#and for the final time (yes truly) these will be the final looks in the story :] the fun part will be seeing how they evolved in the story-

[drunkinyourbenz]

YOU DON'T REALLY NEED A BREAK

☆ SYNOPSIS: in which billie is stressed, so naturally she needs you more than ever. unbenkownst to her, she takes it too far. ☆ PART ONE ☆ RELATIONSHIP: dom!billie eilish x fem!reader ☆ WARNINGS: SMUT, use of safe word, angst, fluff, comfort, mean billie, reader is a little bratty, situationship/fwb, angry sex, crying, strap-on, edging, degradation, petnames, name calling (slut, whore, brat, etc.), choking, hair pulling, humiliation, dumbification, toxic dynamic (except less so because billie's realising things hehe), unedited. ☆ REQUESTED: yes, by a bunch of anons ☆ NOTE: y'all read my mind with these reqeusts i was already thinking of writing a part two abt exactly this and you all had the same idea!! sorry this took so long lmao exams are kicking my ass :/ this is very unedited sorry for any mistakes i read it through once and then posted it lmao read part one first for it to make more sense ☆ WORD COUNT: 3.5k words

billie hadn’t texted you in a little over a week, and you almost thought that she wasn’t ever going to again. the last time you’d seen her had ended like all of the other nights, she’d cleaned you up and then left you alone in the silent hotel room. usually, she’d text afterwards, just to make sure you were feeling okay, but there was nothing. the last text between the two of you was when you’d asked where she was when she was late that night. 

the two of you normally hooked up at least a few times a week, and you’d never actually gone a week without her since you started this four months ago.

you thought the worst: someone else had replaced you as her favourite. you’d always thought it would happen, but you thought you might have a few more times before it was over. but from the looks of it, you weren’t ever going to see her again. 

which was fine, obviously. you didn’t care—or that’s what you kept telling yourself. you had agreed to a no-commitment thing when you two started whatever this was, and she could do whatever she wanted. it stung a little bit that she wasn’t doing you, but ultimately, there was nothing you could do about it. 

so when you got home from a long day, thoroughly exhausted, your plan for the night was to hide in your bed and watch 2000s tv shows until you passed out. you showered, taking your time to wash your hair and feeling your tense and tired muscles relax under the hot stream of water. once out of the shower, you changed into some comfortable clothes, flopping down on your bed in relief. you were ready to finally just cuddle up under the blankets like you’d been wishing you could do all day.

about eleven minutes into the gilmore girls episode you were up to—rewatching for the hundredth time—your phone pinged, and you almost just ignored it, but you picked it up with a groan. 

your eyes widened when you saw it was from billie, the last number you expected to text. your heart almost skipped a beat.

billie: come over?

you paused for a moment, conflicted. you truly were exhausted, and it had been such a long day, and all you wanted to do was sleep, you honestly weren’t in the mood for what you knew billie would want. but… it was billie. 

so, inevitably, you ended up at her door. you were still in the clothes you’d changed into the moment you got home, just some comfortable sweatpants and a top—billie wouldn’t care about what you wore, she wanted you to be comfortable. plus, you knew full well that you wouldn’t be wearing them for long. 

you knocked on the door, and it opened within mere seconds, almost as if billie had been waiting by the door for you to show up. from the look on her face, you wouldn’t be surprised. she looked stressed, angry, and desperate. you looked her up and down, your eyes settling on her face. she was wearing a pretty similar outfit to you, sweatpants that hung low on her hips, the “HIT ME HARD AND SOFT” waistband of her boxers peeking out, and a white tank top that you could see the slight hint of her nipples peeking through. her arms were bare and your eyes seemed to gravitate towards the toned muscles there, which never failed to make your brain short circuit. paired with the noticeable outline of her strap in her pants, it was almost too much for you to take. 

you noticed the way her eyebrows were slightly furrowed and her eyes were narrowed in a firm gaze, the frustration was clear on her face. “rough day?” 

she groaned, and when she spoke, her voice had a slight rasp to it, “you have no idea.” 

the two of you fell into silence, just staring at each other for a few long moments. it wasn’t a comfortable silence, it was one that hung in the air around you, a claustrophobic silence. there were words left unspoken between the two of you that poked their heads around the corner but never truly revealed itself, it left you wondering when it would snap, but it never did. the two of you stared at each other for what felt like lifetimes, you waiting for billie to do something, and billie simply savouring the feeling of having you in front of her again. 

finally, she spoke, her voice still holding that same raspiness—which alone could get you on your knees for her. “it’s pathetic that you’re here so fast, considering i ghosted you for a week. you’re just a desperate slut for me, aren’t you? not that you’d be good for anything else.”

the bluntness of her words sent a chill down your spine, this was exactly what you’d expected. why else would billie text you after a week of not talking, if not to use her favourite girl? 

billie continued talking before you could even get a word in, it was like she’d read your thoughts. she leaned closer, her lips brushing your ear as she spoke, “you know i could just call over any of my girls and they’d be here in a heartbeat, and they’d be exactly the same. pathetic, desperate, and begging.”

you raised an eyebrow at her words. you knew what she was doing, trying to wind you up, get you to act out. you had honestly intended to just be her good girl tonight because you were so tired, but you knew she adored it when you acted up. so you spoke with the bratty tone you knew she loved.

“sure you could. but none of them are here now, are they? you called me.” 

the brattiness, especially when she was in a mood like this, made her eyes light up. your brattiness was her favourite thing, she loved it when you gave her an excuse to be harsher and meaner than she was on a normal day. so, when you talked back to her, she lets out a dark laugh. “don’t fuckin’ test me, mama.” 

you let a soft scoff fall past your lips, “or what?” 

“you know i’ll put you in your place, i’ve done it before.” and then you realised, this was what set you apart. this was why you were her favourite. you weren’t afraid to act up, so she didn’t have to be afraid of taking it too far. she could push you, because you pushed her. “maybe you should. you want to blow off steam, don’t you?”

at your words, her lips twitched upwards into a slight, barely noticeable smirk. you knew she would be taking them as a challenge, “you’re gonna have to drop the bratty attitude eventually, mamas.”

“maybe you should make me.”

that was exactly what she wanted—she wanted you to keep going, keep winding her up. she wanted you to give her a reason to pin you down and tear you apart; and you gave her that reason with that simple suggestion.

she took your wrist in her hand, her grip almost painful as she tugged you behind her to her bedroom. the air felt different than it normally did when you were here, everything felt so tense. her entire body language screamed irritated, dominant. but it wasn’t the normal kind of dominance she normally exuded. billie always had this kind of casual dominance that just hung around her, her presence was just effortlessly assertive. this is different, she had a look in her eyes you hadn’t seen before—she was always mean, but this was her normal level of mean times ten. 

she was clearly in a whole new headspace, not one you were familiar with. this wasn’t just dominant, wasn’t just mean, no, it was something else. she wasn’t just a little stressed, she didn’t just have a little bit of frustration she needed to take out on you, this was worse. it was an almost animalistic kind of energy, one that’s so raw, so intense, you knew you wouldn’t be able to walk by the time she was finished with you.

she took one of the belts from her merch from her dresser, shoving you backwards onto the bed and tying your hands to the headboard. she tugged it slightly, making sure it was firm but not too tight. it sent a rush of excitement through you, and you knew she felt the same. 

“gonna use you, mamas,” you knew from those words that she was going to absolutely ruin you, and you could tell by the look in her eyes.

sure enough, no more than five minutes later, she had her strap deep inside of you and was pounding into you at a bruising pace. the strap was bigger than the one she usually used, and it made you ache with a constant stinging pain. she hadn’t given you any time to adjust, and had started as she meant to go on. you were naked and on her bed, with her on top of you, fucking into you at a brutal pace. your hands were still tied up with her belt and the ache it brought only amplified the pleasure. one of her hands had your hair in a firm grasp, solely to make you feel the sting of pain it brought. she wanted to bring you to tears. her other hand grabbed a handful of your ass, squeezing it before letting her hand fall down on your ass in a harsh slap. 

the intense pleasure of her cock inside you and her finger circling your clit was a perfect contrast to the pain her hands brought you, and a trail of moans fell from your lips. “b-billie-” 

a mean, almost cruel laugh left her lips, “god, you’re such a slut.” another slap landed on your ass, “it’s pathetic, really. i mean, i can ghost you for as long as i want,” another slap. “and you’re still at my door in five minutes as soon as i ask.” slap, “pathetic fuckin’ whore.” 

you whined, which simply made her laugh. in her own sadistic way, she was enjoying this. 

this continued for what felt like hours—maybe it was, you had no idea. every time you got slightly close to your orgasm, she’d pull out, tugging you away from the edge. by now, you had tears rolling down your cheeks, and the fine line between pleasure and pain was slowly but surely being crossed. 

“fuckin’ take it,” she breathed. “god, you look so dumb around my cock. all you’re good for, hm? spreading your legs and taking it like the slut you are?”

you whimpered, and she simply slapped your ass again. 

this continued for much longer, and she wasn’t even mad at you for being bratty, not in the slightest. she just needed an outlet for her bad mood, and that was what you were. merely a way for her to release her frustrations. 

you let out a choked sob, your body trembling, “billie, please, i can’t—” 

you knew she wasn’t doing this because she had anything against you, there had been something deeply wrong with her day. she had never been this downright cruel before, and you knew her well enough to know that she wouldn’t act like this without reason. but it was too much, and you weren’t sure how much more you could take. she hadn’t asked for your colour even once tonight, and that thought alone was putting you on edge. sure, her being rough turned you on, but right now it was scaring you just as much. this was darker than you’d experienced in all four months of your friends with benefits situation with her, and you weren’t sure if you liked it. 

you felt the strap hit your most sensitive spot, and you let out a sound that was a mix of a moan and a sob. “billie–” 

“like being used by me, yeah? taking everything i give you like a slut?”

you weren’t sure when you realised that you actually weren’t enjoying it anymore, but it was obvious all of a sudden. it hurt, and not in a good way. you were exhausted from both your day and the sheer amount of time she’d been edging you for. the way your arms had been tied to the bed for so long was making them ache painfully, and at some point down the line, your tears of pleasure had turned into tears of pain. 

you normally had the safety net of knowing that she was paying attention to your signals, knowing that she didn’t want to hurt you. but it didn’t even feel like she was aware of what she was doing, she was so caught up in herself and drowning out her own frustrations. you hated that lack of awareness, it was like she wouldn’t even notice if she actually hurt you. 

she looked like she was about to speak again, so before she could get out another degrading comment, you gasped out, “red, billie–”

whatever half formed sentence billie had been about to say died on her tongue, your gasped words making her freeze inside of you. her mind suddenly went silent, her frustrated thoughts about her day coming to a halt as she looked down at you with wide, almost scared eyes. you’d never actually used your safeword—obviously it was something that the two of you had communicated, but billie had never expected to actually go too far, to push you to that. she was meant to check in on your colours, and she felt an intense pang of guilt when she realised that she hadn’t done that. 

as she looked at you, noticing the tears and the exhausted expression, as well as the way your wrists were visibly sore from being tied for so long, she felt a sense of dread. she was overcome with shame and she didn’t know what to do about it. her breath caught in her throat as she processed what was going on.

“shit, i’m so sorry.” after a moment, she shook herself out of her paralysed shock, she would’ve pulled out immediately, but she was aware that that would just hurt you even more. so she leaned over, quickly untying the belt around your wrists and letting it fall to the ground beside the bed. she massaged your wrists gently for a moment, trying to soothe you. 

her hands moved over your tense muscles, trying to ease some of the soreness. she brushed some of your hair out of your eyes, her touch soft and cautious. “i-i’m so sorry, baby. i never wanted to push you that far.”

you knew that. you knew that she would never actually intend to hurt you, you knew that she wasn’t herself. you didn’t need her to over explain herself, you just needed her to hold you. the hand that had been pushing your hair out of your eyes moved to stroke your cheek, and you could see the intense guilt in her eyes. 

