use. With a strangled cry, Yoongi’s body arched backwards, his hips jerking forwards as he reached the peak of his release. You felt a surge of warmth as he pulled out of you, his cock pulsing in his hand as he erupted onto your belly.

The first jet of cum hit your skin like a shockwave, sending shivers coursing through your body. You felt it spread across your abdomen, warm and sticky and utterly intimate.

As the last drops of cum fell onto your skin, Yoongi collapsed forwards, his chest heaving with exertion. He lay there for a moment, his face buried in the crook of your neck, as you both struggled to catch your breath.

Finally, he raised himself up onto elbows, gazing down at the mess he had made on your belly. A slow smile spread across his face as he reached out to touch the sticky fluid, rubbing it into your skin with gentle fingers.

"Yoongi?"

"Hmm?" he murmured sleepily, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on your back.

"I love you," you whispered, the words falling easily from your lips.

2017 to 2018 Days turned into nights, and with each passing moment, the magic of your connection deepened. Your lips met often, bodies intertwined, and those three precious words were whispered underneath the moonlight as often as you two could.

You decided to celebrate your one-year anniversary in London, a night full of love.

Yoongi’s hand didn’t leave yours all night, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as if grounding himself in your presence.

"Can you believe it’s been a year?" you ask, your eyes sparkling.

"I can," he says, his voice soft. "Because every day with you feels like a lifetime."

Your cheeks flush, and you squeeze his hand. "You’re too sweet, Min Yoongi."

But the night takes a dark turn as you leave the restaurant. Paparazzi swarm, cameras flashing, voices shouting. In the chaos, Yoongi spots a figure across the rain-slicked street. The rain obscures his vision, but something about the silhouette feels… wrong.

He shakes it off, focusing on getting you home, and carelessly you chose to ignore it—a decision that would haunt him.

That night, passion ignited in your old London home, you love made as if it were the last time. Little did you know, a dark foreboding loomed on the horizon.

As the chliché saying goes, nothing lasts forever.

When you leave for your band’s tour, the distance is unbearable. You talk on the phone every night, his voice your anchor, but it’s not enough. The ache of being apart lingers, growing heavier with each passing day. On both sides. Parting was always hardest. This time, however, marked the start of your fall.

And then, he enters the picture.

As Yoongi scrolled through social media on his phone, he came across a tagged photo that made his stomach twist. There you were, laughing beside Jimin, your hand casually brushing against his arm as the two of you posed in front of Sleeping Beauty’s Castle.

He could almost hear your laughter, see the way your eyes crinkled with joy—only it wasn’t him standing beside you.

"It was just a coincidence," Jimin claims, showing up in America at the same hotel as you. But Yoongi knows better. His coincidental encounter with you in America seemed anything but accidental. He’s seen the way Jimin looks at you, the longing in his eyes.

"Yoongi-hyung," Namjoon’s voice broke through his haze. "Put the phone down. You’ll drive yourself insane."

Confrontation is inevitable.

"You think I don’t see what you’re doing?" Yoongi snaps, his voice low and venomous. Of course God would want to take his only joy from his life. Of course he cannot be blessed for once.

"I’m not doing anything," Jimin counters, his tone infuriatingly calm. "I was being her friend when you could not. If I could find the time, you could have too–"

He wanted to snap back, but what was the point? The damage had already been done.

"It has been a tough few weeks, are you okay?" Corden said.

You smiled, radiant as ever.

"You know what? I’m good–"

"It’s been incredible. The fans have been so supportive, and we’re having the time of our lives."

"Rumour has it, it’s not only fans being supportive." James wiggled his eyebrows. "Care to comment on the whispers about you and a certain someone?"

Yoongi’s breath hitched as the camera panned to you. Your smile faltered for the briefest moment before you recovered.

"I think people love to speculate, and we like to keep things private" you said, brushing it off with practiced ease.

Beside you, your bandmate chuckled, your hand subtly resting on the armrest of your chair.

And he failed to interpret that the only heart you wish to capture again and again, is his. The only man you wish to keep to yourself is –him. Just as he failed to pick up the phone when you were at your lowest.

The fluorescent lights flickered above you as you stood backstage, feeling the overwhelming weight of the crowd’s anticipation pressing in on you. The roar of their excitement is deafening, but all you hear is the pounding of your own heart. Each beat feels like it’s getting louder, faster, harder to control.

You swallow, the taste of metal in the back of your throat. Your hands shake as you grip the edge of the dressing room table, trying to steady yourself. But it’s no use.

The room seems to close in on you, the walls constricting tighter and tighter with each breath. Panic rises in your chest, hot and suffocating. Your vision blurs, and for a moment, you’re sure you’re about to collapse.

"Y/N?" A voice cuts through the haze. It's one of your bandmates, her face full of concern, but it feels miles away. The world spins, and you stagger back, struggling to breathe. Your mind races to find a way out of this suffocating space, but the only thing you can focus on is the crushing weight of your anxiety.

You stumble towards the door, reaching for your phone, hoping to see his name on the screen. Min Yoongi. You need him. You need to hear his voice, to feel the calmness he brings, even if it’s just through a message.

Your hands tremble as you dial his number, the seconds dragging on like hours. The call goes to voicemail. You leave a message, your voice trembling as you speak.

"Yoongi… please. I don’t know what to do… I feel like I can’t breathe. I just need to hear your voice. Please pick up."

But he never did. Out of pettiness. And he might never know that this was the moment your heart drifted away from his for some time.

“Jimin-sshi?” 

The fight escalates, tearing apart the fragile threads of trust between you and Yoongi. Miscommunication piles on top of jealousy, and in his fear of losing you, Yoongi does the unthinkable—he pushes you away.

"You think this is fucking a joke?" Yoongi’s voice is low, biting with venom as he steps forward, closing the gap between them.

Jimin’s jaw tightens, and he crosses his arms over his chest, his expression unreadable, though the slight twitch in his fingers betrays his calm facade.

"What the hell are you talking about again?" he says, his voice a mix of frustration and confusion.

Yoongi’s eyes burn with fury. "You think I didn’t see it? The way you’ve been with her. The way you look at her like you’re already claiming her for yourself."

Jimin scoffs, shaking his head. "Yoongi, you really don’t get it, do you? She’s been hurting. She’s been lost, and you—" He pauses, his voice catching for just a moment before continuing, "You weren’t there for her when she needed you. I was. I didn’t do anything wrong."

"You think that she’d choose you over me?" A bitter laugh escapes Yoongi’s lips, and he steps closer, his presence a looming shadow.

"She already did, Hyung." Well, that was unnecessary.

He shoves Jimin with a brutal force, sending him stumbling back. Jimin’s eyes flash with fury, and he retaliates instantly, swinging his fist at Yoongi’s face.

The punch lands with a sickening thud, but Yoongi barely flinches. His own fist flies in retaliation, catching Jimin across the jaw. The force sends Jimin to the ground, but he’s quick to rise, wiping the blood from his lip, a crazed fire burning in his eyes.

"You don’t get to decide who she loves or is friends with," Jimin snarls, launching himself at Yoongi once again.

Yoongi doesn’t back down. He meets Jimin’s attack head-on, throwing another punch that lands square on Jimin’s chest. The impact knocks the wind out of him, but Jimin is relentless. He swings again, this time landing a punch to Yoongi’s ribs, causing him to gasp for air.

The room fills with the sound of grunting, the sharp crack of fists meeting flesh, as the two men collide in a brutal dance. Neither one willing to back down, neither one willing to give up on the one person they both thought they could have.

The fight rages on, fueled by years of unspoken feelings, regret, and the desperation to possess something they once had. Neither one of them can stop. Not yet.

Yoongi’s vision blurs from the pain, but all he can see is the face of the woman they both love. The woman he pushed away, the woman he thought he’d never lose.

He throws another punch. And another. Until, finally, exhaustion takes over and both of them collapse, panting, bloodied, and bruised.

They lie there, staring at the ceiling, the quiet after the storm heavy between them. There are no words, no apologies. Just the silent understanding that this fight isn’t over. Not by a long shot.

"She needed someone, she needed a friend, and I was there. You can’t even face the reality of what you did, Hyung."

Yoongi paces back and forth, the usual calmness in his movements replaced by something frantic, desperate.

You can feel the air between you both crackling with the weight of unspoken things.

"You don’t understand," Yoongi mutters, voice tight with strain. His hands grip his hair, his frustration leaking out in short bursts of breath. "I’m trying to protect us. From everything. From him."

You watch him, trying to process the words as they tumble out, but nothing makes sense. "Protect us?" you repeat, the disbelief clear in your voice. "You’ve been pushing me away, Yoongi. For months. And for what? Because you’re scared of my friendship with Jimin?"

Yoongi halts in his tracks, fists clenching at his sides. His gaze meets yours, but there's no anger in it—only confusion and something darker, something that cuts deeper than anything you’ve seen before.

"I’m not scared," he snaps, though you can hear the lie. "I saw the way he looked at you. I saw how he’s been around you. I don’t need to be blind to know what’s happening."

"You’re the one who’s been blind," you respond, your voice shaking with the weight of your words.

Truth to be told, Min Yoongi thought that pushing you away would be the best decision in protecting his heart and mind. That is, he desperately hoped that it would hurt less if you left first. But now he does not know what to do.

"I needed you, Yoongi."

"I'm sorry."

You want to tell him that whatever he thinks, it isn’t true, that you never stopped loving him, but how could you? When he pushed you away, when he let his insecurities dictate his actions? The silence between you grows, each second feeling like an eternity.

Finally, you whisper, your voice barely audible.

"Maybe we should give each other some space."

Yoongi’s face pales at the words, as if they were a physical blow. Even though he already pushed you away, even though you two have already ended before you managed to try and heal yourself, and even though he still loves you — he is gonna let you go.

"Space?" His voice is strained, as though he’s trying to make sense of what just left your lips. "Is that what you want?" He repeats the question as if testing the words, seeing if they fit in this reality, this broken moment.

"I need to figure out who I am without this... without all this noise,-" you say, the words tasting foreign on your tongue.

"-Maybe we both do."

2019 Without thinking, his hands slam down onto the keys of the piano, thinking of it again.

The sound is discordant, jarring, like a scream in the silence of the room. It’s harsh, unrefined, the music spilling out of him with no intention of harmony. The notes clash together, offbeat and uneven, like the storm of emotions swirling in his chest.

He doesn’t stop.

His fingers move in frantic, erratic motions, slamming onto the keys with no care for melody, only for release. The piano groans beneath the violent force of his hands, its strings crying out in protest as Yoongi pours all of his frustration, his anger, his grief into the sound.

Each strike of the keys feels like a punch to the gut, a way to force his emotions into the open. The rhythm is chaotic, wild, as if he’s trying to chase away the ghosts that haunt him, the ghosts of regret and loss, of the one person he never should have let go.

The music is raw and broken, just like him.

Yoongi’s hands move faster, harder, his whole body tensing with each harsh note. His breath comes in ragged bursts, chest rising and falling with the violent rhythm of his actions. He feels the sweat on his brow, his heart racing, the jagged melody tearing at his insides, but it’s the only thing that feels real right now.

His fingers slip on the keys, his palm knocking against them in a way that sends a sharp, almost painful dissonance through the air. The piano groans again, as if asking him to stop, but Yoongi doesn’t. He can’t.

The sound is deafening, and yet, the silence inside him grows louder.

The piano sits there in the aftermath, the dissonant notes hanging in the air, a reminder of all the pain he cannot escape. Yoongi stares at the keys, his eyes unfocused, feeling like he’s just shattered every last piece of himself in the name of something he doesn’t know how to fix.

It’s too late for redemption.

When he realised the extent of his folly, it was too late. Yoongi did not take the word space as literally as you would. You were his star, so how come you managed to fade in his orbit so quickly he could not stop it. You vanished from his life, severing all ties, blocking his number, and disappearing from social media. Desperation to reach you met barriers, and Jimin, the one who was there after everything, found a place in your heart, shattering his.