“i’m gonna pull out now, okay?” her voice trembled slightly as she spoke, eyes fixed on your face. 

you simply nodded, hissing slightly in pain as she gently pulled the strap out of you. billie felt her stomach twist at your obvious pain, knowing that she had done that. “i know, i’m so sorry.”

once she was out of you, she climbed off you and gently shifted you so you were sitting further up the bed, propped up on the pillows slightly. her mind was clearly racing with what she could do to help, “do you need anything? water, food, whatever?”

you shook your head softly. if your brain hadn’t been so exhausted, you probably would have thought more rationally about this. but you didn’t, and you didn’t once consider the limited affection in your dynamic. “can you just hold me?” 

billie didn’t hesitate, she just nodded instantly. “yeah, of course i can.” she joined you further up the bed, pulling you into her arms. she held you against her chest gently, her fingers soothingly running through your hair while her hand rubbed your back softly. 

you could hear her heartbeat, it was fast and a clear reminder of how stressed she was. you spoke softly, “it’s okay, seriously.”

but it wasn’t okay, not to billie. she had hurt you, she had pushed you too far, even when you were already clearly tired. she should’ve known better, and the guilt was weighing down from her and eating her up from the inside. not to mention she was terrified that this might be your last straw, that you might never want to see her again, that she might have broken your trust. wondering why she cared so much about her casual fling’s feelings was something that would have left her perplexed on any other day, but it was not currently at the forefront of her mind. “but–”

“it’s okay.” you said firmly, “i wouldn’t be asking you to hold me if i was uncomfortable around you.” 

those words seemed to ease billie’s nerves slightly, and she tightened her arms around you, holding you close. after a few minutes of this, she gently pulled you to sit in your lap, and you shifted so that your head was buried in the crook of her neck. you could feel her breathing on your skin, and you could feel her chest rising and falling with each breath. it was incredibly grounding, the feeling of just being close to her. ever so slowly, you felt your breathing calm and your heart rate slow down. 

at least an hour passed as you were just laying there in her arms, your breathing syncing with hers as her fingers ran through your hair. it was a foreign thing, for the two of you to be this close without sex, but it felt so right. it was like you were made to be in her arms, despite the situation that had brought you here. you could sense her guilt, and if you’d been a bit more aware of what was going on, you probably would’ve realised that there was something more behind that guilt—something deeper than just feeling bad for pushing you. but you were unaware, it wasn’t really what took place at the front of your mind. 

the room was filled with only the sound of both of you breathing, and your mind was taken over by the calming feeling of her playing with your hair. after a while, she broke the silence. “d’you wanna borrow something to wear?” 

you couldn’t deny that you liked the feeling of this skin to skin contact, but you also knew that it was a good idea. so you nodded quietly, and she delicately lifted you off her lap and set you down on the bed. she walked over and grabbed you an oversized t-shirt to wear, and she walked into the ensuite to grab a damp cloth. she came back over and gently wiped your thighs with the cloth, at this point you didn’t flinch too much because it had been so long. she held out the t-shirt, which you recognised as one she had worn at some point.

“arms up, darling.” that was a new pet name, but you didn’t comment. instead, you just lifted your arms and allowed her to slip the top over your head. it smelt like her, which somehow just added to the comfort. 

soon enough, she was back on the bed and you were back in her arms. she was laying down and you were laying with her, partly on top of her and partly just cuddled up to her side. this hadn’t happened before between the two of you, but you certainly weren’t complaining. her bed was comfortable, and her arms around you felt like a cocoon you never wanted to grow out of. 

gradually, your breathing started to slow as the exhaustion caught up on you, both from the recent events and your already tiring day. your head slumped onto her shoulder as a yawn fell from your lips, to which billie smiled softly. 

“do you want to stay the night?” 

that was not something you’d ever expected billie to say, but you hummed softly against her shoulder. “if that’s okay, yeah.”

you could’ve sworn you heard a sigh of relief from billie, “of course it’s okay, please stay. i want you to stay.” 

and so you did. you stayed that night, wrapped up in billie’s arms. it was so new, but it felt so right. that night had been an irreversible shift in your relationship, for both obvious reasons and more hidden ones. you knew that the two of you would have to talk about some stuff in the morning, and you knew you’d have to set some more boundaries. but you also felt closer to her than you ever had, somehow. 

little did you know, that night was just as  meaningful for billie as it was for you. she had had a revelation, one that she would likely keep to herself for a while, although there was no doubt you would find out eventually. 

but there was no doubt that billie wanted you to stay, longer than she’d ever thought.

[heroesneedalancer]

Post by u/DJConvex to r/AskReddit on Nov 6, 2024:

People who work in DC for the government, what is the vibe?

Comment by u/Meduselde:

Resigned. We are generally very good about not discussing politics in the workplace but the vibe was obviously off. My more conservative colleagues who were happy Trump won were extremely respectful. There wasn't smug gloating and they were very obviously being cognizant of others' feelings even more than normal. It was extremely appreciated. Ultimately, we survived the first administration and will survive again. It's not necessarily Trump who was the problem last time, but his inexperienced senior appointees. The world isn't going to end nor do I feel democracy will crumble at his feet. It's just gonna be chaotic, and that's the worst part as a worker bee. At least with Biden we had consistent leadership and clear guidance, even if you didn't agree with it. Under Trump, your "yes man" says "no" and that's how you rotate through four SECDEFs. But as a sign of hope, it also means that even the most loyal DO say "no" sometimes, especially when businessmen are finally confronted with the realities of governance.

They chill out REAL quick on their dismantlement plans when they see the work these agencies do and what's at stake if they don't stand up for their people. It's easy to say you will dissolve or cut funding for something when you do not truly understand it. And as much as people say we can ALL be magically replaced with "yes men," even the most stone-hearted appointees recognize that the last thing you ever want is to lose the entirety of your skilled workforce. They learn it's best to get the skilled people to work towards their vision and not hire enthusiastic but stupid people to attempt the same. If they do, they risk looking inept themselves. You don't get skilled federal workers in a blue portion of the country to work for you by being a fucking Nazi. We're cranky and will make your life hell if you behave like that. I'm not talking about some sort of organized resistance movement because we feel like it. That's wrong. But just imagine hundreds of thousands pissed off at you. If that's the Deep State at work, then we aspire to be the quality of swampy Deep State your racist uncle thinks we are. If implementing dictatorship was that easy, Trump would have taken out every agency his last term and fired us all. I am actually extremely proud of the resiliency and checks and balances that the American federal government has in place to prevent most of the shit he says he can achieve by waving a magic executive wand. (He's done this once. He knows he can't. He just lets the majority of the population believe he can.) Us feds will make it, as we always have.

And we will live up to our oath to serve the Constitution, not a president. We serve every official of every party faithfully within the bounds of legalities and our oath. Working for administrations you may not like it's just a part of the job that we all recognize. Public servants at the federal level generally hold that extremely close to their heart. The ones that don't (I'm talking to YOU, WaPo "informants!") put us to shame. We're just tired, man. I can't believe it has already been four years since the last round. There's going to be some waves, no doubt, and some people definitely are going to be hurt at upper levels. But grab a Twisted Tea and buckle up. We'll at least pretend it's meant to be a roller coaster and ride it. TL;Dr Democracy is not going to die. But a drink and "thanks" would go a long way.

EDIT: Woah! I woke up this morning and am surprised by how much traction this got. I'm sad that this was the most positive thing some people had read. I'm sorry it's been that bad. I am not predicting outcomes. I have no idea how it's going to go. It's going to be bloody. But the hope I am trying to get across is that we are a resilient people and a group of (generally) good people. It will be okay, okay? The people that really make or break your daily life are those around you and your local government. Hold those around you close to your heart and always be kind. Everybody go outside, take a deep breath, eat something you love, and hug your grandma (even if she voted differently). The world is still turning and the sky is still blue. Being surrounded by spiraling anger on the internet only makes us the losers, not those we disagree with. The only thing we can do right now is wait. We have a few months to cool off! Enjoy your holidays!

EDIT 2: I think everybody has forgotten about this, but go check out the memorandum signed by the Joint Chiefs of Staff at the end of Trump's first term after January 6. The feds basically said "fuck that" when people were scared that the government was going to turn the military on them to help Trump in some way. While it was specifically addressed to our armed forces members, it was spread throughout the DOD and beyond. Partially as a result of federal workers' fear (not actually ordered, to be crystal clear) that they would be asked to turn on citizens. This sentiment was echoed across the entire government via internal emails (from Trump appointees!) as well to the civilian workforce. That's one of my proudest moments as an American and why I know we will get through it.

Emphasis mine. Link to original Reddit Post. Link to an article about the aforementioned memorandum signed by the Joint Chiefs of Staff.

Don't give up. We will get through this.

[moonstruck-muses]

birthday sex w sunghoon <3

- 🐰

HAPPY BELATED MY BELOVED BOOMF!! I feel so guilty this is so late but....well..enjoy xoxo

You had a peculiar relationship to your birthday. It’s not that you hated it, you just didn’t care for it. You didn’t people to be extra nice to you and treat you special one day of the year, if they weren’t going to bother the other 364 days. Sunghoon, however, was obsessed with you, and while yes he worshipped you every day, he took your birthday as the chance to truly go all out. And you couldn’t help but admit the fact that you were a little flustered by it. Sunghoon had refused to divulge any details leading up to the day, no matter how much you whined for any sort of clue. 

When the day finally came, your alarm was a serious of slow kisses across your face—your nose, your forehead, your cheeks, gentle pecks at your list. You swat away the force invading your dreams grumbling as you turn over. 

“Shhhh I’m making out with the hottest man I’ve ever seen in my dreams,” you mumble.

“Ouch, I guess I’ll just go fuck myself,” Sunghoon teases against your ear. 

“Fuck me instead” you yawn out as you stretch and wrap Sunghoon in your arms. 

“Hey now, you can’t be spoiling all your birthday surprises so easily,” he says with a chuckle. 

You force your eyes open against the soft morning light and grin into the face of your boyfriend. 

“Happy Birthday, Baby.” He greets you. 

“Blehhhh,” you stick your tongue out and shake your head while you stretch. “Don’t remind me that I’m a year older.”

“And somehow, you’re still looking younger.” 

You snort, although you find Sunghoon’s cheesiness endearing. You’d give him the sun, and he’d give you the moon if you both could. 

*** 

Sunghoon let you laze in bed, but not too long. Just long enough to eat the extravagant brunch he made. There was itinerary he had planned—none of which you were privy to. But after you got ready, he took you by the hand, first leading you to your favorite cafe for a drink before taking you the ice skating rink. Both of you were former skaters, but this time the rink felt like your personal playground, both of you colliding into each other in giggling fits. The hours seemed to slip by without you noticed. Your phone consistently was lighting up with streams of messages from your friends, but you barely had time to respond, Sunghoon kept you busy. After the rink, was of course shopping, and then it was late enough in the day, you could call it for an early dinner. 

“I’m hungry, Hoon, “ you pouted. 

“Okay, okay, we’ll have dinner soon. Our reservation is at 6.” You checked the time on your phone—5:30. You recognized the road he was leading you towards—it was your favorite restaurant. It wasn’t frilly—in fact, it was very lowkey. But you had dozens and dozens of memories that you had made throughout the years, and the food there was nearly as comforting as your mom’s food from home. The two of you managed to get seated a little earlier in a booth near the back, it was early enough on a Saturday evening, you were just beating the dinner rush. 

“You’re always so prepared,” you praised Sunghoon as the server both poured you a glass of water. You rest your chin in the palm of your hand, batting your eyelashes. The dim lighting and soft music made the rest of the world fall away, so it was just the two of you, dancing in a snow globe. 

“Only the best for you,” Sunghoon responded, and you felt his leg rub up against yours underneath the table. “Did you have a good day?” He asked in follow up. 

“I spent it with you, of course I had a good day.”

“No, but be honest was it fun?” “I think it was the most fun I’ve had on my birthday in a really long time.” “Good,” Sunghoon said, and he reached out to squeeze your hand.

*** The rest of dinner was perfect, and you were happily buzzed by the time you made it back to your apartment. Sunghoon opened the door and you fell inside, your hand wrapped tightly around his arm. 

“I love you, Sunghoon,” you declared happily. 

“I love you too, Y/N,” He responded and pressed a kiss to your lips. “Do you want dessert, by the way?” 

Your brows furrowed. “Not really—“ He cuts you off with another kiss. 

“Well I want dessert,” he whispers against your mouth and his hands are sliding up underneath your dress, gripping into your thighs as he presses you against the wall, dragging his lips across your jaw and down your neck. You don’t fight the soft moan that comes out of you, and you run your hands up in his hair, happy to have the night go a little longer. 

You and Sunghoon are a tangle of limbs and flying clothes as he guides the two of you to your bedroom, falling down on top of you onto the plush sheets. His mouth travels up and down you like a starved man, luxuriating upon every taste of you, and he hold you tight with every twitch and roll of your body against him. 

“May I?” He asks, voice husky, eyes wild as his hands slide to your panties, and you frantically nod. 

Sunghoon palms your center, and the friction against your core elicits a gasp. 

“Don't tease me," You rasp. 

“Ah ah Ah," Sunghoon chides. “You let me take care of everything.” He’s slow and steady, drawing out every moan and gasp. His tongue expertly glides against your wet folds, lapping up every drop of sweetness he pulls from you and fter your first orgasm, he decides it isn’t enough. 

“Let me in, baby,” he whispers against you, eyes glazed with desire as his mouth still glistens from you. You look up from underneath him and even though your body is exhausted, you nod. 

“I want you, Hoon, I want to feel you inside me so bad.” “I want you, Y/N,” he pleads, desperate to feel one with you. And you’re so wet, that when he wets his girthy tip against you, rubbing it up and down your soaked cunt, it slips right in. 

Your eyes rolls back from the sensation, and Sunghoon curses under his breath, gripping the headboard to steady himself as he pushes into you inch by inch. 