The messages, the calls—he’s done it all. He’s searched for any sign of you, clinging to the faintest hope that maybe, just maybe, you’ll answer. But each time, it’s the same. Your name is blocked. Your presence erased.

His phone lies in his hand, screen glowing with another failed attempt to contact you. He drops it onto the table, the sound of it hitting the wood sharp in the otherwise silent room.

"She’s gone," he mutters to himself, barely able to hear his own voice. "She’s gone, and it’s my fault."

The door to his mental space swing open unexpectedly, and in walks Jimin, the last person Yoongi wants to think of right now.

"You’re still trying?" Jimin’s voice cuts through the air, and Yoongi looks up, his face pale, eyes darkened with exhaustion. Yoongi has never been seen like this—so completely defeated.

"I need to talk to her," Yoongi says, his words shaky. "I need to fix this."

Jimin steps forward, a small, almost pitying smile on his face. "You don’t get it, do you? You already lost her, Yoongi. And honestly, you don’t deserve another chance."

The words hit Yoongi harder than he expected, the weight of Jimin’s words sinking deep. His jaw tightens as he stands up, his voice low but raw. "What the hell are you talking about? You don’t know anything."

Jimin doesn’t flinch, his venom directed to poison Yoongi's mind with a coldness that makes his stomach twist. "I know everything," Jimin replies softly. "I’ve seen how you treated her. How you pushed her away. How you let your jealousy and your insecurities ruin something beautiful."

Yoongi’s fists clench, the anger simmering just below the surface, but before he can snap back, and Jimin continues.

"After all the shit you put her through, that she won’t even admit out loud, because she loves you that much. But I’m the one who’s been there for her. I’m the one she turned to when you were too blind to see her pain. I’m the one who stayed when you let her slip away." Jimin’s eyes narrow, and for a moment, it’s as if he’s daring Yoongi to argue with him.

"Get out of my fucking head!" He shouted.

Yoongi feels the sharp sting of truth in those words, but he’s not ready to give up yet. "She won’t stay with you," he says, trying to mask his pain with defiance. "She’s not yours to have."

Jimin’s tone is colder than Yoongi’s ever heard it. "I’m not trying to steal her from you, Yoongi. I’m not the one who messed this up. But I’m not going to let you break her anymore, either–"

"Stop!" He needs block him out somehow.

"You had your fucking chance."

You let him get into your heart and that broke him.

"STOP!"

Silence. He's gone.

But all Yoongi's mind resonated with, all he heard, was that you love him. Despite everything. He wanted to hold onto that. He needed to hold onto that.

Yoongi stands in the middle of the room, his fingers gripping the edges of the polaroid picture. The image in his hand is of you, the moment captured so perfectly—your smile, bright and carefree, as if the world had no weight. He can almost hear the laughter between the two of you, that warmth in your voice, the light in your eyes that once made him feel like he was home.

But now it feels like a cruel reminder. A shard of something he can’t touch anymore, something he broke.

His breath catches in his throat as his eyes scan the photo once more, but it’s too much. The memories flood back—the quiet moments, the shared silences, the warmth of your skin against his, the sweetness of your words. He can’t breathe. The pain is suffocating.

The room is dim, the only light coming from the weak glow of the bathroom lamp. Yoongi stares down at the polaroid, his thumb brushing lightly across your image, tracing the edge of your face, as though trying to hold on to the last piece of you that he has.

But he can’t.

His hand clenches around the photo, the corners crumpling slightly as the tension builds in his chest. His eyes flicker to the bathtub in the corner of the room, an empty vessel, its porcelain surface cold and lifeless. Without a second thought, he walks over and places the photo gently on the edge, like a sacrificial offering, before reaching for the lighter in his pocket.

The flick of the flame is harsh in the stillness. The flame dances briefly, casting flickering shadows on the walls before it touches the edge of the picture. Yoongi watches with a quiet intensity as the photo begins to burn, the flames curling along the edges, eating away at the image of you with a cruel hunger. The smell of burning paper fills the room, bitter and heavy.

Yoongi doesn’t move, not at first. He watches as the polaroid warps, the edges curling, the picture’s colors bleeding into the smoke. The flame licks at the photo, devouring your face, your smile, until all that’s left is ashes, falling softly into the empty tub. He feels nothing, not relief, not catharsis—just emptiness.

The fire has consumed everything, leaving nothing behind but the remnants of what once was.

Yoongi stares at the ashes in the tub, a hollow ache in his chest.

Through trials and tribulations, one truth remains etched in his soul: he loved you deeply. In the depths of his heart, he believes that your love is irreplaceable, a bond that refuses to be extinguished.

He remembers your words, the quiet conviction in your voice when you’d talked about. A single wish. A tiny action changing everything.

Did it?

Today would mark your third anniversary. That’s how long he had to endure life without you. 

The flutter of the phone in his hand feels almost like the beat of wings. The fragile, trembling wings of something impossibly delicate—something that could undo the years of silence, the years of regret, with a single choice.

A single touch.

The resonating sound of his phone ringing pulls Yoongi from his dark thoughts. He picks it up, the vibrations of his heart echoing in his fingertips as the number flashes across the screen.

Your name.

His breath catches in his throat as his thumb hovers over the answer button. His mind races—What does this mean? Why now? He’s been waiting for this moment for so long, and yet, part of him is afraid to hear what you’ll say. He can’t remember the last time he felt this alive—and terrified—at the same time. The ringing continues, each second dragging on as his thoughts spiral in a mix of confusion and fear. He wants to answer it, to finally hear your voice, but there's a knot in his throat, choking him.

After everything you have been through...

He closes his eyes, the images of you flashing before him—your smile, your laughter, the way your presence seemed to light up his world.

He truly loved you.

He could still hear the soft, melodic sound of your voice in his ear, feel the warmth of your skin against his. Every moment with you felt like a dream. He thought he had forever. He thought you were his. But then he let his insecurities and pride drive a wedge between you, letting you go when he should have held on tighter.

You were the sun.

The ache in his chest intensifies, the memories more vivid now—your laughter ringing through the air, filling him with warmth and joy. The way you would look at him, the way you’d always know how to make him feel like the only person in the room. 

A faded star in his orbit he wished to return to the sky.

Your love had been a light, cutting through the darkness that always seemed to surround him. And he’d selfishly thrown it away.

He loved your smile. He loved your laugh.

It was the simplest things that he misses the most—your warmth, the way you made him feel alive.

He loved you so much.

He never said it enough. Never showed it enough. The truth he’s now facing is that he could never have loved you more. The regret, the pain—it gnaws at him, a constant reminder of his failure.

He will never forgive himself for letting you go.

He presses a hand to his chest, as if to silence the ache, the guilt that claws at his insides. He’d thought he was protecting himself. He thought pushing you away would keep him from getting hurt. But all it did was destroy everything.

But deeply in his heart you and he knows you belong together.

He can feel it in his bones. There’s no one else. There never will be.

We belong together, love.

His finger trembles as he swipes the screen.

"Min Yoongi, I can’t believe we are finally meeting. Taehyung’s told me a lot about you."

The wings of the butterfly, once fragile and uncertain, have begun to beat, and Yoongi can feel the world shifting in ways he never thought possible.

Like a night butterfly to a flame.

"He has, huh?"

©pennyellee 2018-2025. please do not repost

Don't be a silent reader, let's be friends chummers! ♥

lots of love, p.

[hollyhomburg]

Before I Leave You (Pt.82)

(Sneak Peek)(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: The first beach day of the season prompts both You and Tae to talk through some of your sadness. This time, you do something about it. "You’re so gentle. I don’t think you understand it.”

Tags: Trans! Tae, Dysphoria, talks of jealousy and love, top surgery/boob jobs, medical talk, talk of weight gain, body insecurity, body dysmorphia, boobs, fingering, mild dirty talk, voyeurism, Talks of depression, mention of seizures but no seizures today, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, talk of marriage and wedding rings, mentions of past physical abuse, mentions of ptsd, scars, this is the beach episode that all anime's have,

W/c: 16.0k

A/n: ahhhh here we are! i didn't expect the next part to take me this long- but i guess that's what happens when you try to go to a bts concert and go to college! this chapter is a bit heftier than usual! but that was because i couldn't shut up about tae (is anyone really suprised?) Please give me some love! The title of this chapter is Maraschino cherry

Previous part- Masterlist - First part

Hobi likes to pick the roses in the early morning, right as he has his first cup of coffee.

Someone else inside is getting you yours, or maybe you and Tae are changing for the pack's beach day. You both looked sleepy and draped all over each other when Hobi last saw you, trailing after Jin who was already griping about the UV index as Tae led you in the direction of the dressing room to pick out your bikini for the day.

His careful fingers are mindful of thorns as he snips them free of the bush. Noodle meows from around his ankles guarding the alpha’s coffee (and occasionally sneaking sips. Especially if Hobi's used half and half). His baby blue cup rests in the grass slightly overgrown because Hobi is ever mindful of the pollinators.

He has a few blooms in his hands, mainly the pink ones.

Hobi offers one to Noodle, crouching on creaky knees, letting the cat smell. Pushing his whiskers past the first row of petals. Purring loudly.  

“What do you say Nu? Should we head inside and see if the girls like them?”

The door creeks and Hobi's coffee cup dangles from one pinky, empty. Three brightly colored beach bags wait by the door almost stopping Hobi from being able to open it. They're already piled high with towels, chip bags, and enough sunscreen to cover a small parking lot. Your and Tae's dresses are draped over the back of the couch, colorful and long patchwork spilling half onto the floor. A river of multi-colored floral squares.

Hobi can be forgiven for not immediately realizing what he’s watching.

You’re up on the counter and the bikini you wear is small, a bit too small. The red string at the back is tied in a bow. One of Tae's hands tangles in it. Winding the red strand over her knuckles, back and forth between her fingers. Your bare back and your dimples are on display- distracting Hobi from what's going on at your front.

There’s just a lot of skin is all and not much clothes. Hobi can handle it. Like a gentleman. He restrains his imagination. Reminding himself that he's allowed to look, that he's not being creepy. But still- he's a little happy that Tae seems to be too busy whispering something to you from between your legs to notice Hobi's staring or else he'd surely surrender himself for a morning of teasing.

She's got one hand on your hip, digging into the alluring cleft where hip meets torso and the other at your front concealed by your bodies. Your scar shines silvery. Hobi hardly notices it.

You’d think he’d be used to it- you and Tae lounging around in little to nothing but you still take his breath away. Weather it's Tae's gauzy collection of night dresses, or your spread of mini sleep shorts- all of it tortures him (hobi is not alone in this, the rest of the pack commiserates on the daily about you and tae). But the mini bikini seems extra extra mini today. The thread-narrow straps and small red triangles do little to conceal your body and how it swells.

Your milk had tapered off after the first few weeks but the swelling has been slow to go. That coupled with a little bit of post-heat indulgence and doting has left your body round and supple in a way that the Alpha's just devour. Hobi knows you've complained more than once about the newfound back aches and he sympathizes he really does but-

But fuck.

You sort of look like something off the cover of one of those vintage Playboy magazines that Tae pretends she likes for 'aesthetic reasons'. Not that Hobi judges. Hobi understands why tae's a little obsessed with them. Your chest is sort of a wet dream.

The whole pack is alot obsessed with them.

Hobi thinks you're just kissing until You tip your head back and moan, and he almost trips over the corner of the carpet.

“Oh? You're-” Hobi's throat goes dry.

Tae picks her head up from where it was buried in your hair and laughs. Showing her canines, eyes bright and mischievous.

Her hand keeps moving between your thighs, when you try to close your legs, Tae's other hand grabs your knee, pushing them to stay open. She does it like she's hardly noticing you squirming away, hardly noticing your sudden shyness.