“You’re so warm and perfect for me,” He croons and all you can think about is how he smells so sweet, his lips so pink, and his touch so gentle as he rolls his hips against yours. 

“Hold on tight, okay baby?” He says softly, and you obediently dig your nails into his back, wrapping your legs around his and squeezing tight. He feels it, feels your pussy tighten around his cock and he buries his face into your neck, trying to pace himself as his body tenses. Sunghoon nips and presses soft kisses to the tender skin at your neck, all the meanwhile picking up pace. He deftly grabs one of the pillows and sweeps it under your hips, elevating you, and you cry out his name as the new angle hits harder and deeper. 

“I want to look at your face while you cum,” Sunghoon whispers, and the dark husk of his tone brings you to the edge then and there. 

“Cum with me love,” you beg, and Sunghoon wraps his hands around your hips, squeezing tight as he thrusts into you relentless. He pushes himself up a bit and brings a finger to your clit, and you gasp, feeling pleasure in every single nerve ending. 

“Mmm—Hoon!” You gasp, “I’m close I’m close, I’m gonna come, I”m gonna come I’m gonna—!” You break off babbling, and Sunghoon collapses on top of you as he reaches his high and you unravel together on your bed at the same time, holding each other tight as you come down from ecstasy. 

“Happy Birthday my love,” Sunghoon says with a hoarse laugh as he presses a kiss to your forehead. “Happy, happy, happy birthday.”

[billybutcherrtrash]

Happy Anniversary

CW: Addiction

Just a little thing I thought of after them forgetting his birthday.

You’d left the cupcake on his desk with a small post it that said “Happy Anniversary.” and a small heart as your signature. You’d just left it at that. Sitting at your desk you went about your work, almost forgetting the gesture until you noticed him sitting across from you at exactly 8AM. You pretended not to notice his brown eyes noticing the cupcake and his perfect hands lifting the post it. You could see his confusion as he looked around trying to place what day it was and what the note meant. Finally his eyes met yours and you offered a small smile.

“What’s this?” Spencer asked, smiling back.

At first you thought he might be kidding, but you could read his literal uncertainty. “Wait…you really don’t know?”

“No…? What anniversary?”

Getting up, you walked over and sat on the corner of his desk. He gazed up at you, anticipating your answer.

“I will give you a clue. It’s the eighteenth anniversary of something.”

“Eighteen…eighteen…no, we met 20 years ago…eighteen…” He glanced at the calendar staring at the date. His expression changed when realization hit him. “Oh…oh! Wow. I guess I did forget.”

“Happy eighteen years of sobriety.” You said softly.

“Thank you, Y/N. I never would have thought anyone would remember that.”

“I’m good with dates. Especially important ones.”

He stood up and stepped closer, hugging you gently. “It really means a lot. Truly.”

You hugged him back, smiling up at him. Maybe the hug was lasting a little too long, but neither of you seemed to mind. Finally he stepped back, shifting a little more awkwardly.

“Speaking of dates…” Spencer said.

“Yes”. You answered without a second thought.

“Really?”

“Yeah…I’ll go on a date with you.” You smiled widely.

“Okay…awesome…tonight?”

You smiled a little wider than expected and nodded. “Yes. Sounds good.”

Both of you sat back down at your desks as the others began to file in. Morgan noticed the cupcake sitting on Spencer’s desk.

“What’s the occasion, pretty boy? Did we miss your birthday again?” He asked.

“No, no, just a little gesture from a friend”. Reid shook his head, glancing back at you.

“Okay, well tell your friend to bring extra next time.” Morgan joked as he sat down.

The two of you just looked at each other and smiled.

[novaursa]

The North's Fiercest Catch

- Summary: You challenge Cregan to hunt down a dragon. 

- Paring: velaryon!reader/Cregan Stark

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround @daeryna @melsunshine @21-princess

Snow clings to your boots as you trudge through the wintry woodlands of the North, the biting chill cutting through even the thickest furs you’ve borrowed from House Stark. Winterfell is alive today with excitement, for Cregan Stark himself is leading the hunt, and you've persuaded your brother to join. Jace looks delighted, eagerly exchanging talk with the Stark men, laughing and jesting with a camaraderie that comes easily to him. Cregan leads, with his watchful gaze cutting through the snow-covered forest as he speaks in low, firm tones that captivate those around him. It’s hard to ignore the sense of command he exudes, a quality you’ve come to appreciate more and more since arriving.

The North’s chill is harsher than any cold you’ve felt on Dragonstone, and yet, you find warmth in the glances you steal at Cregan, the Warden of the North. His gaze meets yours often, and each time, there’s a flicker of something unspoken—a fire beneath the ice. But today, you’re in the mood for more than just glances. A bold idea takes root, and as you survey the surrounding woods, your lips curl into a mischievous smile.

"Cregan," you call, pulling your horse up beside his. He looks over, raising an eyebrow at the challenge in your voice.

“Aye, my lady?” His voice is deep, grounded like the Northern earth beneath you. You can hear the amusement in his tone, as though he’s already bracing himself for whatever scheme you’re concocting.

You tilt your chin, feigning a casual air. “Tell me, what does House Stark find worthy of a hunt?”

Cregan’s grin widens slightly. “Stags, bears, even wolves,” he answers, glancing to his men. “Northern beasts fierce enough to keep even our best hunters on edge.”

You shake your head, feigning disappointment. “Not fierce enough, then.”

He raises an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? And what would satisfy a Valyrian?”

“Dragons,” you say, watching him with a glint in your eye. “The kind that can outmatch a wolf in speed, wits, and fire.”

Your words hang in the air, catching Cregan—and the men—off guard. Even Jace has stopped mid-sentence, staring at you as if you’d grown another head.

“You want me to hunt a dragon?” Cregan asks, his voice a mixture of skepticism and intrigue. The men around him exchange uneasy glances, clearly uncertain about your jest.

“Yes,” you say, holding his gaze, a slight smile on your lips. “A dragon of flesh and blood, scales and fire… and daring enough to let you try.”

Jace chuckles, crossing his arms with an amused shake of his head. “Sister, you’ve truly lost your wits. You’re offering yourself as prey?”

"Only if Cregan thinks he can catch me," you reply, with a taunting edge in your voice.

A murmur ripples through the hunting party, a mix of laughter and disbelief. But Cregan’s eyes remain fixed on you, studying you with a careful intensity that sends a thrill through your spine.

“Tell me, Princess Y/N,” he says, leaning slightly toward you, his voice low and filled with the promise of a challenge, “are you daring me to chase you on foot? Or do you intend to make this a true hunt?”

His question makes the corners of your mouth twitch. “Well, where’s the thrill in staying on the ground? My dragon, Gallaex, is nearby. You’ll have to catch me on his wings.”

His eyes flash with the prospect of the hunt, and for a moment, you think you’ve finally managed to break through that Northern reserve. He gives a quiet chuckle, nodding in acceptance of your terms.

“And how will I know you won’t burn me to a crisp if I get close?”

“Consider it part of the challenge,” you reply, arching an eyebrow. “If you can close the distance, perhaps I’ll decide you’re worthy enough to let live.”

Jace bursts out laughing, clapping Cregan on the shoulder. “Oh, I’d pay to see this, Cregan. I doubt you’ll get anywhere near her, though. You might not realize it, but my sister’s fiercer than any dragon you’ve heard about.”

Cregan looks back at you, and his smile is wolfish, mirroring the stark wildness of his homeland. “Then let it be a hunt worthy of legend,” he says, finally accepting your dare. “I’ll catch you, dragon or no.”

The thrill of the challenge sends a shiver through you, as potent as the bite of Northern cold. You take a step back, glancing over your shoulder at Jace, who’s grinning like a fool.

“Make sure you don’t get hurt, sister,” he teases, though there’s an affectionate warmth in his voice. “Cregan here might surprise you.”

You lift your chin. “Then let him try. The North may have its wolves, but it has yet to meet a dragon.”

With that, you turn, feeling the thrill course through your veins. You know that Cregan’s eyes are on you, and as you prepare to summon Gallaex, the promise of this chase—the thrill of being hunted by him—ignites a fire within you that no winter could ever hope to extinguish.

The Northern wind howls, a relentless beast tearing through the forest as Cregan Stark and his hunting party advance through the snowy terrain, his men trudging in silence, eyes sharp as they scan the dense landscape. Even Jace, usually so full of laughter and jest, has fallen into a tense quiet as they all search for you and your dragon.

This isn’t any ordinary hunt, and every man knows it. Cregan has taken on your challenge to “catch” a dragon, a feat whispered about as mad by some, yet thrilling enough to drive the blood through their veins with fire. It’s no stag or wolf he seeks in this hunt, but a Valyrian princess—a Velaryon who has fire in her blood and the daring of dragons in her heart. And somewhere above, hidden within the vast white of the northern skies, waits Gallaex.

Gallaex is a creature of beauty and terror, like a ghost rising from the snow, pale and icy, his scales glimmering faintly under the light of the sun like polished pearls or the glistening frost on Winterfell’s towers at dawn. He is a dragon of pale white, the color of fresh snow—making him nearly invisible against the wintry landscape that sprawls beneath him. Massive, powerful wings spread wide, each movement a barely audible whisper in the cold, as if even the air respects his presence, too fearful to disturb him.

“By the gods,” mutters one of the Stark men as they catch sight of Gallaex in the distant sky, a faint, ghostly shape. “Are we truly meant to chase that?”

“Aye,” Cregan replies, his voice a low growl of determination. “And if you value your life, keep close, and don’t stray.”

Jace snorts beside him, the thrill evident in his voice. “I’d wager Gallaex has already spotted us. My sister wouldn’t let us draw this close without toying with us.”

“Toying?” Cregan asks, casting a glance at Jace.

“She likes to test people,” Jace answers with a grin. “And Gallaex… he’s as much a part of her as her own skin. They’re both cunning and know the land around them. The skies are their domain, and they’re waiting for us to enter it.”

Cregan’s eyes narrow, fixed on the faint shape in the sky. “Then we’ll give them the chase they want.”

Jace laughs, nudging Cregan with his shoulder. “I knew I liked you, Stark. A dragon hunts best when their prey is fearless.” He tilts his head up, calling into the sky. “Sister! Are you afraid to come down and face us?”

A heartbeat later, Gallaex’s massive form shifts, descending in a wide circle, just low enough that they can hear the beat of his wings echo through the frozen trees. The dragon’s pale eyes seem to glint with something akin to mischief as he hovers, each beat of his wings sending gusts of snow swirling around the hunters below.

And then, your voice calls down from above, as sharp as an icy wind, yet carrying warmth enough to stoke a fire. “You’ll have to do better than that, Jace. Cregan, if you truly mean to catch me, you’ll need to keep up!”

Cregan’s jaw tightens as he watches you, perched gracefully atop Gallaex’s back, with a look in your eyes that dares him to try. “You think I won’t?” he shouts back.

Your laugh rings out, bright and wild. “We shall see, my lord.”

With that, Gallaex gives a powerful beat of his wings, sending snow and frost flying in a blinding cloud, obscuring him and you from sight in an instant. By the time it clears, you’re soaring through the sky once more, a pale ghost against the endless expanse of white, leading them further into the wilderness.

Cregan signals to his men to move quickly, his voice steady, though his heart pounds with the thrill of the chase. “Follow close! She’s fast, but we’re not beaten yet.”

The party picks up the pace, breaking into a run through the deep snow, following the occasional flicker of white scales or a shadowy shape in the sky that betrays Gallaex’s movement. Cregan feels the burn in his muscles, the cold biting at his skin, but he pushes on, unwilling to falter. There’s something exhilarating about chasing after you, knowing you’re just out of reach, leading him on a path only you and Gallaex know.

Jace jogs beside him, panting but grinning. “You look determined, Cregan. I hope you’re prepared for what you’ve started.”

“Nothing has ever come easy in the North, Velaryon,” Cregan replies without slowing down, a fierce glint in his eyes. “Your sister wanted a hunt—so that’s what I’ll give her.”

Ahead, Gallaex begins to descend once more, vanishing into a narrow, forested valley where the trees grow close and the terrain is rough. It’s a clever choice on your part, knowing that the dragon’s pale form will be near impossible to spot against the scattered patches of snow-covered trees.

The Stark men slow as they enter the valley, glancing up nervously, unsure of where Gallaex might reappear. Jace leans in close to Cregan, murmuring, “She’ll try to keep us guessing. Gallaex is her partner in every way—they’ve been together since she was young.”

Cregan nods, his gaze never leaving the trees above. “I’ll catch her, Jace. You can tell her that if she means to toy with me, I won’t be the one to tire first.”

Just then, a blast of snow erupts from the trees ahead, and Gallaex swoops down in a dizzying dive, so close that the men stumble back, raising arms to shield themselves from the gust that accompanies his descent. For a moment, his pale form vanishes among the snow-laden branches, a creature as silent and relentless as the Northern winter itself.