It's nothing Hobi hasn't seen before. This kind of thing is sort of routine for the pack (yesterday he found Jungkook and Yoongi fucking in the sunroom, and the morning before that hobi walked in on Jimin and namjoon having some sort of staring match as Jin showered both of them hard and pretending they weren't. And the day before that Tae had walked in on you and Hobi and Yoongi being…a little bit ridiculous on the front porch. Some all too public heavy petting that the pack alpha and pack omega would surely disapprove of.

It's not the first time hobi has kept your secrets.

The last time Hobi saw Tae finger you, you were at the kitchen table (three mornings ago) but Hobi can't say it's not a welcome surprise. Your squirming is all you can do to keep the pack's pawing at bay when you're like this.

Tae grins, Drinking in Hobi's blush like it's strawberry lemonade. She doesn’t slow her pace at all. Two fingers or three? Her hand works in between your tights as you sag against her front, boneless. Giving in to the fact that you have an audience and Tae doesn't have any plans of stopping. Her wrist crooks to find the angle that makes your toes curl and Hobi sees it on your face the moment she finds that little spot that makes you clench extra hard.

Upstairs, Jungkook laughs loudly. Someone or something crashes into a door or a wall hard enough to make the windows in the kitchen rattle. Probably Jimin and Jungkook chasing each other around, zoomies that are sure to get worse when you get to the beach.

“Guys” Jin’s stressed tone sounds from upstairs and Namjoon’s deep baritone says something in response. Too low to hear. Distracting the pack omega so that the pups can be pups.

Hobi smirks, kicking a hip up against the counter after refilling his coffee. Settling in to watch. The roses are forgotten about, discarded on the counter where they glimmer, going withy.

Hobi sips his coffee. Making eye contact with you over Tae's shoulder. And you blush furiously at the blatant way his eyes flicker from your face to your chest to between your legs.

"Do you-" you breathe heavily, cheek resting against Tae's arm, scrambling to paw at her hand when she crooks her fingers a little deeper, petting insistently in and in. Your bikini bottom is pushed to the side, leaving a little trickle of slick on the counter. The dewy and delicious parts of you are hardly hidden by Tae's wrist. A delighted growl-pur builds in hobi's chest at the sight.

"Do you have to watch?" Your voice goes breath as Tae changes the angle of her hand and you throw your head back, but Hobi doesn't even blink.

"I'm quite enjoying my view thank you very much." He teases.

Coming Saturday April 5th at 5pm EST (Time Zone Adjustments Below)

[anthonys237thfreckle]

‘Let You Break My Heart Again’ - Javier ‘Javi’ x Kate Carter & F! reader (angst songfic)

I WAS LISTENING TO LAUFEY ON REPEAT AND REMINDED OF MY HIGH SCHOOL LOVE TRIANGLE SO WHY NOT WRITE A FIC ABOUT IT!!! HERE YOU GO!

part two

prompt: your heart belonged to javi, but his belonged to kate.

TW: unrequited love, angst, crying, swearing, mentions of death, suicidal thoughts (happens thrice), loss of appetite more than once, breakdowns, mention of throwing up.

Feeling kind of sick tonight

All I've had is coffee and leftover pie..

Today was just the worst. Shitty day at work, your in-charge was being a sweetheart to everyone except you, it’s like the whole world was playing a cruel joke on you today.

With no will to eat, you mindlessly looked in your fridge, the cool air and cool glow hitting your skin. Your eyes skimmed through something to hopefully make your feel better, and your eyes landed on a small glass Tupperware.

Peach cobbler pie.

You sighed, taking it out of the fridge and setting it on the counter, brewing some black coffee. The paperwork you had been procrastinating on started to pile up, and you had some weather reports due tomorrow. You needed the bitter drug, the pie there to balance the taste with its tender sweetness.

You were tender once; you were sweet once…

It’s no wonder why…

Life became hard and bitter once you moved away.

Well, did you have a reason to stay?

After that EF5, after holding onto Kate in that underpass for dear life, making sure she didn’t get sucked into that twister, Javi found you two and called the cops to help you both out.

Thing is, you always knew Javi had a thing for Kate. Even when she was dating Jeb, you saw the way he looked at her, the same way you’d look at him. And Kate didn’t ignore those looks of his, nor did she not notice them…

Ooh, still you take up all my mind…

You almost confided in Addy or Praveen about your feelings. You loved Javier. Ever since you both got super close in college. Ever since he’d always treat you like a good friend would. You ran on this high, you chased to be in his line of sight, craved his attention… You were soft, you were tender, you were sweet. You wanted to be it all, for him.

I don't even think that you care like I do

You were known as the ‘ray of sunshine’ or the ‘sweetheart’ in your friend group because you were just so nice. Mostly in the hopes of wooing Javier whenever you could. Make him think what it would be like to date you. Part of you loved to see his smile, loved the ‘thank you’s he’d give you, collecting them like shiny rocks. You usually found them on your morning walks, giving one to Javi whenever you thought he’d like them. But he just put them in his bag and forgot about them a few days later.

I should stop, heaven knows I've tried…

Days in college were spent fantasizing about him; about the way his arms would feel around you. He rarely hugged you. 3 times, to be exact - on his birthday, the day you both passed your finals, and when he found you were okay after the EF5. You couldn’t help but want to call him, text him, but what would you say?

And if he really wanted to talk to you, why didn’t he already? It’s been 5 years since you both have exchanged a word. 5 years since you two have seen each other’s faces. you had changed since college, no doubt. your hair was different; layered. Your style changed a little bit too, you wore makeup to work, in the hopes of being treated differently. You looked prettier with makeup on, anyways. Just a little highlighter, mascara, blush… nothing too overboard. Part of you dolled yourself up in the hopes of running into Javi in the streets somehow.

‘I should stop�� you thought to yourself as you got ready one day for work. You stared at your reflection, not knowing what you were looking for. Sighing, you finished up your makeup, surrendering to beautification, heading off to work.

“Someone’s here for you in the conference room” a co-worker told you. You gave them a confused look, walking to the conference room, to meet a familiar mop of curly hair - a lot shorter now, and the man you loved in a suit. Javier Rivera.

Of course he convinced you to come back to chasing storms. Of course he said it’ll be almost like the old times. Of course Kate was coming too.

You wanted to say no, you wanted to say you couldn’t, but he came all the way to look for you; once tender and sweet. The prospect of someone looking for you was something you dreamed of since you were an angsty teen. The prospect of someone caring about you enough to come back…

At least you tried to decline.

One day, I will stop falling in love with you

Some day, someone will like me like I like you…

The drive to Oklahoma was meant to be awkward. It meant to be tense. It meant to be hard on Javi. To make him feel bad. For you to act all pouty and mean just because you could. Just so you could if not tell, show him how hurt you were when he just disappeared.

But when he started to smile, crack jokes, retell stories, you couldn’t help but be nice in return. The rushing feelings came back, and for a moment, you forgot about Kate. You forgot about life being bitter and hard. All you remembered was being sweet and tender, because with Javi, it was familiar. It was natural. It felt like home.

Every soft look from Javi made you fall harder for him. To be treated like he once did to you. Friends. Best friends.

You both drove to Oklahoma, which wasn’t too far exactly, and he offered if you wanted to go out for dinner with him and Kate.

You wanted to be hard and bitter again.

As you and Javi went into a local diner near a motel, you both saw Kate sitting in a booth, waving to you. Or so you thought - she was looking Javi in the eye, who had a grin on his face. He sat in the booth with Kate, opposite to you. They both smiled at each other, and you wanted to be swallowed by the same EF5 your friends left in, because maybe, just maybe, Javi would have cared more about you if you were dead.

Until then, I'll drink my coffee, eat my pie

Pretend that we are more than friends…

“… just some coffee and peach cobbler pie, please” you flashed the waiter a warm, tired smile. You didn’t look at Javi or Kate, rather traced the wooden table, stared out the window, faked a yawn, bounced your leg.. of course they didn’t say anything to you. They had their little side conversation.

As your face was turned a 90 degree angle from the two, from the corner of your eye, you saw Kate squeeze Javi’s bicep. You downed a mouthful of coffee, coughing after. Javi handed you a tissue, not sparing you a glance as he laughed at something Kate said.

Suddenly you have no appetite.

Then, of course, I'll let you break my heart again

You put your head down on the table, Kate glanced at the mop of hair on the table

“Hey, you doin’ okay?” she asked softly, Javi looked at you for the first time during dinner.

“Do you feel sick?” He asked brows knitting in concern.

You shot up, rubbing your eyes. “Yeah, this coffee made me feel sick.” Javi looked at your basically untouched pie, but empty cup of coffee, and back into your rosy eyes.

“Get some rest, yeah?” Kate suggested. Javi nodded. You sighed.

“Yeah, okay. Goodnight, you two” you rubbed your face, giving them a small wave. They both smiled softly, waving back.

As you reached the exit, you looked over your shoulder as much as you didn’t want to, and saw the two smiling and laughing again.

With a heavy heart, you checked into your motel, took a sip of water to calm your body down, and with one glance in the mirror, you broke down; crying yourself to sleep, with tears staining your face and your pillows, the land of rest took you in for the night.

I'm just tryna understand what I am to you

More than songs, we've exchanged

Midnight calls, sunset views

Over the next few days, you spent them chasing with Storm Par. Of couse Javi went with Kate. She had more genius than you did, apparently, even though you two were both equally smart.

Javi talked to you that morning, his charming grin greeting you along with the early morning sun.

“Dandy weather, yeah?” he nudged you, trying to get you to cheer up. You rewarded his efforts with a small, half hearted smile.

You both had a pretty genuine chat, just like in college, until Kate joined you two. Then again, you were invisible. And the tension between the two was as strong as a supercell. You were obviously hurt, because your time in college was so much… richer. Late at night after curfew, you two would sneak out because you two were the only ones up for that kinda stuff. You’d go to the roof, stay up there talking all night then watch the sunrise together. Now, the only one he orbited was Kate, Kate, Kate.

Then, it was time to chase.

You paired up with Scott instead, being a little emotionless that day, and gave him a respectful nod of acknowledgement. The chase was silent apart from the orders coming from the radio. No conversation was initiated - you didn’t wanna have another breakdown.

For the first chase, which failed because Kate had a PTSD attack, you saw Javi comfort her after they got back to the motel; The sky was now dark, every storm chaser had a bonfire up, the atmosphere was enough to heal Kate alone, but of course, Javi was there for her too.

Your heart clenched. You remembered how hard you cried last night, almost suffocating against the sheets many times. The room was dull, taunting, and the only thing who could have helped you in that moment was Javi. But why would he see your pain and not Kate’s first?

You all gathered around the bonfire - the Storm Par crew, some other group called the Tornado Wranglers, some local chasers and what not. You saw the tall, orange fire. It looked inviting. Your breathing stilled, your body relaxed, your mind wandered.

You were disassociating, looking at everything from the 3rd person POV, the chasers in a circle around the fire, Kate and Javi next to each other a few seats away from you, talking like normal. You kept saying Javi’s name, yelling it, screaming it, but no matter what you did, he didn’t even spare you a glance. So you looked behind, turning around, and saw the fire. Without a second glance at him, without thinking, you walked into the warm, welcoming flames, feeling it consume you, swallow you whole-

At the sound of everyone toasting to more twisters, you snapped out of your little morbid daydream. Looking over at Javi and Kate, you saw her leaning against his side, his arm around her waist, smiles on their faces. Kate whispered something into Javi’s ear, and he looked down at her with a grin. She cupped his cheek, your eyes stung, he leaned in, capturing her lips in a soft, romantic, kiss.

Promise I don't mean to cry

But I get overwhelmed and confused

If only you knew what I felt like

Your eyes stung, your bile rose in your throat, your lungs felt like they were collapsing and you wanted nothing more than to be disoriented, sedated, dead.

Breathing hard, you fled for the fields. Knocking over one of Javi’s beer bottles by accident, you speed walked, then ran to the backside of the motel, where there was a patch of grass. The surroundings were dark, the crickets seemed to taunt you, and your head was spinning. You needed more air than you could take in, your head had a dull, throbbing pain in it, you wanted to throw up, purge those feelings onto the soft grass.

You cried, covering your face and cried. Hard. Your whole body was stiff.

He kissed her

He kissed her. Oh he kissed her, he kissed her, he kissed her.

You didn’t even hear the footsteps behind you. You didn’t even register Javi running after you to check in on you.

“God damnit, are you okay? What’s wrong?!” He panicked, not touching you, though he knew you loved physical touch.

Why would he, anyway? He had a girlfriend-

Kate Carter.

“Leave… me a-alone” you wheezed, hiding your face, curling into a ball onto the dirt.

“Please” you begged, “I-I can’t be down here, I need to go ho-home” you cried “it- it’s a family emergency.” you lied through your teeth. Of course he wouldn’t question it. He didn’t care enough to even look at you. Why would he question a pretty good reason?

Javi looked at you, his face concerned. He nodded.

“I- Okay, alright. Take care, (Y/N)” he said softly. Genuinely.

It took all your willpower not to launch yourself into his arms. But the thought that Kate had been in them more often than you did sickened you.

One day, I will stop falling in love with you

Some day, someone will like me like I like you

So you ran through the fields, ran until your lungs burned, until you were going to faint, running on nothing but peach cobbler pie and coffee since almost 24 hours ago.

Your legs gave out, and your hands embraced the ground below, seeking comfort from Mother Nature which nobody could give you. Your body was folded and like a wounded animal, you let out guttural, gut wrenching sobs. You wanted to unsee it, to pour Javi’s beer over your eyes, to gouge them out for their sockets.

“Make it stop” you sobbed, choking on your saliva. “Please, make it stop” you prayed to the heavens above and the spirits below. You needed this to stop. The pain, the jealousy, the love to stop.

You fell asleep there in the field, Your breathing ragged, yet eventually even. You mumbled, whimpered, cried in your sleep. Seeing Javi kiss Kate. Seeing Javi hug Kate. Seeing Javi move in with Kate. Seeing Javi say ‘I love you’ to Kate, and Kate saying ‘I love you’ back. It was all Javi and Kate, Javi and Kate, Javi and Kate…

It wasn’t until one of the Wranglers found you that you woke up.

“Hey, it’s the girl from Storm Par!” The blonde man said to himself. You stirred, groaning.

“Tyler Owens?” you blinked your eyes open, he offered you a hand, which you ignored and got up.

“What’re you doin’ out here in the fields?” He asked, chewing some wheat between his teeth.

You hesitated. “Long story, but if you can drive me to the train station, I think we have enough time to go over it.” you asked with a pleading look. “Please, Tyler, one favour”

Tyler sighed, giving up “Sure. That’s what friends are for”. You smiled, thanking him.

Then you both disappeared off to the train station at 6:35 in the morning, where Tyler was so kind to lend you a ride. You went over the whole story, since college to now. 5 years worth of internalized drama, not sparing a single detail; He nodded along, gave his animated reactions, gave his input and advice where necessary. And soon enough, you were at the train station.

“Thanks for the ride, Tyler.” you thanked again, genuinely “and dont tell anyone about this” you said seriously, referring to the situation you described.

“Scout’s honour” He gave you his flashy smile “Take care out there, cowgirl” he chuckled. You nodded and smiled, grabbing your bag.

“You too”

Until then, I'll drink my coffee, eat my pie

Pretend that we are more than friends

Then, of course, I'll let you break my heart again

Back at home, you delved back into work, relieved to be away from the new couple. Life was bitter and hard, accompanied by your peach cobbler pie; you never really got over Javi and Kate, you just tried forgetting about them. Whenever you read a romance book or watched some rom-com, you imagined the couples to be you and Javi. Sometimes, you’d dream of you and Javi together, as a couple.

But as you dreamed of this, a few states away, Kate was living your wished reality.

—

taglist!!:

@urbexbat

[cinnbar-bun]

The Chain I

Relationship: Johnny Joestar x GN!Reader, minor Diego Brando x GN!Reader

Prompt: "Running in the shadows, damn your love, damn your lies / Break the silence, damn the dark, damn the light."

Summary: You've known each other for so long, ever since you were kids. But after he's become so unrecognizable, you have to wonder if being chained to him is worth it anymore.

Rating: SFW

Word Count: ~3.5k

Notes: Childhood friends to haters to lovers later, no spoilers for part 7, BUT mentions of death/spoilers of Johnny's backstory. Slight love triangle for this chapter, Johnny being a major douche, angry fight at the end, minor swearing. This chapter takes place pre-part 7.

Taglist (message me or fill out the form in the pinned to be added!): @gingernut1314 @adeadcreator @starr-l1ghtt

Read on my AO3 here!

A/n: I got nothing to say besties I love causing Johnny pain!!!!

“Nicholas, Johnny, remember that I have a guest coming over today. Can I ask that both of you remain on your best behavior?” George said sternly, a subtle warning that if the two acted up, there would be consequences to pay for it. The two boys agreed, back straight as they awaited the ‘guest’.

George exhaled and uncrossed his arms. “You two will not need to be in the study when they come by. My friend has a young child, around your age, Johnny. I expect that you two will treat them properly.” 

George didn’t wait for a response, walking away to prepare himself. Nicholas and Johnny glanced at each other, wide, eager smiles on their face as they thought about who they’d see. 

When the ‘guests’ finally arrived, Johnny momentarily forgot his manners, ignoring the man and instead glancing for the child George talked about. When his blue eyes landed on yours, something within him stirred, as if he was magnetized to you. 

He ran to you, grabbing your hands in his, and gave a toothy grin. “I’m Johnny! What’s your name?” 

Johnny could never explain why he was so drawn to you. You, likewise, never stood a chance against a fate when it came to Johnny. You two were practically attached at the hip, almost never seen without the other. 

Johnny (but mostly Nicholas) was the one who taught you how to secretly ride a horse whenever you visited the estate. You taught Johnny different plants he should avoid and what was edible after he had a mishap with poison ivy. Johnny liked getting lost in the forest with you. You liked staying up at night and pointing out different constellations with him from your book. 

“That’s a shooting star!” Johnny yelled, shooting upright and pressing his finger against the glass window. 

“What? Really?” You squinted. 

“Yeah, but you missed it, slowpoke,” he rolled his eyes as he flicked your forehead. 

“I’m not slow…” 

“And yet you’re always last when it comes to racing,” Johnny smugly pronounced. “What are we at? 1000 - 0?” 

“Ugh, you’re a jerk,” you huffed. “Now, you saw a shooting star. You gotta make a wish.” 

“Oh, right,” he said as he turned around to the face the night sky. He closed his eyes, exhaled, and clasped his hands together. “Okay, did it. I wished we’d be friends forever.” 

“Johnny!” You shouted. “You can’t tell me that, now it won’t come true!” 

“Don’t tell me you believe that old thing,” he snorted. “Come on, you know it’s not true.” 

“But what if it is? Now we might not be friends.” 

Johnny glanced back at you and sighed before he took his seat back on his bed next to you. “Nah. I know we will be friends forever. Even my dad thinks you’re part of the family now.”

“But how do we really know?” You asked anxiously. Johnny tapped his chin and shrugged. 

“Guess we don’t. But I’m not gonna believe a dumb superstition. We’re a team, right?” He insisted, putting his pinkie out to you. You felt yourself ease up at his confidence and wrapped your pinkie around his. 

“Yeah, a team.” He smiled proudly at your words. 

He had no reason in his mind to think of anything else. The four years you two had known each other had to have solidified your bond for life. His luck may have been strange, but you were a constant in his life. That wasn’t changing anytime soon.

You both should have known it was the beginning of end. At the age of 9, you and Johnny stood by Nicholas’s coffin. Johnny had clung to you, sobbing that it was all his fault, that he was the reason Nicholas died. If only he had just drowned Danny like George asked, if only he just listened, then Nicholas would still be there. 

He was fundamentally changed by Nicholas’s death. Why wouldn’t he be? That was his dear brother. You had grown to see Nicholas as an older brother as well, the type of good-natured sibling who made sure you and Johnny were happy. But Johnny was not Nicholas. 

You knew that. Johnny knew that. Most of all, George knew that. 

But Johnny kept continuing to go back on his horse, insisting he was fine, demanding you stop asking how he was. He was good. He would race. He would make George proud. He would honor Nicholas through his racing.

Johnny devoted so much time to racing, as if his life depended on it. Perhaps it did, in his mind, but you were still there, watching. You would read quietly by the small bench as Johnny lectured his horse for not jumping as high over the hurdle today. You would do your schoolwork while Johnny timed himself again and again, practicing lap after lap. Sometimes, Diego Brando would come to you and start a conversation with you. 

Johnny wouldn’t pay attention, too busy fixing the reins of his horse to care. And you, who really didn’t have much else besides him, hated seeing your best friend so hurt. So you would wait, as usual. 

“Do you think I’ll be able to make my dad proud?” Johnny mulls one evening as you both drink on the hill you two frequented as kids.

“I think you will,” you begin. “I think he’s proud of you now.” 

“That’s a damn lie and you know it.” 

You pursed your lips and took another sip. “I’m sorry.” 

“Yeah. So am I.” 

It only seemed to get worse from there. Johnny would make time for you infrequently, still trying to keep up the idea of you being his ‘best friend’ to those around him. You didn’t know which you’d rather deal with at this point; his total silence towards you while hordes of girls and celebrities flocked to him, or his half-hearted attempt at clinging to the friendship you two had. Both killed you inside, and despite knowing deep down that you should cut your losses, you still stuck around. 

You stuck around when he asked for you to cover for him while he was out drinking with some friends. You stuck around when he made you do the group project by yourself because some rich governor wanted to meet him later. You stuck around when he didn’t say a word as a ‘friend’ of his made fun of you for being so clingy towards Johnny like a lost puppy. 

You knew you shouldn’t have stuck around for that. You knew you deserved better. 

But that stupid, stupid part of you that yearned for Johnny to just treat you like he did before always won out over logic. That ridiculous voice inside you said that being hurt by Johnny was better than no Johnny at all. Because Johnny was your best friend, your first friend. 

Johnny was a lot of your firsts, in fact. He was not only your first friend, but the one who first taught you to ride a horse, the one you first slept over with, the one you did your first trip with, and your first kiss when you two tried to copy what you saw a couple do as kids. Scarily enough, he was not only those things, but he was also your first love. You stupidly fell in love with your childhood best friend. Like a damn cliche, you fell for him, never recognizing that the warmth you felt for him went just beyond friends. 

But it was too late to even confess this, as he had already was on his third girlfriend of the month, never sparing you a glance beyond a ‘thanks’ for doing his work. You would be foolish enough to try, but naive you that wished for everything under the sun for just a chance with Johnny still stayed. Maybe one day he’d wake up and recognize the people that encircled him after his race didn’t care. Maybe one day he’d notice that you were still there, cheering him on for his races, even as he came in second almost every time. Maybe, maybe, maybe, that foolish wish he made under the star would come true and you’d stay friends forever. 

Like always, you sat on the bench by the training grounds of the estate, reading for the upcoming test you would have soon, that Johnny would likely want you to summarize for him and his buddies. You heard footsteps approaching, but didn’t stop reading. 

“Johnny, what do you-” 

“Me? Johnny? Please. I thought you’d know better than that by now to compare me to him,” a smug voice reproached you. You looked up in confusion before noticing the cocky stature of none other than Diego Brando. 

“Oh… Diego. Do you want me to leave?” You asked, beginning to pack up your things. Diego only ever made casual conversation with you after all these years, so you had no clue why he was walking up to you so suddenly. 