Cregan’s eyes narrow as he sees you again atop Gallaex, your gaze locking with his for a heartbeat, and he feels the challenge in your eyes. You hold his stare, daring him to come closer. Then, with a swift pull on Gallaex’s reins, you steer him up, soaring back into the sky with a grace that takes his breath away.

“Is that all you’ve got, Stark?” you call down, laughter in your voice. “I thought the North boasted wolves, not hounds who give up the chase.”

“Giving up?” Cregan growls, a fierce smile breaking across his face. “Not a chance.”

As you circle above, Gallaex’s form barely visible in the falling snow, Cregan readies himself, feeling every muscle in his body coil with determination. His men are breathing heavily beside him, unsure of how this strange chase will end, but the look in Cregan’s eyes is enough to keep them going. This is no mere hunt—it’s a battle of wits, endurance, and will.

He shouts up to you, voice carrying through the cold air. “You can’t stay in the air forever, princess. And when you land, I’ll be there waiting.”

You laugh again, but there’s a hint of excitement in your voice now. “Then you’ll have to be cleverer than that, Cregan Stark. Catching a dragon isn’t so easy.”

Jace claps Cregan on the back, grinning. “She’s taunting you. Don’t disappoint her now!”

Cregan tightens his grip on his weapon, eyes blazing with the thrill of the hunt. “Let her run, then. It’ll make catching her all the sweeter.”

With a final glance at the sky, he sets off once more, determined to outlast the dragon and the rider who dares to challenge him, ready to prove that even the fiercest creature can’t escape a Northern wolf.

The snow-laden forest is silent, save for the soft rustling of wind through the pines and the faint crackle of distant ice. Gallaex’s wings cut through the cold air with practiced precision as he glides above the treetops. You feel the cold air biting at your face, but the thrill of the chase has filled you with a warmth that no winter wind could chill. Beneath you, Cregan and his men track your every move with a tenacity you hadn't expected; no matter how high you soar or how skillfully Gallaex weaves through the skies, you feel Cregan’s presence close, determined, like the winter itself.

You can’t help but smile, watching as he pursues you with relentless focus, weaving his way through the rugged Northern landscape with an ease that makes you wonder if the North itself guides his steps. You've taunted him, challenged him, and now, with Gallaex beginning to tire, you know the time is coming when you'll have to land. Gallaex gives a low rumble beneath you, his exhaustion evident as his wings grow heavy with each beat.

“Shall we give them one last challenge?” you murmur to him, stroking the side of his neck.

Gallaex answers with a soft growl, but you know it’s time. You guide him down into the forest, searching for a landing spot concealed by snow-laden trees, where you can disappear into the wood and maybe—just maybe—make Cregan work a little harder for his prize.

The moment Gallaex’s claws touch the snow, you slide off his back, patting his neck before sending him back up to circle above. You know he’ll keep watch, ready to swoop in if needed. But this part of the chase is yours alone.

You dart into the dense woods, your heart pounding with the thrill of the hunt. Every step you take is silent, your Valyrian blood lending you a lightness that allows you to move without leaving much of a trace. Yet even as you run, you can sense him. Cregan is close, his every step bringing him nearer, guided by some invisible thread that binds him to you in this moment. You wonder if he can hear your heartbeat; it feels loud enough to echo through the forest.

Then, suddenly, a shadow moves ahead of you, and before you can react, Cregan emerges from behind a tree, his intense gaze locking onto yours. He moves like a wolf, silent and predatory, blocking your escape with a slight smirk that tells you he’s anticipated this move.

“So, this is where the dragon hides,” he murmurs, his voice low and steady, thick with Northern timber. “I thought you'd make me chase you a bit longer.”

You take a step back, but your smile is defiant, unwilling to yield so easily. “Think you’ve won, Lord Stark? I still have wings.”

“And I have patience.” He takes a step closer, his eyes gleaming with the thrill of the chase. “I told you I'd catch you.”

With nowhere to run, you tilt your head, raising an eyebrow. “And if you have? What prize does the wolf demand for catching his dragon?”

For a moment, he’s silent, his gaze searching yours, as if weighing the depth of his own answer. And then, with a smile both fierce and earnest, he replies, “The North is in need of a wife for its Lord.”

Your heart stutters, caught off guard by the weight of his words. “A wife?”

“Aye,” he nods, his gaze never leaving yours. “A woman fierce enough to dare me into a hunt—and skilled enough to make me work for it.”

You’re quiet for a moment, feeling the tension between you both, charged with unspoken promises and a yearning neither of you had allowed yourselves to admit. “And you believe a dragon would suit the North?” you ask softly, a hint of challenge in your voice.

His expression turns serious, though his eyes remain warm. “A dragon with your fire would do more than suit it—she’d light it brighter than any flame, and the North would be all the better for it.”

The sincerity in his words is undeniable, and something within you softens, realizing that this is more than a chase, more than a game between hunter and hunted. The North is cold and harsh, but Cregan stands before you like a promise of warmth, a force as enduring as winter itself.

“So,” you murmur, tilting your head, “if I were to accept this… reward, what would you say to your bannermen? That Lord Stark hunted down his own dragon?”

Cregan lets out a low laugh, stepping closer so that he’s only inches away, his breath warm against your chilled skin. “They’ll sing of it for generations. They’ll say the wolf was bold enough to catch a dragon and wise enough to keep her.”

You chuckle, finding yourself drawn to his intensity. “And will the wolf promise to keep her warm in the North?”

He grins, raising an eyebrow. “The North might be cold, but my lady needn’t fear the chill so long as I’m near.” His hand reaches out, gently brushing a lock of hair from your face. His touch is rough, warm, grounding you in this moment as he leans in, his voice a low murmur. “So tell me, do I have your favor?”

You hold his gaze, feeling your pulse quicken. “Only if you swear to never let the dragon grow cold or idle.”

His smile softens, though the fire in his eyes remains, fierce and unyielding. “Then it’s a vow, my lady. From this day forward.”

Around you, the forest stands silent, as if bearing witness to the pact sealed between you, a wolf and his dragon, bound by fire and frost alike.

From that day on, the tale would spread through the North and beyond, whispered with awe and laughter by Cregan’s bannermen: how Lord Stark, the Wolf of Winterfell, had hunted down a dragon and claimed her as his own, binding her not with chains or force, but with an unbreakable bond, forged in the heart of winter. And the North would never forget how the wolf and the dragon became one, each fierce enough to stand alone, yet unstoppable together.

[cheyisagirlkisser]

Blue Collar Abby x Fem! reader HCS

—CONTAINS 18+ CONTENT!—

Blue collar Abby who loves to spoil you. She may not be rich, but best believe she’ll keep her girl happy. She’ll pay for you to get your nails done especially because she says, “my baby looks so gorgeous with a set of pretty nails.”

Blue collar Abby who asked you to move into her apartment so she could come home to you everyday. You have your own job, but you get home way earlier than she does. She works long hours, so getting to see you doing something cute like cooking for her or watching tv on the couch makes her long days worth it.

Blue collar Abby who hates cats. Abby’s more of a dog person, so naturally, when you BEGGED to go to the shelter and pick out a cat, she said no at first. She immediately changed her mind when she saw that cute downcast look on your face and the next day, you had an orange cat running around the house.

Blue collar Abby whose favorite thing is the nights she can spend with you where you just watch cheesy romance movies SWEARS she hates(she cried during Titanic and The Notebook) and eat take-out with you. A box of orange chicken and fried rice and her sweet girlfriend beside her is enough to make her feel like she’s winning in life.

Blue collar Abby who absolutely adores you. She is exhausted at times and spends unfortunately hours away from you, but when she can, she’ll worship you. Not just in sex, either. She loves pulling you onto her lap and admiring that cute flustered face you have. She’ll rub her roughened hands all over your hips and waist, whispering in your ear about how “you’re such a sweet girl.”

Blue collar Abby who does love sex, too though. I see blue collar Abby as not a stone-top but loves to give. A lot. She’ll let you ride her face until you physically can’t anymore, tease your throbbing cunt with a vibrator but never for too long because she just doesn’t know how to deny you. She can’t find it in her to tell you no. She loves using a strap-on on you because she is really fit from her job and feels extremely skilled with it. She’s active too, so her stamina is unmatched. I just imagine her even attempting to let you ride her strap-on and she can’t stay restless for long, so she’ll buck her hips up, eliciting a strangled moan from you.

Blue collar Abby who is mostly a stone-top because sometimes she does need a little attention, too. If she’s had a long day, you’ll catch on to her needs and cheer her up by letting her grind her cunt all over your face. She loves the sight of you on your knees, it’s a rare one but it truly does drive her crazy. Sometimes, she’ll fall asleep after and feel so bad about it, even though she was so exhausted that day. On those occasions, you’ll get some mind-blowing morning sex before she has to leave for work. She’ll always take care of you.

Blue collar Abby who really wants you as her wife. She wants to propose with a ring you’ll love and be able to help you plan the wedding of your dreams. You’re her princess, and all she wants is to make your dreams happen. She’s saving up, half-way there right now. All she wants is a future where she can provide everything for you and spoil you rotten. She daydreams at work about adopting or finding a sperm donor and you being her beautiful wife.

Blue collar Abby who finally reaches her goal, and takes you out to this nice restaurant. You look all pretty and she knows the moment’s perfect. After dinner’s over, she’ll walk you around this botanical garden and when you’re not paying attention, she gets down on one knee and reveals the most beautiful ring you’d ever laid eyes upon. It wasn’t some standard diamond ring, either. It was something that was tailored just to what you loved, the most perfect ring just for you. Of course, you said yes, and all those day dreams about seeing you in a beautiful wedding dress are a reality.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Yuji Itadori saving you oh so smoothly

The streets are eerily quiet, as if they know what’s coming before you do. Yuji walks slightly ahead of you, his expression fixed and determined, the usual warmth in his eyes replaced by something colder, sharper. Those past hours felt like a trip to hell and back for you, always on the brink of dying on your own until you finally met up with Yuji again.

You’ve known he was strong - of course you have. But watching him now, every step controlled and precise, his presence almost blinding, it’s as if you’re truly seeing him for the first time.

A distant crash shatters the silence. You tense, instinctively backing up, and Yuji’s hand reaches out before you even realize he’s moved. His fingers brush against your arm, grounding you, steady and reassuring.

“Stay close,” he says softly, though there’s a tension in his voice that only heightens your anxiety.

You nod, trying to ignore the way your heart skips several beats. You know what he’s up against, what you’re up against, and no amount of reassurance can fully quiet that stinging pulse of fear in the back of your mind.

Suddenly, a figure steps into view, emerging from the darkness like a nightmare come to life. The curse...you recognize him instantly. One of those curse brothers, his aura radiating nothing but hatred. His eyes narrow on you first, a cruel grin spreading across his face as he takes a slow, menacing step forward.

Fuck.

“Another human,” he sneers, his voice sending a chill down your spine.

“This one looks… weak.”

Before you can even think, Yuji moves. One moment he’s beside you, and the next, he’s a blur, positioning himself firmly between you and the curse. He raises his fists, the muscles in his arms firm.

And slowly but surely your blank mind begins to realize. Yuji isn’t just protecting you. He’s prepared to face down this monster without hesitation, without even a hint of fear. It’s like he’s invincible.

All of that, because of you?

“Touch her, and you’ll regret it,” he says, voice low, fierce.

Your breath catches. Yuji’s never sounded like that before, all hard edges and steel, like the kind of threat that doesn’t leave room for doubt. He’s usually all sunshine and grins, the kind of guy who’d rather be talking or eating than fighting. But here, now, he’s deadly serious.

The curse lunges, a flash of claws and teeth aimed straight for Yuji’s throat, and you flinch, instincts screaming at you to run or fight or do something. But Yuji doesn’t move an inch, like he’s not even remotely fazed by the creature’s size or speed.

He sidesteps at the last second, fists striking with a precision and strength that takes your breath away. Every blow lands with a bone-crunching force, and you see the curse stagger, disoriented. Yuji doesn’t let up, his movements fluid and powerful, as though he’s been doing this his whole life.

Your mind can barely keep up with the sight in front of you. Yuji has always been strong, yes. But seeing him like this, in action, is something else entirely. There’s a raw, unfiltered power in every motion, in the way he weaves around his opponent, dodging attacks that seem impossible to evade. You can hardly look away, stunned by the sheer firce of his strength while it seems like his gaze never truly leaves yours.

The curse notices you again. With a sudden, vicious shift, it changes course, its gaze locking on you with renewed intensity. Yuji’s head snaps up, and in that instant, he’s between you and the curse again, his stance unwavering.

“I said,” he growls, “leave her alone.”

His voice echoes in the empty street, a command that seems to pierce right through the creature’s dark aura.

The curse snarls, frustrated, and lashes out wildly. But Yuji is faster, stronger. His fist collides with the curse’s head, sending it reeling back. He doesn’t stop, pushing forward, a relentless series of punches that leave no room for a straight. His strength is like nothing you’ve ever seen: powerful, devastating, and yet so controlled. Every strike seems to vibrate through the air, echoing with his unyielding will to protect.

Finally, the curse falls, dissolving into nothing more than a dark, fading mist. The street is silent once again, but this time, the silence feels heavy, charged with the aftershocks of battle while Yuji hold you tightly in order to protect you from the shockwave that rushes over the destroyed streets.

You don’t realize you’ve been holding your breath until you’re exhaling, a shaky sigh that fills the stillness. Yuji turns back to you, his intense expression melting into one of gentle concern.

“Are you okay?” he asks, voice soft, as if he hadn’t just taken down a curse with his bare hands.

You nod, unsure how to put everything you’re feeling into words with your mind still being all over the place. Yuji Itadori just saved you and he looked ridiculousy good doing so. Is that his arm wrapped around your waist?

“I… I didn’t realize you were that strong,” you manage, your voice barely a whisper.

He scratches the back of his head, a slight blush creeping over his cheeks.

“I had to be,” he says simply, meeting your gaze with a quiet, earnest determination that sends warmth flooding through you.

“I wasn’t about to let anything happen to you.”

It’s so simple, so genuine. Yuji’s strength, his resolve - it’s not just for himself.

It’s for you.

And standing there, looking into his bright, unwavering eyes, you realize that with Yuji by your side, maybe you’re a little braver than you thought you could be.

"Hey, I can carry you home if you want? Your body still feels pretty weak-"

"N-N-NO!"

Well, maybe after that deep blush leaves your cheeks and your knees start working properly again.

[unhingedangstaddict]

Currently working on my own fix-it fic but man this shit is harder than I thought it'd be- I keep crying and then getting distracted reading other fix-it fics. Thought I'd share this snippet to hopefully motivate myself to keep going???

Hen was starting to wonder if maybe Tommy was out for a run when she heard a faint ‘oh shit�� from inside the house. She banged on the door again. “Come on Kinard! I know you’re in there!” She called out. If Tommy’s neighbors thought she was crazy, oh well, too bad. Hen really didn’t care.

Finally the door was opened by Tommy. His hair was a mess- sticking up as though he’d been running his hands through it far too much-, he had deep dark bags under his eyes from lack of sleep, his eyes were puffy from crying, and frankly, he looked like shit. “What do you want, Hen?” Tommy rasped. Whether his voice was hoarse due to dehydration or yelling and/or crying was unclear.

“To talk about what happened last night.” Hen crossed her arms.

“You mean you’re here to yell at me for what I did?" Tommy guessed. He hadn't forgotten the thinly veiled shovel talk from Hen and Karen months back at the medal ceremony- he wasn't surprised Hen was here now. “Trust me I hate myself for it enough. There’s nothing you can say that I haven’t already thought about myself.”

“No. I’m here to try and understand what even happened. According to Eddie, Buck wasn’t making very much sense last night. Eddie would’ve come himself to check on you but he’s got Buck right now. Eddie’s worried about you and frankly, I am too.”

Tommy sighed deeply and stepped aside to let Hen into the house.

Soon they were sitting at Tommy’s kitchen table with mugs of coffee in hand.

“So are you gonna tell me what happened or are you just gonna keep having that staring contest with your coffee?” Hen questioned.

“He asked me to move in with him.” Tommy admitted quietly.

“Okay,” Hen said slowly, waiting for Tommy to explain further why he was upset by it. Beyond the obvious matter of Buck leasing his loft apartment and Tommy owning his house, Hen wasn’t sure what the issue was.

“For a split second, I thought about saying yes.” Tommy confessed. “Then I returned to reality and realized I had to end it.”

“But why?” Hen questioned.

“Even if it was only for a second, Hen, I was ready to, what? Sell my house and more than half my stuff to move in with him? I’m not even mad about that part- I’m upset with myself for considering it. I’ve been in Evan’s position before, first gay relationship, lovesick, you think it’s gonna last forever. And I’ve been the first for guys before too. Like I told Evan last night, I know how it ends. And I guess I’d rather break my own heart than wait around for Evan to do it.”

“If you’ve been so sure all this time that it could never work, why did it take until now for you to call things off?” Hen questioned.

“I think from the start I knew I was playing with fire. After the last guy I was a first for, I told myself I wasn’t going to do it anymore. Then I met Evan, and he was just so magnetic, I couldn’t stay away even if I wanted to. I couldn't say no to him. I think I always knew my heart would get broken, and I guess I was okay with that all this time, until last night when I realized I love him, and I knew I had to cut myself off before I reached a point of no return.” Tommy explained. “I mean, I’m a fucking a mess right now and I was the one who called it off. I don’t know if I would’ve been able to survive him ending it.”

“Did you really just figure out last night that you love him?” Hen asked.

“I guess I sorta loved him from the start but last night was different, Hen. I’m in love with him, like well and truly love him, in a way I’ve never felt before, about anyone.” Tears filled Tommy’s eyes. “And I’m just his first. And as badly as I want it, I know I don’t get to be his last.”

“What makes you so sure you can’t be his last?” Hen wondered.

“Because I’m not the forever guy." Tommy shrugged slightly as a tear finally escaped and slid down his cheek. "At best I’m the close-to-but-never-quite-enough guy."

[famoussharkhairdoknight]

Where Goodbyes Fade~Jude Bellingham

The rain pounded against the car windows as I drove towards Jude’s house. We’d gone out to dinner for what was supposed to be the last time. After months of trying and endless discussions, we had decided to end things. It just wasn’t working anymore—or at least, that’s what we kept telling ourselves.

I parked outside his house. I sat there, hands gripping the wheel, staring at his front door. I should have just left, said goodbye, and moved on. But something held me back.

Finally, I sighed and got out of the car. Jude opened the door just as I knocked, and despite the grey sky and the tired look on his face, he had that faint, familiar smile.

“I thought you’d already gone,” he said, looking at me with a mix of surprise and curiosity.

“Yeah… I thought so too,” I replied, holding my breath as our eyes met. It felt like it had been ages since we’d looked at each other that way.

“What made you come back?” he asked, and I heard a note of hope in his voice, even though he tried to hide it.

I shook my head, unable to give him a clear answer. “I don’t know. It just felt like… something was missing,” I whispered.

He looked down and gestured for me to come inside. He closed the door behind me, and the silence in the room became heavy. I felt more vulnerable than ever. We looked at each other for a moment without saying anything, but there was so much between us that every word seemed unnecessary.

After a long pause, Jude stepped closer. “So… we should say goodbye, right?”

The words hit me, but I nodded weakly, trying to seem sure of myself. “Yes, it would be… better for both of us.”

“Better?” he repeated, as if he couldn’t believe that word. “God, do you really think this is the right thing?”

“I don’t know, Jude. We’ve tried so many times… we’ve been at this point for too long.”

He took a step back, running a hand through his hair—a gesture I knew well. “Maybe we’re just afraid to go all the way. Maybe we never allowed ourselves to truly surrender to each other,” he said in a low voice, almost as if he were speaking to himself.

I moved closer to him, looking into his eyes. “Jude, if there are things we haven’t said… it’s time to say them.”

He was silent for a moment, then moved his hand to my face, brushing a strand of hair aside. “I’m going to miss you,” he whispered hoarsely, his words thick with an emotion I couldn’t ignore.

“Stop it…” I replied in a low voice, but without any conviction. My heart was pounding, as if it had been waiting to hear exactly that.

“Will you really miss me?” he asked, almost as a challenge, and I saw the determination in his eyes, that same spark that had made me fall in love with him.

“Every single day,” I answered, unable to hold back the truth any longer.

Suddenly, Jude stepped even closer, so close that our breaths mingled. I could feel his warmth, his familiar scent, and every fiber of my being cried out for him.

“Tell me you hate me, if that’s really what you want,” he whispered, his lips just a breath away from mine. “Tell me you don’t need me anymore.”

“I can’t,” I answered, and in that moment, all my determination collapsed. His hands found my cheeks, and the world seemed to stop.

Suddenly, his face was so close that he was all I could see, his lips finding mine in a kiss loaded with everything we had kept hidden for far too long. His arms wrapped around me, and I held onto him as if he were the only thing that mattered.

After a moment, we pulled apart, breathless, but he still held me tightly, as if afraid I might disappear at any second.

“I can’t let you go,” he murmured, his face tense with genuine pain.

“Neither can I,” I replied, unable to hold back the tears. “Maybe we need each other more than we want to admit.”

He smiled, brushing his lips against mine once more. “Then let’s stay. Let’s put away every doubt and this time… really give it a shot.”

And in that moment, I realized that sometimes, even when you think you want to close a door, your heart knows the right choice all along.

[ethicaltreatmentofcowplants]

Elsewhere Cassie and Struan attempt to gain ground with Patchy, Cassie makes a startling discovery - and Struan asks her to maybe… do an activity together -

- so it’s a panicked run from Cassie to a woohoo locale.

As both their permissions have ‘yes’ to woohoo with fellow contestants - and my settings are at ‘moderate’ so that you need a reasonably high relationship with the other sim for woohoo to successfully occur - I accepted it.

Looks like it was a good time?

Delphine wants the basil to know what’s up! And Lilac - maybe it’s best not to joke about being in a simulation to the PARANOID pixel?

Fortunately Jerrod seems to think it’s all in good fun. Far too ridiculous to believe, right? Utter nonsense.

As there’s by now some leftovers in the fridge (and Lilac’s infamous cooler in the corner), we spare Cassie from cooking the evening meal.

Plus it’s time to par - oh gosh, Lilac.

I can’t let you go looking like that. Let’s grab something else from CAS.

For Lilac’s final mandated friendly interaction, she takes a selfie with each sim. Below we have:

Briar (yellow robot) and Jayla (white robot)

Cassie and Struan

Delphine and Jerrod

Our lil witch takes on the keg once more aaand seems to succeed - until she doesn’t. Milk may indeed be the safer option, Cassie.

The party is… weird. Everyone is determined to gather in the kitchen for some reason, so once again the Watcher is forced to sacrifice her screencaps and activate the social club.

I agree, Jerrod. This sucks.

(In my playtesting save, the group had a great time and stayed in the room where all the fun stuff was - I really don’t know what was different for this crew.)

If only you had joined us, Patchy.

Too late, Felix. The party’s over - and that’s assuming it ever truly began.

While everyone else sleeps, Lilac (who has the SELDOM SLEEPY reward trait) sought out reassurance from Patchy that he would be more professional, should this roll ever come around again. And that is where we will leave Household One for this round.

(Note: for this round’s table, I will collate everyone’s scores after the final day of Household Three then send the bottom three home. The households will once again be randomised for the next round. Therefore hypothetically everyone from this group could make it through - or all three eliminated sims could come from here - depending on the rest of the round.)

@changingplumbob @lindyloosims @jonquilyst

@bakersimmer @simstagramsomeone @tipsy-clouds

[koji-haru]

Even As Time Marches On

[A gift for @twost3ps. Inspired by their amazing art!! Sorry I took some liberations characterising, well, the characters involved, but I hope you'd still like it!!]

Before even the first rays of the sun had breached the horizon, Cain was already up and out in the fields to tend to the crops he had grown and had been meticulously caring for. A few months had already passed since he planted the seeds, and while the weather was gradually becoming colder, Cain was proud to claim that his crops were almost ready for harvest. These were his first set of crops, one that he himself had tended to, from tilling the soil to ensure they were suitable for planting to maintaining upkeep of his section of the field by watering them daily and keeping pests away. He crouched down towards a large crown of cabbage, its massive leaves a radiant green looking so fresh and crisp; anytime soon and it would be ready to be picked. Cain beamed brightly at the thought of his family eating the food he had grown himself, especially his father, whom he truly looked up to. 

“Oh, Cain, you’re already up as well?,” asked Abel, a shepherd’s crook on his left hand, as he headed towards his brother. “I’m on the way to let the sheep out to graze for the morning myself.” 

Remaining crouched on the ground, Cain couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the sound of his younger brother’s voice. Yes, he loved his brother and wouldn’t trade the world for him, but sometimes his presence simply grated on Cain like cacti brushing against his skin, slow and purposeful. Abel with all his bright smiles always seemed to try to outdo him in every show effort he tried to display. Cain knew that wasn’t what Abel intended to do, but sometimes he just wished he could be the older brother that he should be. The one who was looked up to by his siblings, the one his parents praised for his capabilities, the pride of his parents. And yet…he couldn’t help but notice that that gaze seemed to always be directed towards Abel.

“Cain?,” asked Abel, a gentle hand on his older brother’s shoulder, a cornered glimmer in his eyes. “Are you alright?”

From where Cain was crouched, the rising sun perfectly shone on Abel’s face, soft golden hues a perfect match with his wavy blonde locks, like an angel looking down on a lowly mortal. An odd sense of bitterness and shame swirled from deep within Cain’s gut as he realised the thoughts he was having. 