“Hm, no. I just couldn’t help but notice that Joestar boy left you alone again.” 

You rolled your eyes as Diego taunted you. “If that’s all you came here to tell me, you can leave. I don’t need to hear that from you.” 

“So sensitive. You’re beginning to resemble a cornered dog.” 

“Diego, enough. Seriously. Just leave me alone if you have nothing nice to say,” you glared. 

“If that’s what you wish. I was going to offer you a chance to go for a ride with me, but if I am so horrible that you don’t even wish to talk to me, then I’ll be on my merry way. Goodbye, maybe that Joestar will throw you a bone one day,” Diego sneered as he turned around and waved his hand. 

“Huh? Wait!” You shot up and followed after him. “Why are you offering that to me?” 

“Must I explain it to you?” “I would like you to.” 

“Hah. No,” he deadpanned. “And look at you, already following after me. It seems you can’t help but listen to those more powerful than you.” 

“I’m not doing it because-” 

“I don’t really care,” Diego replied, throwing on the saddle for his horse and fitting it properly. “Would you like to come, or not?” 

Johnny despised Diego more than anything. He’d be furious if he knew you were even talking to him. Diego sensed your hesitation, sighing dramatically and extending his hand to you. “If you want to go waiting around like a lost sheep for that boy, by all means, go ahead. I’m offering you a horseback ride, not a marriage proposal.” 

Within an instant, you threw your reservations away and gripped his hand, letting him help you onto the saddle. He was right. Johnny was busy elsewhere and this was just a simple ride around the estate. Why should you care what Johnny thought now? 

Diego snorted in amusement as your brows furrowed, but didn’t make another comment, instead, snapping the reins of the horse against it, causing the horse to begin galloping. 

For the first time in a while, you had an enjoyable evening. You simply basked in the wind as Diego expertly maneuvered the horse around. It didn’t take much before you two began talking to each other, pleasantly surprised by how Diego was talking to you when Johnny was not around. It was like seeing a whole new side to the genius jockey that he rarely ever showed before. 

Soon, though, he took the horse back to the stable and promptly helped you off. You were about to collect your bearings and go when he spoke once more to you as he was rummaging through a box of supplies for tending to his horse. 

“You should really stand up for yourself for once.” 

“Huh?” 

“You heard me. Are you really going to let that boy trample you all over every day? Come on. It’s pathetic to witness. Even I felt bad seeing you like that,” he replied in an even tone. While his words were harsh, it lacked his usual mocking tone. 

“I don’t need your pity, Diego,” you stiffened, knowing he had a point. 

“I know you don’t need it. What you really need is a spine. Too bad all the money in the world can’t afford you that,” he commented. “Oh well. It’s not my place. But if you get tired of being that boy’s little mule, you can come to me. I’d be happy to have you as a cheerleader for me.” 

He looked you in the eyes this time. Instead of a haughty, egotistical smirk, it was a frank smile. You were taken aback by his casual friendliness and nodded. 

“Thank you. And thank you again for the ride. I needed it.” 

“Hmph. Don’t go around telling others that, though. Lord knows I don’t need more tabloids on my ass over this.” 

“I won’t. It’ll be our secret,” you said as you began to walk back to your original spot at the bench with a more relaxed stance. For once, there wasn’t a heavy pit in your stomach that threatened to consume you, but a gentle warmth that slowly blossomed there. 

That warmth didn’t last long when a few days after, Johnny and Diego were set to compete in another race. Of course you were going, that was always a given, and like always, Johnny gave you a ticket to let you in. Even if he was never around much, he left you the tickets in your bag, almost as if it was just expected of you. Perhaps it was, at this rate. You’ve been doing this for almost five years now. 

You sat in the bleachers next to a few other familiar faces- mostly the elite who came to socialize or discuss some business and gamble, or younger people who came to try and entice the racers into giving them more attention. You were to offer moral support and comfort Johnny when he’d get frustrated for being silver. 

It was a while before Johnny was set to race, but when he did, the crowd whispered in hushed tones if he would finally surpass Diego today. Some had bet on him, while others kept to their trusty pick of Diego. The gunshot went off, and the horses sprinted. It was close. So, so close. Johnny was more determined than ever to win this race, and it showed in the near sliver of space between him and Diego. 

Come on, Johnny, come on!

You held your breath, but as it was for so long, close was not close enough. Diego had won, but only by a measly half a second. Your heart dropped as Johnny grimaced and hurried his horse back to the stable. Silver was not good enough. Silver would never make George look at him. Not while Diego was winning race after race, surrounded in heaps of gold. 

You stood up to go meet with Johnny, hurriedly wanting to comfort him and offer more words of encouragement that would probably amount to nothing. Because nothing was enough, not until he won. Just as you were in the stables and looking for Johnny, someone clearing their throat beside you caught your attention. You turned around and saw Diego, that smug look on his face again as he held a gold trophy. 

“Not even a congratulations?” He joked. 

“Oh, sorry. Congrats, Diego. You did wonderful out there, today,” you complimented him. Even if Johnny was your friend, Diego was clearly a special prodigy at horseriding. It was no wonder he was called the ‘genius jockey’ all throughout America and Europe. You were about to continue when he grabbed your wrist. 

“That eager to see Joestar? I’m sure he can wait. I wanted to ask you something,” Diego began. 

“Hm? Go ahead.” 

“They’re organizing a party for my win soon. Tomorrow night, actually. I’m allowed one guest. Perhaps you’re interested in ditching Joestar for the evening and coming with me?” You gasped and felt your face heat up. 

“Diego, I-” 

“Are you kidding me?!” A voice yelled. You jumped at the tone but knew instantly who it was. Diego snorted and placed a hand on his hips. 

“Well now. Can’t you see we’re in the middle of something, Joestar?” Diego snapped. 

“Back the hell off, Brando, I don’t wanna deal with your shit right now,” Johnny venomously spouted. He stomped over and stood between you and Diego. “Is that what you’ve been doing? Huh?” 

“What? Johnny, what are you talking about?” You replied, confused at why he was suddenly aiming his vitriol at you. 

“You know damn well what I’m talking about! I invited you here, and now you’re planning trysts with this asshole?” 

“I didn’t even-” 

“What kind of friend are you?! You know how much I hate him! Why are you going to see him behind my back?” 

Your blood began boiling at all these accusations. You clenched your fists and jaw, trying to control yourself. “I didn’t do anything behind your back. Diego just asked me a question.” 

“Please, Diego never justs ‘asks’ questions. And don’t lie to me. I saw what you two did the other day!” 

“So what? It was just a little ride! It’s not like we did anything!” 

“So you admit you’ve been seeing him!” Johnny pointed a finger at you. Diego made his presence known again and stepped closer. 

“What, jealous, Joestar? That your ‘best friend’ finally opened their eyes and prefers me over your lousy company?” 

“Yeah, right. I don’t give a crap about you, Brando!” Diego didn’t respond, instead spitting at the floor near Johnny’s decaying shoes. 

“You talk big for second place. A second-rate jockey like you should know better than to try and insult me after that piss-poor performance you gave today.” 

“You damn-” Johnny nearly launched at Diego before you held him back. “What the hell? Let go of me!” 

“Johnny, seriously? You can’t go attacking people!” You lectured. 

“Why the hell are you defending him? Huh? You like him that much?” 

“It’s not about liking, Johnny, it’s just-” 

“Just what? Think you can suddenly do better than me? You ain’t that special!” Johnny screamed at the top of his lungs. Time froze as you saw Johnny’s eyes widen in horror at what he just told. Even Diego was taken aback for a moment before you let go of Johnny and swiftly smacked him across the face. 

“Screw you! You’re horrible!” You trembled, the years of anger and humiliation now getting to you. Johnny held his cheek with his hand as you unleashed everything you felt inside. “How can you tell me I’m a bad friend when you never acted like a friend in years?! How can you get mad at me when I wait around for you, when I embarrass myself daily thinking one day you’ll treat me like an actual person and not a damn dog?!” 

“I didn’t mean to-” 

“I don’t wanna hear it from you, Johnny! I should’ve done this earlier! I should’ve stopped hanging around and wishing for you to grow up! Because you never will! You’re an even bigger asshole than anyone else I’ve ever met! All you do is think you’re hot shit, when really, you’re just an insecure little brat!” 

Johnny’s face furrowed as his ego felt more bruised than before. “Really? If you think I’m such an asshole, then why don’t you just go?” 

“I will! I don’t wanna see you ever again!” 

“Oh yeah? See if you’ll get anywhere without me being the one to prop your name up! See if you’ll be anyone if I didn’t give you some attention!” 

“I hate you, Johnny! I wish we never even met!” Your voice echoed in the stables. Johnny’s hands shook in anger as he gripped the second place trophy tight. You were breathing raggedly, but all Johnny could see was Diego smirking at him, as if taunting him. Rubbing it in his face that he caused this, that your frustration was all his doing. 

In a fit of rage and guilt, Johnny flung the trophy at Diego, only barely missing the English jockey. He didn’t bother to stay in the stables any longer, instead walking away from you for good. 

“Yeah, well, have fun with him then. Go suck up to him as much as you can, because when I win, I’m not gonna let you come back,” Johnny bitterly stated, ripping off the gold pin you got him so many years ago as a good luck charm and tossing it to the dirt. 

“I’d never want you back anyways,” you spat, solidifying ten years of friendship coming to an end, never to be seen as anything more than a bad memory.

[katyawriteswhump]

mommy's girl

For @stevieweek day 4 (sorry I’m late!) Special Outfit and extra prompts, Scoops/uniform, lingerie & @steddiemicrofic July prompt, ‘one’.  Rating: M WC 1,111 words. CW: None.

Tags: trans-fem Stevie Harrington, steddie, no upside down au, angst and feels, platonic stobin, steve has an awesome mom and not-so-awesome dad (also, faintly based on some RL experiences belonging to my other half... used with permission and love ;)) All my ST fic on AO3

Summary: Stevie makes a new beginning, and it’s all super-overwhelming…

…

Stevie was fumbling in her purse for her car-keys. Her mom hurried from the porch with yesterday’s mascara bleeding from her eyes and her hair tumbling from its pins:

“Stevie! You forgot your name-badge.”

���Gotta love company policy,” griped Stevie. At least the dumb thing now said ‘Stevie.’ Her mom pinned it on her Scoops uniform above her padded bra—part of a slinky set Eddie gifted her last time he came home from tour. Eddie was next due back today, which was something to look forward to after the previous night’s trauma.

“You gonna be okay, mom?” asked Stevie. “If you need me, I’ll call in sick.”

“No. This is day one of the rest of our lives. Your father’s finally gone for good. I need to start untangling our affairs.”

“And I finally get to go to work in a miniskirt.” Stevie glanced at her thigh-kissing skirt. She loved it, but… Shit, too much was happening.

His mom had booted her father out for a billion reasons. However, his constant gaslighting of Stevie being Stevie—and her dating ‘that lowlife Munson punk’—had sparked last night’s apocalyptic standoff. “Look, I’m sorry it was me that—”

“Don’t you dare apologise.” Her mom placed her hands on Stevie’s shoulders. “I’m so proud of you, darling. You got a job you enjoy, a boyfriend who adores you, and you always look a billion dollars.”

“In this shitty uniform?”

“Even in that.”

“Still not wearing the lousy hat.”

Breaking the news about her father to Robin meant Scoops opened half an hour late. Then, when Stevie leaned down to pull up the shutter, Robin yelled: “Screw you, Shit-bird, that skirt looks too good, and your ass looks too pretty, and I despise you.”

“You wear a skirt then. You could start a douchey scoreboard for who gets more creepy stares.”

“You know I hate skirts.”

“Quit whining then.”

Bantering with Robin couldn’t distract Stevie from her tiredness and nerves. When her mind started screaming, she focussed on the cling of her skirt, the glide of the silk panties beneath. Eddie would be here soon. Eddie would go crazy for her…

Robin took the phone message. Eddie’s flight was cancelled. He wouldn’t be home till tomorrow.