“Y-yeah! Perfectly fine!” Cain brushed the dirt off his tunic as he stood up, chest puffed out slightly as he tried to look doing extra well. “Why wouldn’t I be?” Right, why wouldn’t he be? He was the first child of Adam and Eve after all, the first child born of humanity.

Abel seemed to look over him with a certain degree of scepticism, though he decided to let it go. He knew his older brother had a habit of keeping things to himself, even when he really shouldn’t. “If you say so…”

“Yup! So run along now.” Cain waved Abel off towards where they kept the animals safe for the night. “I’ll just finish up here and then I’ll wake the others up for breakfast.”

A homey, calming smell wafted throughout their thatched house once Cain finally made his way back home. In the kitchen was their mother, Eve, and one of his sisters, Aclima, busy making everyone their breakfast with too many wooden bowls lined around the table. A certain morning warmth radiated all over the house, a peaceful calm before the littler ones were up for the day. 

“Oh Cain, go help your father with your siblings,” Eve shouted out from the kitchen when she heard the door open and then close. 

“On the way!,” Cain shouted back as he swiftly made his way towards their bedrooms, the sound of energetic squeals becoming louder with each step he took. 

Sounds of little quick pitter patters against the wooden floor bounced in the narrow hallway that Cain was in. However, this time, he was prepared for it as he widened his stance, crouched slightly, and had his arms opened wide ready to catch a certain little runaway. And as if on cue, one of the doors slammed wide open and out came Norea, full of giggles, her dress dragging by her foot as she ran in the hallway in only her underwear. 

“You’re too slow papa!,” she squealed happily as she speedily ran in the hallway, looking back at her exhausted father. She squealed even louder when she felt herself being lifted in the air as Cain grabbed by the waist and swung her around briefly before securing his now prisoner. 

“Ah, but I’m too fast for you!,” he declared proudly as he ruffled her messy brown locks while she playfully struggled in his grip. “You need to get dressed, Nory.” 

“Nooooo!” Norea struggled even harder, her playful laughter bouncing all over the walls.

Soon after Adam walked out the door, looking absolutely drained even so early in the morning. Clinging to his leg was Seth, drool dripping down his chin, his eyes barely open and yet his grip on his father’s leg was unrelenting even when Adam tried to pick him up.

“Oh, thank you Cain,” Adam gasped out as Norea was handed back to him, her little dress still tangled along her legs. “And you,” he directed his attention to his little girl, poking her lightly on the nose. “are a naughty little monkey!”

With Cain’s help, Adam eventually managed to get all of the smaller children dressed and ready to be sat at the table for breakfast. Despite being extremely young himself, barely even at puberty, Cain often helped to care for his younger siblings. Though, he supposed he especially had to as the oldest of them all, and being the one responsible for some of their wilder antics. As the oldest sibling, it was his blood-bound duty to teach his younger siblings all the fun things they could do, much to their parents' dismay and exhaustion. 

With Norea happily secured within Cain’s grasp and Anaq on the other, and Seth sleepily nuzzling within his father’s hold, both Adam and Cain made their way towards the dining area, successful in their morning endeavours. 

Adam placed a warm, loving hand on top of Cain's head, ruffling his son’s soft brown locks with a proud look in his brown eyes. “Thanks for always helping. You’re a lifesaver, you know that?”

Lifesaver. That’s what his father used to call him, but now Cain wasn’t so sure as he stared at the wet blood staining his hands, glistening a bright red under the fresh morning sun. Just a couple of feet in front him laid Abel, his favoured younger brother, unmoving, joints twisted in odd, unnatural angles. He wondered how his brother would look at him, knowing what he had done and how he felt, though he supposed he could never know now. Cain looked down at the bloody, unrecognisable mess that used to be Abel’s face. The rock he used to kill his brother with fell onto the ground with a deafening thud. Death. The word suddenly gained a new meaning to him, and feelings he had never felt before surged from deep within his being. Regret. Fear. And as much as he felt sick admitting it: Satisfaction.

He didn’t mean it, not fully. He was simply sick of it. Sick of all the comparison, the little comments thrown his way, how Abel seemed more like the responsible older brother, how Abel was more mature. And then Heaven just had to also favour Abel over him, despite all the hard work and effort he put into his own offering. Where did he fail again? Why couldn’t ever be perfect in front of anyone? It was always Abel Abel Abel! Cain didn’t mean it. But his feelings needed to be released and his hands took action before he even thought about anything. Everything became a messy, anger filled blur, and once his senses returned to him, the source of his envy was gone. Abel was gone. 

Cain dropped to his knees, his entire body shaking with a chaotic mixture of fear and panic. What had he done? 

Soon the voices of his parents rang throughout the crisp morning air. He remained quiet, his body as still and unmoving as Abel in front of him. Lifesaver, how ironic. What would his father say?

—-

Cain stood numbly in the bloody chaotic mess that was the Pride ring. Today was an extra bloody day, and the deaths that occurred around him were permanent for once. He stepped over a decapitated body, careful not to drench his pants in too much blood as he made his way back home. Exterminator angels flashed above and all around him, chasing desperate sinners into corners, impaling, slicing and cutting them up into pieces as they pathetically pleaded for their lives. Though, of course, the angels didn’t even think twice about their pleas, that was the point of extermination day after all. 

For some odd reason he wasn’t sure why, Cain, despite his reckless and carefree strolls around Pride during Extermination day, had never once been targeted by the angels. One or two would fly down towards him only to stop and pause once they actually get a look at him and then fly away without so much as touching a single strand of his hair. It confused him a lot at first, but he soon came to speculate that perhaps they also knew of his curse - to forever wander the mortal realm for his sin of murder. Which was disappointing, it was the sole reason he came to Hell in the first place with the help of some higher demons, who first tried to claim his soul on Earth, but ended up bringing him along to Hell instead. Cain had hoped that Hell would be able to somehow kill him and finally end his curse of forever bearing the weight of his guilt, but it seemed that he was wrong. Still, he remained in Hell regardless, finding the hazardous place much more compelling than life on Earth. 

He looked up at the bloody red skies of Pride, the clock tower shining brightly in the distance; only a few more hours before the angels returned to Heaven, leaving Pride in devastating silence. Cain hated the silence that usually followed after an extermination, his envy flaring up within him, wishing that it was him who was finally granted eternal peace. A hopelessly tired sigh escaped his lips before he tore his gaze away from the skies to head back to his house for the day. 

Except Cain couldn’t really get back to his place as an angel stood in his path. This one looked different from the rest of the exterminators with their black and grey wings and uniform. This angel was far taller than the others, draped in blue and golden robes adorned with spikes, and large golden wings that reached that ground. Its face was also covered just like the others with large horns that curved backwards, though this one’s face was also different from the others, for once, it didn’t have a smile on its face. 

Maybe God had finally sent him an angel to finish him. That would be nice. A little too delayed in his opinion, but he would take it, he wouldn’t complain. Cain took another bold step towards the odd angel, not caring as to what would happen to him. Either he would be killed or he would be continuing his way back to his home, both suited him just fine. 

As he got closer, the angel in front of him suddenly moved its hands towards its helmet, removing carefully until it revealed a face. A face he never thought he would see again. A face he was afraid to come across again, but also dearly missed. 

“...Cain…,” the angel called out to him, his voice still as gentle as when Cain was still a little boy. 

“Father?,” he asked, his feet stuck frozen on Hell’s heated ground. He couldn’t believe it. His father was right in front of him. What was his father–? Wait. Cain recognised it now; where he previously saw this angel, who was actually his father all along. That attire, there was no doubt about it, his father was the commander of the exorcists. “Have you come to finally kill me?,” he asked, tears beginning to prick his eyes. For once in his everlasting life, he didn’t want to die, not like this, not before he had gained his father’s forgiveness.

His father moved towards him, and Cain couldn’t but feel all the guilt, all the regret and all the shame he felt aeons ago resurface back up like ugly rotten crops. He kept his eyes glued to the bloody soil of Pride, unable to look his father in the eye, unworthy of looking his father in the eye. He had failed his parents, this was as he just deserved. 

Adam’s shadow loomed over Cain’s defeated form, and while Cain awaited a strike, a swift but painful end to his life, what arrived instead was a hug; a hug full of warmth and care and all the love a parent would give their beloved child and more.

“My son.” Adam hugged Cain tightly, afraid to let go lest he loses him again. “I could never, never even wish harm on you.”

“Even after all this time...,” Cain sobbed, years of pain and regret flowing out in tears as he hugged his father tightly back. “...do you still love me?”

Adam pulled away slightly from Cain, eyes tearful and full of love, as he ruffled his son’s now long brown locks. His Cain’s appearance may have changed over the centuries, but that face, those eyes, that look, everything about him was still fully Cain, his first child. His beloved child.

“You are my son, Cain. I could never stop loving you.”

[supercorpkid]

Would it really kill you if we kissed?

Supergirl. Baby Danvers. Kara Danvers x B!D!reader, Alex Danvers x B!D!reader, Lena Luthor x reader!

Word Count: 3125

Part 1 of 3

It’s late when the conversation dies out. Kelly is lulling Esmé in her arms, while Alex clears a spot in Kara’s bed to lay Esmé down more comfortably—even though they’ve been saying they should head home for a while now. It’s definitely late for a kid to still be up.

Kara leans in, her voice a conspiratorial whisper. “We should go on vacation.”

You’re not sure what kind of reaction your sister was expecting, but it’s clear she doesn’t get it. Lena only raises her eyes from her wine glass, Alex’s brows knit together, Kelly keeps humming softly to Esmé, and you can’t help but sigh.

“No, come on, guys. I mean it. We should do it!” She insists, undeterred. “Take Esmé somewhere different. Go somewhere nice—all of us.”

“Ummm.” You make a sound, just to break the silence that’s stretching too long.

“What’s up?” Kara frowns. “Why is no one excited?”

“Because.” Lena answers, a single word with no follow-up. You nod in agreement.

“Because what?” Kara presses, exasperated.

Alex finally ventures the real explanation. “Kara, you don’t do vacations. Remember when we tried that ‘sisters trip’ a few years ago? You left Y/N and me stranded at the airport because of a Supergirl emergency.”

“Yes, I know.” Kara winces. “I’ve been apologizing for that for years now.”

You and Alex exchange a look. “And we’ve forgiven you,” you say, almost amused.

“Heh, jury’s still out on that,” Alex mutters, shrugging.

“But we don’t believe you anymore.” You give Kara a half-smile, seeing her open her mouth to protest. “It’s fine, Kar. We know you can never truly relax. It wouldn’t be fun, so we’d just rather not go.”

It’s a terrible lie. Alex and Kelly could definitely use a break, and they’d love to take Esmé somewhere nice and different. Lena looks like she’d kill for a vacation, and you wouldn’t mind stepping away from the endless 'saving the world' chaos your life has turned into.

But if you’re honest, going on a trip with Lena—specifically—sounds like a terrible idea. Your love for Lena has grown to the point of suffocation, devouring your thoughts and swallowing whole chunks of your day. Her face and voice are embroidered in your mind, and sometimes you struggle to tell what’s a memory and what’s just your imagination.

Kara, sensing the resistance, tries again. “No, I mean it this time. I can ask J’onn and M’gann to stay back and cover, and—” She pauses at your collective eye rolls, lowering her voice. “And even if I do have to come back, you guys can still stay. Please. I need this.”

She’s dead serious, and you know it. Lena quickly concedes, admitting you all could use some time off. Kelly doesn’t need much convincing either. But you and Alex still share a look, as if remembering that time she’d left you both waiting at an airport in Australia and never showed up.

Kara looks at you and Alex, her eyes pleading. “It would mean the world to me if we could go somewhere and be normal for a few days.”

You’re the first to waver. Obviously. She knows how much you crave a sense of normalcy. But you haven’t felt normal since the day your pod crashed on Earth, taking you and Kara away from Krypton’s certainty and into this chaos. It’s not like a vacation would change that.

Alex picks up Esmé from Kelly’s arms and lays her down in Kara’s bed with a sigh. “Oh well, I guess we’re going on vacation.”

Kara’s face lights up, but before she can cheer, everyone shushes her. Esmé has finally drifted off. Kara grins, pumping her fist in a whisper. “Yay!”

The next morning, just as you’re getting up for work, Alex is at your door, munching on a box of donuts. Which is a dead giveaway that something’s wrong—she doesn’t do sugar this early unless she’s nervous. You open the door, already braced.

“Alright, what’s up?” you say, brow furrowing. “You don’t normally start your day with a sugar rush.” You reach for the box, but she twists away, holding it out of your reach.

“Uh-uh. I need this.” She says, half-chewed donut in her mouth as she steps inside. “You’re the reason we’re all going on this vacation.”

“Am not!” You sigh, wandering to the kitchen to fill your coffee mug, hoping caffeine will help you handle this conversation before your brain fully kicks in. “It’s not like I’m dying to go.”

“Could’ve fooled me.” she says, arching an eyebrow, as if she knows more than she’s letting on.