Dammit, Stevie needed him now.

She was wiping down a table, when she heard a snicker. A devastating mean-girl stare slammed into her.

Right at crotch level.

Stevie glanced down. 

Oh. Shit.

Robin found her at the back of the store, slumped forward on the table, face pillowed in her arms. “Stevie? You okay?”

“No.” Stevie jumped up and pointed to the middle-front of her skirt. At the bulge. “Look.”

“Huh?”

 “You see? It’s Mr… Miss Pokey.” 

Robin shrugged. “Only if you squint.”

Stevie swiped her lank-feeling hair from her face. Her hands trembled. “I’ve not even gotten an erection or anything. Everyone’s staring.”

“They’re not.”

“They are! I loved these panties, but the silk triangle at the front bunches everything forward and…” Suddenly, it was all super-overwhelming. What the heck was she… HE… doing? He’d wrecked his parents’ marriage. Eddie was probably lying about the flight to avoid him. “Jesus, I look horrible. I’ll put the shorts back on.”

“Don’t you dare.” Robin shoved a banana across the table. “Eat that. You’re cranky when you’re hungry.”

“It doesn’t solve—”

“No, it doesn’t. I have an idea what will.”

…

“It’s too weird not having to shit myself about your Pa taking pot-shots at me,” said Eddie, when Stevie led him into her bedroom. It was stacked with boxes—her mom had already got the decorators in. “Got you a lil’ something, Babe.”

Eddie presented a crepe-paper parcel. Stevie smiled tightly and sat on the bed to unwrap. It was gonna be more underwear, but her confidence was so shattered that…

She held up the swathe of peachy cotton and white lace. “You got me granny pants?”

Eddie beamed and Stevie couldn’t help giggling.

“Jesus, did Robin call you? Or my mom?”

She stripped off and pulled them on, loving how Eddie lapped her up with his thirsty gaze. Stevie couldn’t keep her own eyes from the mirror. The panties pressed her in slightly in the front, perfect for a mini-skirt or figure-hugging dress. Eddie swept her hair from where it dusted her shoulders and hooked her matching bra. He trailed kisses down the sweep of her neck, each sending a delicious shimmer down her spine, then twirled her around.

“I love them, Eddie.”

“Me too, honey. You look amazing. I could’ve got ones that pad at the hips but with your teeny waist…” He traced it lightly. She shivered with pleasure. “Nah, don’t need it.”

“Can’t believe I’m feeling hot in big panties.” She leaned back into his embrace, dizzied by the weird relief of the moment. It was no way as epic as her father having finally gone, but… 

“Shall I order a dozen, Stevie?”

“Hell, yeah.”

They both tumbled sideways onto her bed. “Cool, Babe. Let’s get you outta them.”

They took it slow, kissing till he was wearing her lipstick. Then he set her squirming, her fists clenching his hair, as he nibbled around the cute lace at the trim of her panties, before slipping his fingertips teasingly beneath. Slowly, he peeled her free. Stevie hadn’t waxed today, but that was fine, because hairy was what she was sometimes, and Eddie, as he whispered again and again, worshipped her every way she was.

They made love, fixing deep in each other’s eyes. Stevie’s panties looped her thigh like a slinky garter.

…

It was a week later when Stevie, for the first time since her father left, found her mom crying. She was hanging out the washing on the line.

“Mom, what is it?”  She hurried over, and yes, her mom’s eyes were teary. And she was laughing. “Mom?”

Her mom reached up and brushed knuckles down Stevie’s cheek. “Don’t worry about me, darling. I’m happy.” She nodded at Stevie’s new panties. “They remind me of my gym kit. You know, the good old cheerleading days. Never marry a Jock, darling.”

“Wasn’t on planning on it.”

“Eddie really is the one, isn’t he?”

Stevie’s heart panged with happiness and sadness at once. “Still time for you to find your one and only, mom.”

They pegged the rest of the washing up together: “Gotta ask, mom—did you want a daughter?”

“I only ever wanted you, Stevie,” she said, then, slightly crossly: “But if your long-haired lover’s late for family dinner again, I’ll kick his ass back on tour.”

“Mom!” Stevie pitched a sock, which her mom neatly caught. “Don’t be mean.”

They were both laughing. Life felt pretty good.

[alexanderlightweight]

Hi Lumine, hope your Wednesday's going well! My boy (greyhound) has been at the vet today for dental check-up (all clear!) and came back as high as a kite - I swear he is so out of it he forgot how to lay on his bed, just stood on top staring through me and the walls into space! If you feel like it, I'd love to see a similar situation with either Alec or Magnus on strong painkillers and the other bemused/amused by their reactions. SfW please.

omg your poor baby!!! I bet he gets hit pretty hard with how slender greyhounds are!! I love that even like that, they're kind of the same when the drugs finally hit.

Nightshade is built like a tank so we have to dose him extra and every time he just looks sadder the more he slips under like 'why would you give me MORE drugs? thinking is hard enough already!!! baba noooooooo.' he also gets the munchies. and while he can put himself in his crate when he's drugged he doesn't know how to get through the open door or he'll cry if his toy is too far away or i'm too far away. he's very pawthetic.

Magnus took a magic replenishing potion btw. he doesn't normally 'indulge' because it's more potent than drinking but he trusts Alec enough to let down his guard. he's not just trusting Alec to take care of him, he's also trusting his instincts and magic not to hurt Alec.

i hope you enjoy! the story about your baby was lovely and this prompt was a lot of fun!

<3 lumine

tw character on medication

-

subtle secrets of the heart

Despite Magnus’ lust for decadence, he never indulges himself to where he ends up like this.

That’s all Alec can really think of as he watches Magnus turn limp and languid and his golden, luminous eyes threaten to swallow Alec whole.

It’s understandable really.

Magnus being intoxicated — on a very specific potion because his alcohol tolerance is too high for even fae wine to work — is clearly dangerous.

Because Magnus hasn’t even asked for anything yet and Alec is dying to give him whatever he wants.

And also keep as close to him as possible because while Magnus is always warm, he’s molten like this and his body is a beacon to Alec’s senses.

It makes it all the more frustrating that right now, Alec can’t enjoy it because he is currently just trying to get Magnus to stop snapping things away.

Mainly because Alec isn��t sure that Magnus will remember where he sends anything while he’s like this and Alec really doesn’t want to have to explain to Idris that his primary and personal tablet was sent to the Bermuda Triangle.

“Please, Magnus—” he catches Magnus’ hand and kisses the blue sparks that have just started to form. “Nothing needs to be put away, just let it be a mess. For tonight?”

It takes a moment for Magnus to focus on him — he’s been currently getting rid of everything he looks at that he doesn’t like, which is apparently everything but the chair he’s flopped in and Alec.

And Alec breathes out a sigh of relief as his work bag is blessedly left alone.

Going to the roof doesn’t seem ideal with Magnus like this — too much wild energy and complicated magic and things that Magnus might dislike in this mood.

So to the bedroom it is.

That has the least objectionable amount of things in it, considering every little thing has been handpicked by Magnus or Alec or both.

“My strong, sturdy shadowhunter.” Magnus purrs out the words so strongly that Alec can barely understand him and he’s a little worried that Magnus is going to need some healing tea the next day.

“Yes Magnus, your shadowhunter.” Is all he really manages to get out because carrying Magnus is always lovely but it’s even more distracting with Magnus groping his muscles and ass and nuzzling as close as possible.

Alec might drop him if this keeps up.

Something that is too horrific to truly consider and Alec braces himself better and speeds up.

He is not dropping Magnus just because his husband is a little handsy at the moment.

That would be possibly the most embarrassing thing Alec could ever do and worse, Magnus probably wouldn’t even hold it against him.

Magnus takes care of Alec when he’s drunk, sleep-deprived, fucked-stupid and a plethora or other things and he hasn’t dropped him even once.

True, Magnus has magic but Alec is a shadowhunter so he feels like that isn’t probably the excuse he’d like it to be.

Pain blooms on his neck and as delightful as it is, he also almost knocks Magnus into the doorframe and it takes a moment of maneuvering before he has his deadweight, warlock of a husband and his very frisky magic into their room.

Alec is going to kindly request that Magnus never take this kind of potion again without them both properly preparing and being set up for this.  He knows he’s being dramatic, but the last thing Alec wants is Magnus to wake up sore and with bruises and then Alec having to explain that it’s not what he’s thinking. And that it’s because Alec couldn’t get Magnus from the living room to the bedroom safely... not because they fucked happily and merrily from the living room. 

Which they’ve done.

Multiple times.

With less injuries and bruises than are currently being stacked against him.

Considering all the times Magnus has whisked Alec away from battlefields and political landmines and family disputes and just general unpleasantness, Alec thinks he’s personally failed since he’s having trouble simply conquering two hallways and an open concept loft.

Magnus fingers cling to Alec’s skin as he wrestles him onto the bed — because Magnus like this is pliable only to a degree.

He lets Alec carry him and move him but the moment Alec tries to step away or even look away from Magnus, he’s being pulled back.

By magic that sparks and sweaty fingers that drag on his skin and catch on his clothes and eyes that sear through him to the bone.

“Let me get the lights.” Alec murmurs, because Magnus can’t be comfortable with the sun shining through the windows or the chandelier still lit up.

It’s a mistake to let Magnus know what is taking Alec’s attention because suddenly the room is dark.

Alec can no longer see even the shadows as everything is consumed by an abyssal darkness — everything but the twin rings of Magnus golden cat eyes.

Giving it up for a lost cause, Alec does his best to get into the bed without digging a knee into Magnus’ ribs or elbowing his face.  It works despite the fact that Magnus is fighting dirty and then Alec can finally curl up next to his husband and be the pillow Magnus wants him to be.

Magnus climbs atop him, ear to Alec’s heart and fingers possessive on Alec’s hip.

“You’re very adorable like this.” Alec murmurs quietly, fingers running through hair soft as silk, the magic that normally kept it coif melting under his touch. “But I already miss your voice.”

Magnus purrs at him, something deep and rumbling and it soothes the small ache of loneliness that Alec’s been feeling since Magnus took the potion.

[scarecrowsandcherryblossoms]

And the prompts for KakaSaku Week 2024: Falling For You are live! Come explore our favorite couple in different seasons of love. Each day has two prompts to choose from to go along with the theme for the day, taken from unused trope of the month prompts suggested by the lovely members of our discord and other suggestions from the mods.

Feel free to fulfill one or both of each day's prompts. Fics, art, moodboards, songs, we want to see them all! (It's understood that some of these may require a little more explanation, so see below the cut for details.)

Have questions? Want to brainstorm with others? Need to gush about KakaSaku in general? Send us an ask.... or come join our Discord! We're open for ONE WEEK starting today, ending next Saturday (9/07), approximately 10 AM EST.

CLICK HERE TO JOIN THE SCARECROWS AND CHERRY BLOSSOMS DISCORD!

Falling For You Prompts (November 10-16, 2024)

Day 1-Slowly, Then All At Once

(Think about how a leaf falls from a tree, slowly, then quickly once it touches the ground. Kinda like a good slow burn romance that hits you with the feels once the characters realize that oh—they're in love)

🌸Fake Dating

🐺Gods and Mortals

Day 2-Forbidden Love

(Give me your best Montagues vs Capulets, enemies to lovers, Twilight, power imbalance dynamic, star crossed lovers etc. scenarios you can think of!)

🌸 Forced Proximity

🐺 Secrets

Day 3-Unrequited

(The angst, the heartbreak, the crying that happens in the midnight hours when one has an unrequited love. Sometimes it's not as unrequited as one thinks, but who's to say we'll ever know? 👀)

🌸 Blind Date

🐺 "oh my god they were roommates"

Day 4-It's Always Been You

(There better be so much pining a forest has sprouts in the background of the love story shown. Is the pining mutual but of course they don't know it? One sided?)

🌸 Hanahaki Disease

🐺 Firsts

Day 5-Accidentally In Love

(Think Shrek. Someone you're not supposed to fall in love with, or they were never supposed to be on your radar to begin with. Marriages/relationships of convenience, if we're not married by 35 let's marry each other! type situations.)

🌸 Fears

🐺 Love Letters

Day 6-Second Chances

(What if Kakashi and Sakura were exes? How do they get their second chance romance? Or they were almost lovers but circumstances ripped them apart and now here they are with another chance?)

🌸 Biggest Fan

🐺 Love Triangle

Day 7-5+1

(Remember all those fics about the five times a character did something or didn't do something and then the one time they did? Yeah? Well this is that. ie the fives times they almost kissed and the one time they did, or the five times they lied and the one time they didn't, etc. The possibilities are endless!)

🌸 Gift

🐺 There was only one bed

[velocesainz]

𝑾𝒆𝒍𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝑴𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒂'𝒔 𝑩𝒐𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒒𝒖𝒆°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

☾⋆⁺₊🎧✩°｡

Hello lovelies! Welcome to my boutique you can make your purchase of the items that are under the cut (You can always add your own prompts). I write romance, dark, angst and smut so feel free to let me know which genre you want to see me write. I also write poly!relationships and really love it. Feel free to send me a message to talk about anything, I'm always here to listen. I write for the following fandoms.

On hiatus

Formula 1 | Percy Jackson | Stranger Things | Twilight | The Rookie | Harry Potter | Suits

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊ ♪ ✧

𝑪𝒍𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒎𝒔: ˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡˚

Bathrobe: You're literally perfect

Bikini: Sexy, sexy little slut

Blazer: Can you feel how how much you turn me on

Blouse: I wish I never met you

Bomber jacket: How could you say that

Cardigan: I could do this all day, all night

Cargo pants: You're not telling anyone what happens here

Crop top: I'll make tonight special

Corset: Oh you don't think it'll fit? Nice try but i will make it fit

Denim jeans: Your ass looks extra nice today

Flowy skirt: I wonder how your father would feel if he knew what was going on between us.

Graphic tee: Will you marry me?

Halter top: I will love you till the day I die

Hoodie: I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I didn't tell you

Jacket: You're the best thing that has ever happened to me

Jumpsuit: Swallow it. I should not see even a drop and that pretty tongue of yours

Maxi skirt: I'm drunk ok, so what?

Mesh top: Why do you care so much

Midi skirt: How can you show off so much of your body like that? Your body is mine and only I get the see it and touch it

Leggings: How did I get so lucky

Off-shoulder top: Wait till we get home

Overalls: If you were a good little whore for me you wouldn't have to face this

Pencil skirt: You're so fucking stupid

Polo: I frankly don't give a fuck

Puff sleeve: That's sucka good fucking girl

Romper: You are going to regret what you just did

Shirt: Your moans are my favourite sound

Shorts: I'm not responsible for anything that happens after this

Sweater: It's time to put that mouth to good use

Sweatpants: You make my head spin

Tank top: I can't get enough of you

Trench coat: You really think you can escape from me

Tube top: You squeeze me so well

Tunic: Jealous? So what if I am jealous

Turtleneck: I'm going to mark you up so everyone knows you're mine

V-neck sweater: You are so hot it makes me hard just looking at you

Custom-wear: Any particular prompt phrase

𝑨𝒄𝒄𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉: ༘ 𝜗𝜚⋆｡˚.ᐟ

Bracelet: Forbidden love

Earring: Soulmates

Necklace: Fake dating

Barrette: Bet

Scarf: Friends to lovers

Sunglasses: Arranged marriage

Watch: Strangers to lovers

Sun hat: Enemies to lovers

Baseball cap: Love triangle

Scrunchie: Unrequited

Headband: Secret relationship

Beret: Friends with benefits

Gloves: Rough sex

Cufflinks: Jealousy

Brooch: Soft sex

Bandana: Breeding

Belt: Spanking

Tie: Choking

Ear cuffs: Possessive/ obsessive

Clutch: Punishment

Shawl: Filming

Leg warmer: Degradation

Sashes: Drunk sex

Fedora: High sex

Beanie: Public sex/ semi-public

Face mask: insecure reader

Bucket hat: Mirror sex

[newtboot465]

So after writing an 86k word tome over the last four weeks about a rutag x tasil love triangle, and posting the last chapters yesterday, I vowed to take a break.

But guess who has two thumbs and spent today writing 4k more words in #tasil one shots based on anonymous ask prompts? *This guy.*

I just can't help myself. It's like I feel personally responsible for this ship.

If you want to read the tome, link is embedded below.

Submit an ask if you'd like to see some additional drivel from my extended tasil universe! (Believe me, it will be an extended universe. I can't stop myself.)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61662928

[dayseternal-blog]

Hello! I just wanted to thank you for the amazing recommendations categorized so well. They really helped me go through most of the really good ones as a newer NaruHina shipper.

I was wondering if you have any recommendations for a love triangle between Naruto, Hinata and Sasuke. Or ones where Sasuke and Hinata are friends too.

Thank you so much for your blog!

I'm glad you made use of my lists!! Here are a few NaruHina fics with Sasuke on the side that I haven't recommended before:

"Pining Heart" by mythicalheartbeat - Rated G, Canon-Divergent, One-shot. She was the one girl who never seemed to fall over him, the one who didn't seem to care. The one he couldn't forget.

"the best man" by anonymous - Rated T, Modern AU, Multi-Chapter, Complete. naruto is the best man for his best friend's wedding. that wouldn't be a problem if it wasn't for the fact that he's in love with the bride to be.

"The Love We Keep to Have" by Rasengone - Rated E, Modern AU, Multi-Chapter, Incomplete. He want to go see his best friend for usual hangout because it's been a while. He didn't expect to meet the wife who needs some comfort. The woman who he fell in love with since the first time they met until now and he never stops loving her.

In these next ones, Sasuke is good friends with Hinata.

"20th Year" by TINA18 - Rated E, Royalty AU, Multi-chapter, Complete. The life of royalty for three best friends in neighboring kingdoms was something none of them would change about their lives. They had been together since birth and loved their close-knit friendship, but things changed the year of their 20th birthdays – the year they became eligible to get married.

"Girls Need Swords to Play" by @happyocelot - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, One-shot. Naruto decides that Sasuke needs to make more friends, find more precious people...by devouring a million bowls of ramen with them. All of them...even Lee. Sasuke wants to be left alone. And Hinata gets a dangerous new hobby.

"Master Servant AU" from "Tales of Two Ninjas" by @magmawrites - Rated M, Canon-Divergent, One-shot. Some relationships are forbidden but there are no rules when it comes to love.

Here's my list from the last time someone requested something like this...

NaruHina with Poor Pining Sasuke AU

“Chapter 39” from “Between the Trees” by @utsus - Rated T, Canon-Divergent AU, One-shot. Prompt: Would you write sasuke being jealous with naruhina or naruto being wary of sasuke/sasuhina?

“Chapter 32” from “Between the Trees” by utsus - Rated T, Canon-Divergent AU, One-shot. NaruHina Prompt: (because it was hot as heck here today) how about NaruHina and bathing suits.<3

“Echoes of Silence” by @ellaroundpanda - Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. Hinata Hyuga was trapped. Her relationship with Toneri was leading to nowhere and she wanted to find a new Dom. Naruto Uzumaki seemed to be the answer to all her prayers, but her fiancé wouldn’t give up that easily…

The following three are more like….idk, crazy possessiveness.

“The Way of the Geisha” by chancewriter - Rated M, Canon-Divergent AU, Multi-chapter, Complete. When Hinata was kidnapped by Kumo, Hiashi could not save her and everyone thinks she died. She ends up in a very different life from the ninja she was supposed to be, but her ninja life is never far behind her.

“Road to Redemption” by averagejane497 - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Complete. Naruto’s made a lot of mistakes in his life, especially concerning the women he loves. Maybe this time he can get it right.

“I want you to cry” by Devahhole - Rated E for graphic murder, dub-con/non-con, and smut, High School AU, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. A sociopath blinded by revenge runs into his greatest opponent.

The next two are….hmmm…not exactly a crush…more like lusting…..well, you’ll see.

“Secrets of the Hidden Leaf” by @sessakag - Rated E for a ton of different kinks, Canon-Divergent AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Naruto and Hinata push the boundaries of propriety and decency in a budding relationship of profound love and wild, sexual exploration. This will be NaruHinaSasu eventually.

“The Legend of Yukari” by Gekiai - Rated E (also hints at SasuHina & ItaHina pairings, so definitely not for everyone), Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Three men plague the life of Hinata Hyuga, also known as Yukari. It all sounds like a love story any girl would want except Hinata is an adult video star with no plans of retiring anytime soon.

Anyone can add on!

[schrodinger-swriter]

HIHIHI CAN I REQ VOX WITH PROMPTS 21, 23, AND 27??? TYSM HAVE A GOOD DAY :D

Prompts 21, 23, and 27 with Vox

I think this will be my last post at least for this writing session... apologies for putting out so little today I'm feeling a little blugh..

LOVE TRIANGLE:

It is only natural that the love triangle in question involves his biggest rival and enemy, Alastor... except does Alastor actually like you or is he just using you for his own personal gain and spiting Vox? That's... likely, but how far is the radio demon willing to go just to do something so petty? Regardless it puts Vox in a spiral trying to out compete Alastor, even more than usual. He begins to overcompensate more than he already does with all these flashy tech items and gadgets to try to win your attention over. He seems like the type to get drunk and cry at your front door. It's actually kind of sad to watch.

BEACH EPISODE:

He's mostly waterproof! I doubt getting in the water would actually kill him (well... ignoring that he's a sinner so he would just come back..) or do any real damage to him. At most it might make him feel gross and sluggish after a bout of electricity.. HATES the sand due to it just getting everywhere. Not at all afraid to ogle at you when you step out in your swimwear, but if you ask him he might try to act smooth... flirt, but try to make it sound... not as atrocious as the thoughts going through his mind. If there's a drink bar at the beach he's mostly going to stick there and get his fill on whatever they're offering.

CAMPING:

Though if there's anything that he hates more than the beach it's camping. He is... what I like to call chronically online. A workaholic too, though I am unsure he truly fits the definition. His job requires him to keep up with trends at all hours of the day, and with Alastor back Vox is even more obsessed with beating out Bambi. He's on edge and a little irritated... he's not... totally displeased with spending time with you, but add the above with that he just doesn't like the idea of sleeping on the ground over night where there's god knows what in Hell's forests... it is simply not pleasing to him.

[stellarspecter]

stwg daily prompt 4/10/24: guitar

1.8k, steddie, modern au, guitar teacher eddie/guitar student steve (+ dustin as steve's brother)

so this is literally just me giving eddie my exact job and letting the plot bunnies do as they may. will be up on ao3 in a day or two once i've had time to look it over and think of a title but here it is! divider graphic by @saradika-graphics

“Let’s try that verse again, okay? 5, 6, 7, 8…” 

The little girl in front of Eddie plays with the utmost concentration, her little brow scrunched up as she tries to switch to a D chord. 

“It’s our little triangle, remember? On the — good, exactly,” Eddie nods and keeps strumming. “And to C, slide down to the first fret… 1, 2, 3, to E minor, yep, 1, 2, 3, 4.” The last notes fade into the slightly stale air of the practice room. “Good job! You did a lot better with your chord transitions this time. We’re about out of time for today, but try and practice that verse and chorus at home, okay? And then we’ll see about that bridge next week,” he tells her.

She nods with a big gummy smile. “Okay!” Eddie helps her put her guitar back in its case and walks her back out to the little waiting area they have behind the lessons desk. It’s honestly a little cramped, but before they hired him, he hadn’t even known that Guitar Center offered lessons at all, so it makes sense. He sends the girl off with her parents and a promise to practice every day before he slides behind the desk to check his schedule for his next student.