Confused, you shoot her a glance. “God, Alex. Going on a trip with Lena is about the last thing I need right now.”

“Really?” She smirks, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Because it sounds like the perfect chance to finally do something about it.”

You huff, running a hand through your hair. “Or… and hear me out… I could just not go?”

“Oh, no way! You got us into this; you’re not backing out that easily, you little shit.”

“Again, this was all Kara’s idea,” you mutter, taking a deep breath. But Alex doesn’t bite. She watches you closely, her expression softening, as if she’s waiting for you to say something else—something you haven’t been able to admit out loud. You take a deep breath, fighting back a wave of nervousness.

You swallow hard, feeling your heartbeat in your throat. “I think Kara might… be in love with Lena.”

Alex doesn’t answer. Doesn’t deny it and tell you that you’re obviously wrong. That your sister wouldn’t fall in love with her best friend, that you’re just imagining the worst case scenario so you don’t have to act on it. She doesn’t say a word.

“Well?” you prompt, a mix of frustration and dread rising up.

“Well, what?”

“Do you think Kara’s in love with her?”

Alex lets out a long sigh that hangs in the air between you—and that’s how you know. She’s been thinking about it too.

“I don’t know, Y/N,” she says gently, seeing the tears gathering in your eyes. “But what if she is?”

You look down, struggling to keep your voice steady. “Then… then I’ll just… have to back off, right?”

“Back off more?” Alex’s voice is soft but incredulous. “You’ve been pulling away for months. To the point where Lena actually asked me if you hated her.”

Your chest tightens. “I don’t hate her,” you murmur, voice catching. “Obviously. I just… it’s too hard. Being around her and not doing something about it. And just as hard wanting to.” You let out a shaky breath, pressing your forehead to the cool counter. “Please Alex, can you find out if Kara has feelings for her?”

“No. That’s on you.” You lift your head, giving Alex a look of pure pleading. “Nope. No puppy eyes, Y/N. Kara’s your sister too. And I still don’t get why you haven’t told her any of this.”

You groan, burying your face in the cool marble, and holding up your index finger. “Donut me.”

“Classy.” she says, popping one onto your finger, and that’s the end of that.

Alex wasn’t kidding. She won’t talk to Kara about your suspicions, and as for you? You can’t bring yourself to do it either.

There was a time when you would’ve told Kara everything—more than you probably should have. But these days, it feels like there’s a wall between you. An invisible one, but solid all the same.

Maybe it’s the way she loves supering—the way she lights up at the mere thought of saving another day. And you… well, you’re still trying to learn to like it. Which is worlds away from loving it.

Or maybe it’s the way she feels so responsible for you, as if she’s obligated to take care of you. Lately, she's been acting so much like a mother that a few weeks ago, you accidentally called her Alura. The awkward silence that followed was heavy. Neither of you has brought it up since.

And then there’s Lena. The real wedge between you and Kara, and the reason you can’t find the words to talk to her about any of this. She would know. One look, one slip, and your sister would know you’re hopelessly tangled up in feelings you have no business having.

Despite all these reasons not to go, you find yourself packing for a vacation on a private island. Lena has arranged everything, from the secluded bungalows to the chef she hired to prepare your meals. You’re not complaining—it’s hard to argue with paradise—but somehow, it feels far from what a ‘normal’ vacation is supposed to look like.

As the island draws nearer, the knot in your stomach only grows tighter. Because, God, it’s just the six of you—Kara, Alex, Kelly, Esmé, Lena, and you. Nowhere to hide. And no distractions from the truth you’ve been so desperately trying to avoid.

Banging on your door pulls you out of sleep the next morning. “Auntie! Auntie!” Esmé’s voice rings out, cheerful and insistent.

You stumble over to the door, while using your superspeed to change, throwing it open with a wide grin. “I’m up, I’m up!”

“Let’s go play on the beach!” she declares, lifting her little arms toward you. You scoop her up, and she beams. “Can we build a sandcastle?”

“No way! Snowman first,” you tease, and soon the two of you are belting out Frozen lyrics at the breakfast table. Alex eventually gives you a look—half exhausted, half amused—and mouths, ‘please, shut the fuck up.’

“Meet you on the beach!” Esmé yells, racing outside, with Alex and Kelly chasing after her, leaving the table suspiciously empty.

You glance up, realizing you’re now alone with the two people you’ve been expertly dodging: Kara and Lena.

“Oh. Uh…” You force a smile. “So, what do you two have planned for today?”

“Not much,” Lena replies, her voice smooth. “A lot of reading on the beach.”

For a moment, your mind betrays you, painting an image of her stretched out on the sand in a bikini. You swallow hard, your throat dry. Oh, you didn't count on images of Lena in bikinis. Damn, this trip will be harder than you already predicted.

“I don’t have any plans,” Kara interjects, snapping you back to reality. Her expression is bright but almost pleading. “Do you want to do something together? We could fly around the island, see what’s interesting.”

It’s an innocuous enough suggestion, but the weight behind her words is impossible to miss. You haven’t really been alone together in weeks, maybe longer. She’s staring at you now, her eyes a little sad, hopeful, and you can tell she’s feeling the distance between you too.

“We haven’t hung out in a while, just us.” she says, a touch of hurt slipping through, like it’s your fault—which, honestly, it sort of is. You’ve been dodging her invitations unless Alex was willing to join. Lately, you’ve relied on Alex as a buffer more times than you’d like to admit, not ready to face everything that’s been bubbling up between you and Kara.

You hadn’t planned on confronting this on the first day of vacation, but there’s no way out now. “Oh, um… yeah. I guess it would be good to know the best spots.”

Kara’s face lights up, that bright, trusting smile of hers breaking through. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch Lena watching the two of you, her gaze intent and almost curious. Then she smiles too, a warm, satisfied curve of her lips that sends an unsteady pang through you.

“Well,” Lena begins, her tone light but pointed. “We haven’t hung out alone in ages either.” There’s no accusation in her voice, just a gentle reminder. “Maybe make some time for me too?”

You knew this was coming. The wall you’ve built, the distance you’ve created to keep your feelings hidden—it’s collapsing faster than you can stop it.

“I thought the point of this trip was  to not have schedules,” you say, aiming for a joke, but it comes out grumbly and defensive. “We can hang out whenever, I mean.”

“Perfect!” Lena’s smile widens, bright and genuine, making your pulse race. “I’ve been missing you too, you know.”

They’re not trying to guilt-trip you; you know that. But the sincerity in their words makes you feel raw and exposed, and you can’t help but feel the need to defend yourself.

“I’m sorry, the whole superhero thing…” You trail off, realizing you can’t actually explain it. Not with Kara right there. “And, um, the thesis for my doctorate…”

Lena reaches out, resting a hand over yours, her touch unexpectedly soft and grounding. “Hey, Y/N,” she murmurs, her gaze steady. “We get it. You have a lot on your plate. Really, it’s okay. We just miss you. You’re… you’re fun to have around.”

Fun. It’s meant to reassure you, but the word sinks like a stone in your chest. You don’t feel fun. Lately, every moment spent with them has been a calculated exercise in restraint. It’s exhausting—lying, hiding, swallowing words you’re afraid will slip out. It’s not fun to be hopelessly, irrevocably in love with Lena. It's not fun to know you can't do anything about it because Kara might be in love with her too. And it’s even less fun to not be able to be yourself around your own sister.

You stand up abruptly, plastering on a smile that feels almost painful. “Cool. I’ll just, uh, grab something from my room, and then we can go flying?”

Kara nods, visibly brightening. “Perfect!”

But as you walk away, a sinking feeling settles over you, knowing that the closer you get to these two, the harder it is to keep pretending.

You actually like flying. Seeing the world from above, watching your problems shrink to nothing but blips—it’s your favorite power, if you’re honest. When you and Kara first discovered what you could do, you felt invincible, legendary even. Like a hero in some ancient Kryptonian folktale. But the thrill didn’t last.

Before long, it became “don’t use your power—wait, please use it—be a hero—but only for the greater good, never for yourself—be a hero—save everyone—forget what you want—be a hero!” Now? It doesn’t feel half as exciting as it once did.

You both land on a quiet beach, the waves lapping against the sand, and you look around, frowning. “This doesn’t really seem like—”

“We should talk.”

“—the best spot.” you mutter, the words stalling as her tone hits you. You feel your heartbeat spike, hammering loudly against your ribcage.

“I can hear your heart racing,” Kara says softly, almost apologetically. You try to steady it, but the thumping only grows stronger as you realize what’s coming. There’s no way around it—you’re finally about to confront what you’ve been dodging for months. “Y/N, will you sit with me?” she asks, patting the spot beside her on a driftwood log you hadn’t even noticed. You make your way over, bracing yourself.

“What’s up with you, ie?” The word in Kryptonian tugs at something deep inside you, a pang of longing for home, for the uncomplicated love you shared as kids. Her hand settles on your shoulder, warm and grounding. “You’ve been so distant from me. And don’t start with the thesis or the superhero excuses. I know it’s not that.” You open your mouth, but she cuts you off. “You’ve certainly had plenty of time for Alex.”

You roll your eyes, maybe too hard. “You can’t seriously be jealous of Alex.”

“I’m not jealous,” she insists, her gaze softening. “I’m worried. You’re my little sister. I promised mother and father I’d always keep you safe, that you’d always have family in me.”

“I’m safe, we’re family,” you reply, shrugging off her concern. “I don’t see what there is to worry about.”

“This,” she says, gesturing at you in frustration. “This distance. You’re pulling away from me like I’m the enemy.”

“Kara, you’re overthinking it.” you say, feigning a breezy tone. But she’s right, and you know it. She’s barely scratched the surface, and already you feel yourself unraveling. So you get up, turning your back at her and you hear a sigh behind you.

“I know you’re in love with Lena!” she says, her voice breaking the silence in one clean strike. You go still, holding your breath as her words hit you like a blow.

“What?” You try to sound unaffected, but your heart’s stuttering tells another story.

“I know you well enough, Y/N.” Kara makes sure you know it’s on her, that she was the one to figure it out. “I’ve noticed the stares, heart skipping beats, blown wide pupils. I’ve noticed how kindly you say her name, and how fond you talk about her.”

“So you think I love her?” You finally turn around to face her.

“I know you do,” she says firmly. She won’t let you deflect this time, won’t let you squirm out of it. “I’m your sister,” she means biologically, her voice tinged with something close to accusation, almost as if she is mad you'd confide to Alex and not her. “Why wouldn’t you tell me?”

“Because—” You falter, the excuse fizzling out in your throat. “I’m dealing with it, okay?”

“By ignoring her?” she presses, stepping closer. “And me?”

You swallow hard. “Among other things, yeah.”

Kara’s brow knits in confusion, like she’s searching for some other answer, something that will explain why you’re pushing her away too. “Why me?” she asks. “I get why you’d need space from Lena if you don’t want to act on it, but why shut me out?”

You can’t answer. Not when you can barely make sense of it yourself. You want your sister to be close, you need her closer—but being near her feels like one more reminder of all the things you can’t have.

When you stay silent, her expression shifts, something like realization dawning in her eyes. But you don’t wait to see where her thoughts land.

“Well, as fun as this has been, I promised Esmé I’d meet her at the beach,” you say abruptly, stepping away.

You’re just about to lift off when you hear her voice, soft but unyielding. “We’ll talk when you’re ready.”

You take to the sky, flying to the other side of the island, hoping the wind might strip away the heaviness clinging to your thoughts. But even as you busy yourself building sandcastles with Esmé, your mind drifts back to Kara’s words—and the truth you’re trying so hard not to face. In all fairness, all you can do is think about the feelings that you hide and sit in silence waiting for a sign on what you should do next.

[lottiesgrl]

𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘄𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗿𝗵𝗶𝗮𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗻 𝗮𝗳𝗳𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻

cw: fluff, slight angst, rhiannon is a stalker, mentions of murder, heavily inspired by @rhiannonsknife's works

rhiannon has always felt like nothing to other people. at most, she's the comic relief of the office, someone to pull the pisser any time her coworkers feel particularly cruel. but at worst? at worst, she's nothing at all. she doesn't exist to other people. she passes like a ghost through the lives of all of her colleagues, her so-called "friends", and pretty much every stranger she meets, as well.

but to you? oh, to you, she's everything.

you have no idea why people have the tendency to overlook her when she's such a ray of sunshine in your life. she brings you coffee at exactly 9:15 am on the dot, with two sugars and a little bit of cream just like you mentioned such a long time ago. you always give her a kind smile and thank her profusely, which makes her beam, as none of her coworkers even acknowledge when she does this for them (aside from, of course, when she messes it up)

it's this subtle display of affection that has rhiannon absolutely obsessed with you. i mean, why wouldn't it? you're the first person in a long time to simply acknowledge her existence, much less treat her with kindness. you always catch her staring at you when she thinks you're engulfed in your work, and she quickly sputters and pretends to be intently staring at her (not even turned on) computer screen.

god, if only you knew the extent to which she actually looked at you. if only you knew the way she sat outside your apartment, watching you intently through that one window with the curtains always pulled.

it only gets worse when you start to return the favor. you've heard her complaining nonstop about the shitty equipment she has to work with that barely works half of the time anyways, and so one day, you decide to surprise her with a whole new set of equipment, wrapped up in a pretty little bow. it takes everything in her not to burst into tears on the spot, her voice shaky as she thanks you over and over again.

every waking moment is consumed with the thought of you. the way you smile at her, the way you smell (she totally hasn't taken several items of your clothing when you were away from home), the way your eyes light up when you see her, the way you're so unapologetically yourself and people like you for it.

but no one likes you as much as she does. no one could ever come close to loving you as much as rhiannon.

after many, many weeks of not so subtly yearning for you, rhiannon finally decides to ask you out with a shy smile and the biggest bouquet of flowers you've ever seen. you ask her in concern how much they cost but she ensured you that she'd rather spend her money on you. it's such an easy yes - you'd been enamored by her for longer than you can remember. the look on her face when you say yes makes your heart flutter, her eyes wide and misty.

you'd do anything for her, and she'd do anything for you. she'd truly do anything. and you love it.

so what if that means she'd murder someone for you?