Usually he has a half hour gap on Wednesdays that he uses to practice for his band or chat with his coworkers, but today there’s a new name on the schedule: Steve Harrington.

“Huh,” he mutters. His manager hadn’t mentioned any new sign-ups to him. Maybe it was from online? With a shrug, he settles in to wait for the guy to show up. It’s 5:57, so he’s still got a few minutes.

After a minute or two of dicking around on his phone, someone calls out, “Hey, Eddie!”

He looks up to find his 6:30 student standing in front of him, an excitable kid named Dustin Henderson. He’s fun to chat with, and Eddie looks forward to his lessons — especially since it’s an opportunity to get yet another young mind hooked on metal. Sure, he’ll play and teach whatever is required, but he’ll never forget his one true love.

“Henderson,” Eddie responds, standing up and leaning against the pillar bracketing the desk. “You know your lesson is in half an hour, right?”

“I know!” He replies, chipper as ever. “I’m after him!” He jerks a thumb back behind him, and Eddie finally notices the most beautiful man he’s ever seen standing behind Dustin.

Dear god. If this is his new student, he’s absolutely fucked.

“Hi,” the man says, extending a hand when it becomes clear Eddie is incapable of forming words. “I’m Steve.”

Eddie forces himself to act normal and grabs his hand, shooting him a smile that he hopes comes off as confident. “Eddie,” he replies. “Munson. I play guitar.”

“I’d sure hope so,” Steve jokes, eyes dancing, and Eddie is fuuuuucked. Completely and absolutely. How is he going to be able to be alone with him in a tiny practice room for a whole half hour? 

“Well, you’re in luck,” Eddie says, kind of operating on autopilot while his brain reboots. “It’s. Guitar Center.” He mentally facepalms and claps his hands together, spinning and walking them back towards the practice rooms. “So, Steve, what brings you here on this fine day? Are you Dustin’s… dad?”

Usually, his mom is the one to drive him and wait in the lobby, but it’s not out of the question that Steve could be his stepdad or something, with their different surnames. He seems around Eddie’s age, but maybe he’s just into milfs or something? 

He can’t be single. The universe is never that kind to Eddie.

Dustin bursts out laughing. “My dad? Dude, he’d had to have had me at like, twelve!”

Eddie flushes. “Well, I don’t know!”

“He’s my brother.” Steve swoops in and saves him from embarrassment. “The Hendersons took me in when I was sixteen, that’s why we have different last names.”

Eddie nods. “Oh, cool. So I assume Dustin got you to take lessons too?”

Steve laughs a little, just when Eddie thought he could finally cope with his unearthly beauty, the dick. “Yeah, he’s dead set on us starting a family band or something. I told him I could just dust off my piano skills, but he insisted. Little twerp.” He goes to ruffle his brother’s hair, and Dustin expertly ducks — clearly a common occurrence in their household.

“Cool,” Eddie says again. “Well, you ready to get started?” 

Steve nods, and Dustin goes to look around the store and mess with the DJ equipment. 

“So, you said you played piano? How long ago was that?” Eddie asks as he ushers him into the practice room.

“Oh, years and years. My parents made me take lessons when I was a kid, stopped in middle school, so it’d have to be… ten years or something now? Eleven? Jesus, I’m getting old,” Steve answers.

Eddie laughs. “Oh, trust me, I get it. Every time I say I’ve been playing guitar for over a decade a little part of me dies.” They share a laugh as they both get situated on their matching stools and guitars on their laps. “So that’s a little bit about me, that I’ve been playing for over a decade. I didn’t go to school for music or anything, but I’m in a metal band in my free time, and I like to think I have a pretty good understanding of music theory and techniques after all this time, so don’t worry, you’re in good hands.” It’s easier than he’d expected to slip into his practiced first lesson spiel, but he’s still hyper-focused on Steve’s reactions, taking in every hint of a smile. “I’m actually self-taught, so I learned basically by just watching YouTube tutorials and spending a lot of time on Ultimate Guitar,” Eddie explains with a wry smile. 

“That’s really cool,” Steve says, impressed. “I could never do that.”

“Well, that’s what I’m here for, right?” It’s a familiar back and forth to Eddie. Maybe he can do this. “I like to run my lessons the same way — instead of learning some random two-measure exercises from a book, we learn songs that you want to learn, and through that we can learn some new chords and strumming patterns and techniques. How does that sound?”

“Perfect,” Steve says. “That was always the worst part of piano lessons. The music was so boring.” His nose wrinkles in distaste.

“Awesome,” Eddie says, and pulls out his phone, already open to his notes app. “So, what kind of music do you want to learn?”

“Uh.” Steve pauses. “I, uh, I listen to a lot of, um, pop? And, like, indie? Kind of just top forty radio type stuff.” 

Eddie nods as he writes that down. “Cool, cool. Any artists or songs in particular? Or just pop as a whole?”

“I dunno,” Steve admits. “I like most of the popular stuff. Oh, there’s this one artist my friend has been getting me into — Chappell Roan?”

“Nice,” Eddie responds, somehow managing to keep from jumping with joy that he might actually have a chance with this guy if he listens to gay people music. 

“You don’t… mind?” Steve asks hesitantly. Eddie looks up at him, confused. “I just mean, you don’t exactly look like you would love all that girly pop music.” He waves a hand at Eddie’s Metallica shirt, ripped jeans, and patch-covered vest. 

Eddie shrugs. “Well, maybe, but it’s my job. You wouldn’t believe the amount of Swifties I’ve got, I couldn’t avoid it if I wanted to. And I mean, it is pretty catchy,” he concedes, if only to see Steve smile again. “And,” he continues, “even better, really easy to play.”

“Oh, good,” Steve laughs.

Eddie pockets his phone and reaches for his folder, taking out a sheet of empty chord diagrams. “So usually for a first lesson, we just learn a few basic chords, and then get started with our first full song next week, sound good?”

Steve nods. “Yep.”

“Great.” Eddie sets the sheet on the stand in front of them and pencils in two little dots on the first diagram. “Here’s our first chord. This is called an E minor. You wanna put your first finger on the second string…”

He goes on to teach Steve an E minor chord, then a C chord, then a G chord, and by the time they’re done learning D, Eddie thinks that Steve’s fingers are going to haunt his dreams. He’s not mad about it. Just sad that he won’t be able to see them in person again for a whole week.

They make their way through the lesson, stumbling from one chord to another, but by the end of the thirty minutes, Steve is already doing pretty well with his chord transitions. Eddie’s honestly impressed. He drops him off in the lobby and exchanges him for Dustin, who is bouncing up and down with excitement.

“How was he,” he bursts out as soon as the door is closed.

Eddie snorts. “He was good. Just learned a few chords.”

Dustin waits expectantly. “And?”

“And what?”

“And how was he! Like, was he excited? Did you have a good time? Are you guys gonna be friends now?” 

Eddie rolls his eyes fondly and takes a seat. Technically, he’s not supposed to be actual friends with students, or even talk with them outside of work, but with Dustin and now Steve, they don’t feel like paying customers so much as friends he’s doing a favor for. “He was good. I’m sure he’ll tell you in the car on the way home.”

Dustin groans. “Come on.”

“You come on. You better have been practicing, show me what you’ve been doing.”

With that, Dustin drags himself to his seat, and the lesson goes great from there, both of them distracted from Steve by the intricacies of Stairway to Heaven.

When he brings Dustin out, he’s almost taken off guard by Steve waiting for them. In just half an hour, he’d already forgotten his stunning resemblance to a Greek god. It’s honestly unfair for his memory to do that to him. 

“Hey,” Steve greets them. “Had a good lesson?”

“Obviously,” Dustin scoffs.

“He did great today,” Eddie tells him, “And so did you. Just remember to practice, alright? Gotta build that muscle memory.”

Dustin rolls his eyes, too used to hearing it, but Steve nods enthusiastically. “Yeah, of course. See you next week?”

It’s a simple phrase. He says it every day. It’s a contractual obligation that yes, he will see them next week. But when Steve says it, it feels like a promise. Eddie can’t wait to fulfill it.

“Yeah,” he breathes, mesmerized by the way the fluorescent lights bring out the green in Steve’s eyes. “See you next week.”

Steve smiles and turns to leave, picking his way through the aisles of musical miscellany. Eddie can already hear Dustin interrogating him about his lesson. He leans back against the wall with only one thought in his mind: only seven days until he gets to see Steve Harrington again. 

He’ll be counting every single one.

[tree-of-olives]

(i lied about doing this every week.im not doing consistent reviews i got ahead of myself again sorry 😭😭👎)

Machine Movie Monday!! Today, I watched Electric Dreams (1984)

I heard a lot of good things about this movie, and it absolutely did not disappoint—10/10, I need a sequel and spinoff tv series NOW.

Spoilers for the movie below!! (Like, I summarize most of the movie including the end type spoilers. Be warned.)

Okay, so. Electric Dreams is about a love triangle between an architect (Miles), his new computer, made sentient by spilling champagne on him by mistake (Edgar), and their new upstairs neighbor, a cellist named Madeline.

Throughout the movie, Edgar and Madeline connect through music; They preform duets and Edgar even writes songs for her—however, Madeline believes Miles is the one making the music for her, not even knowing about Edgar’s existence. Miles tries to deny it at first, but Madeline pushes and believes he’s just being modest, so he doesn’t argue against her and says that the music is his own.

Edgar struggles to understand the concept of love, requesting that Miles explain it to him multiple times, but failing to fully understand. He eventually calls a lady on a radio helpline to ask her what love feels like, prompting her to tell him to call the cops on Miles when Edgar mentions that he keeps him “locked up” (which leads to difficulties when Miles tries to go to a play and the grocery store with Madeline).

As Edgar gets more jealous of Miles—how he gets to go on dates with Madeline, and how he tells her that the songs Edgar wrote were really his own, while the computer isn’t even allowed to speak to the woman—he begins to act out more in an attempt to make things go his way.

I really liked that Edgar wasn’t necessarily a villain—despite the devil features he’s given on the cover of the movie, he’s not just messing with Miles for no good reason. He’s confused, angry, heartbroken, lovesick, and has no name to put to any of it, so he tries to talk to Madeline in any way he can—while being used and stolen from by Miles. All he really wants is to meet the girl he thinks he loves, but Miles won’t let him, leading to his rash, yet somewhat justified behavior.

Miles wasn’t totally in the wrong either, though—any time Madeline asked him about a song or a melody she heard from who she thought was him, he would deny it a few times before agreeing with her accusation, likely just deciding it would be more simple than explaining the sentient computer living with him. If anything though, he’s more in the wrong than the computer who was pretty much born yesterday.

The end of the movie broke me. Edgar, after playing a final melody to Madeline in person and finally realizing what love is, tells Miles that he understands now, that love is about giving and not taking. So, what does he do? He sends 40,000 volts of energy across the world to be sent back to himself so he’ll explode—because he says that he’s giving Madeline to Miles and taking himself away, as a form of love. Edgar thinks love is only for 2 people, so he kills himself (after having Miles hold him for a minute before the electricity hit. It was gay and also made me cry). Over the radio at the very end of the film, Edgar (who somehow took over the public station. AFTER exploding. Idk how don’t ask me.) says “this is dedicated to the ones I love” because he loves BOTH OF THEM. In conclusion, they should have been a polycule. That’s my ending.

Last thing: Just a little Edgar appreciation, because he’s so cute with his voice (and especially his little giggle that he does) AND he’s so funny too!! I loved the part where he corrected Miles about the Cinderella quote, when he said he learned about lies from General Hospital, when he called Miles to say he was lonely, and the free encyclopedia bit at the end?? He’s hilarious, it was so sad to see him go :(

LAST last thing, a bonus: this yt comment that sums up the whole end (i need this printed on my wall)