[befuddledcinnamonroll]

Episode 3! I need my fluffy boys more than ever this week. Save me, chaotic college men.

Yessss, give me the PerthSanta flirting.

I'm liking the Faifa and Wine scene too. Wine not being afraid to speak up about Faifa's drunk driving, Faifa making sure Wine is not uncomfortable with his attention, and showing he's emotionally attentive.

Drunk Arm is just adorbs.

Good to see Jet laying down some tough love. Arc has shown some frustrating qualities before, but the car stuff was truly terrifying behavior, and like Jet points out, could kill someone.

Oh, love this from Arm. That we shouldn't want to do the right thing just because of how it affects someone else, but also how it affects us and those who care about us. Awesome.

Seatbelts, once again bringing the gays together. Cars should really lean more into this in their advertising.

Is it me, or is Book working the cuteness extra hard this episode? Look at those Bambi eyes!

I love that MarcPoon are speedrunning their relationship this time!

Lolol, so Warm has an inside line to Arc's mom, that explains a lot. Can't keep anything from that man.

And so glad that Arc's friends are also scolding him! Holding people accountable is an act of love.

Not the shot between the legs!!! Poor Po. I'm dying. But have to admire Arm's confidence.

Y'all are killing me with cuteness today!

ARC!!! He still doesn't understand you are interested in him romantically, you gotta be more direct my dude.

Love that their solution to Po sleeping over all the time is to make a giant bed for all of them.

Lol, poor Po may rethink his decision to move in with these two smitten idiots.

The smitten idiocy going both ways.

Haha, I knew it was Arc's pin. I've put in my time with college BLs!

Yesssss, finally Arc! Good boy.

Also we all noticed Arc looking at Arm's lips multiple times, yes?

Oh no, not our babies getting into a fight next week! Whump incoming!

[episodes-ff]

Grateful Days

Armando

Sitting in my bed, I moped and grimaced at how shitty everything has turned over the past few days. I’m still truly upset about the failed proposal, but more than anything I’m upset with myself for how I handled it. After sobering up, it finally sank in how royally I messed up things. Staring at my phone as I waited for the possibility of her call, I sighed realizing that it was me who should be doing the apologizing. I don’t even know how I could allow myself to say such hurtful things to my heart like that. Shaking my head as I remembered the words, I decided it was high time I be the bigger person and go win my woman back.

Taking a nice hot shower, I collected my thoughts and feelings and came up with a genuine approach of apology. Stepping out, I quickly dried off and began dressing as the panicked nerves set in at the possibility of losing her forever. Pulling on my pants, I stressed looking for a decent shirt before settling on a grey long sleeve and placing on my chain. Making sure I looked presentable and smelled good for her, I started searching for my keys as more hope rose within me. Still looking for my keys, I heard a knock at the front door. “Mike, will you drop it? I already told you I’m fi-“ “Hi.” She spoke not making eye contact as she twiddled her fingers. “Hey, um come in, come in!” I rushed allowing her entry as I straightened up some loose clothes. Taking a seat on the couch, I sat next to her and as she waited awkwardly to speak. “I need to tell you something.” “No, me first.” I insisted taking her hands into mine.

“Diamonté, I am so deeply sorry for what I said to you that night. It replays over and over again and it makes me sick to my stomach that I even uttered something so hurtful to you. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, I barely deserve to be in your presence right now, but trust me when I say I’m sorry from the bottom of my heart. I truly regret the decision I made and if you don’t ever want to see me again, I’ll have to find a way to live with it. I just wanted to express that.” I recited as she sat looking down at our hands. Watching her knee bounce nervously, she burst into tears as I hugged her in concern. “Shit, I’m sorry, Dee, I didn’t mean to make you cry, bebita.” I hushed rocking her back and forth in my arms. Sniffling, she wiped her eyes before pulling back to look at me. “Armando, I’m pregnant.” She panted breathlessly as her tears continued to fall.

“You are?” I murmured happily as I took hold of her chin. Nodding, she wiped more of her tears. “I was supposed to tell you that night but when you proposed I got so nervous that I threw up. That’s why I ran off. I meant what I said about my answer being yes.” Holding her cheek in my hand, I smiled kissing her forehead as I started to cry. “You forgive me for being an idiot?” “Yes, you forgive me for not speaking up?” “Of course, baby, come here.” Meeting my lips, we shared a longing and meaningful kiss as I embraced her and rubbed her back. “How far along is the baby?” “I’m not sure yet. The first appointment is in a week.” “Are you excited?” I asked earning her sweet laugh. “Yes, I want a little girl.” She smiled as I coasted my hand across her stomach. “I do too.” I simpered before leaning down to kiss her lips again. “One more question.” I asked nervously. “Yes, I’ll marry you, Armando.” She smirked as I chuckled and went to grab the ring. “Good because you had me waiting long enough to put this on your finger.” I joked as I slid it in place on her left hand. Standing up, she hugged me tightly and kissed me once more making my heart skip a beat. “Now my turn to ask.” “Sí, mi vida?” “Can you please come back home so your son can stop asking where you are?” She huffed as I laughed nodding. “Of course, my baby.”

Terry

“Baby, get up! You’re too heavy for all this!” Anaya whined as I ignored her requests and got more comfortable on top of her. Today is one of my first full days off and I’m taking all the advantage I can get. Baby girl is fed and sound asleep in her crib, the bills are all paid, I’m not on call, and it’s not my night to cook. Yeaaaa, I’m gonna enjoy this. Or at least I had hoped I would. “Terry, get up or so help me God, imma smack you.” “You wouldn’t dare, Anaya.” I groaned deeply as I started to doze off in the soft pillows of her breasts. Feeling a hard sting to the back of my head, I shot her a deadly glare as she cackled. “Don’t give me that look, I told your heavy ass to move. Now get up so I can pee.” She fussed like a proud mama before getting up and twisting hard to the bathroom causing me to laugh. “Stop doing that stank ass walk.” “You love it though.” She countered from the commode as I shook my head.

Shutting my eyes once more, I felt the sweet and supple warmth of sleep taking over my body before being rudely interrupted by Anaya’s antics. “Baeeeee.” She whined grinding on me as I groaned. “Anayaaaa, I’m tryna sleep. Damnnnn.” “Fine, if you don’t love me just say that.” She spat moving to the other side of the bed. Clenching my jaw, I yanked her over to me by her nightgown and hovered over her face. Leaning down to her ear, I caressed her cheek with my hand before gently wrapping it around her throat. “Anaya, this the last time imma say it. I’m trying to get my rest and all this moving around and shit finna piss me the fuck off. I’m asking as nicely as possible, baby, just take a nap with me. Please?” Nodding slowly, I sighed before releasing her neck and cuddling back up to her chest while closing my eyes. “Put me to sleep, Daddy.” She purred softly rubbing my scalp as my eyes shot open.

** HOURS LATER**

“Ouuu, baby, let’s get these! I think they’d go nice with the room.” Nodding groggily, I followed aimlessly as she pointed out different items decorate the house. After putting Anaya to “sleep”, we napped for a good 45 minutes before she got hit with the home decor bug and she insisted that we needed to get supplies to finish the house. We are now three stores deep with no sign of retreat, and Daddy and baby Maya are completely over the experience. “Bae, you’re not even looking!” “Anaya, we have more than enough time to finish the house. Why can’t we just chill today?” Giving me the death glare, I smacked my teeth following her with the cart as she continued to shop. Turning into an aisle, I realized I forgot to grab water for the house and tried excusing myself to go and grab it. “Bae, I gotta grab water, you and Maya gone be okay for a few minutes?” “Yea, baby we’re fine.” “Aight, keep your phone close in case.” Nodding, she kissed me goodbye and I made my way to my destination.

Grabbing what I needed, I headed back to our original aisle before halting as I heard a guy. Peeking around to where they were, I noticed an older man standing too close as Anaya frowned up in anger holding Maya to her chest. “Look I’m not gonna tell you again to back the fuck up.” “We got a problem?” “Nah, young buck, I was just-“ “I believe I was asking her.” “No, it’s fine. He was just leaving.” She said putting Maya in the cart as he huffed in disapproval. “Will you just hear me out?” He asked grabbing her arm when I lost it. Setting the water down, I yanked him off his feet before holding him up to the shelving of the aisles. “Nah, motherfucka, you hear me out!” I seethed as Anaya cried for me to stop. “If you ever set foot near my wife and child again, I fucking promise you it’ll be the last thing you do!” I spat as my blood boiling more and more just thinking about this clown touching my lady.

“Terry, stop! Please! Just put him down.” She pleaded as I glared him down icily. “Gimme one good reason I shouldn’t fuck yo shit up right here.” “She’s my daughter.” He heaved out as I looked at her for confirmation. “He’s my dad, Terry. Just put him down.” Setting him down slowly, I faced her as she rubbed my arms and calmed my anger. “Explain, Anaya.” “He skipped out when I was two years old and it’s been just my mom and I ever since. Apparently he’s been living here in Miami so this run-in was not at all anticipated.” Nodding as I absorbed her words, I further calmed down as we exited the aisle, checked out, and went home. Relaxing day my ass.

Thank y’all for being so patient with me! The scene with Anaya and Terry was inspired by this video so I hope y’all enjoy.

Tags (Based on interactions, if you’d like to be added or removed let me know): @violetmuses @believeinthefireflies95 @brisunique @kaylaahisthebestest- @madxlov3 @armandosbabymama @casualsludgeshoetoad @mauvecherie-writes @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @theereina @kumkaniudaku @geneziesm @megamindsecretlair @simpledopeme @goldenjasssy @vivaalenaa @playgurlxoxo @ghettogirly @luuvprincess @perfectlyimperfectme @tbmotw @comfortzonequeen @melanin-honeyy @strawberrymoon45 @luckygirlszn @kindofaintrovert

[seongwars]

forget me not | ix

Pairing: Jeong Yunho x witch!Reader AU: non-idol | supernatural Summary: Yunho should be happy--he's got everything going for him and he's set to marry the love of his life! So why is he standing outside of your shop on the night of his engagement party? Word Count: 5.3K Warnings: some angst, fluff, a smidgen of smut

Fic Masterlist

a/n: crying happy tears because this is the final chapter 😭 a big thank you to everyone who followed along on this journey ❤️

“Do you think I did the right thing?”

Wooyoung blinked, surprise flickering across his face as he processed your question. His ears twitched slightly, betraying his curiosity, and he tilted his head, trying to gauge the weight of your words. 

“What do you mean?”

“By giving you the card to pass on to Yunho,” you clarified, voice softer, tinged with a vulnerability you hadn’t allowed yourself to acknowledge until now. You looked down, unable to meet Wooyoung’s gaze directly.

He studied you carefully, his expression thoughtful as he tried to piece together what you were feeling. 

“Are you saying you regret it?”

"Here," you said, thrusting the small embossed business card towards Wooyoung. The red and white design stood out crisply against your fingertips. Wooyoung eyed it suspiciously, eyebrows raised, as if the card might bite.

"What's this for?" he asked, one hand on his hip, the other reluctantly reaching out to take the card.

You shifted, resisting the urge to pull back. "I need you to deliver it to someone," you mumbled, glancing away to hide the blush creeping up your neck. But the avoidance only seemed to encourage Wooyoung’s mischief.

"Right," Wooyoung said, drawing out the word with a sly grin. "Does this someone happen to be tall, jobless, and obscenely handsome?"

You glared at him, your face heating up even more. 

"Just... give it to him, okay?"

"Alright, alright," Wooyoung said, raising his hands in mock surrender. He pocketed the card, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Way to tell him you forgive him."

You huffed, crossing your arms. "It’s not about that.”

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, boss," Wooyoung grinned. He slipped the card into his pocket, patting it for emphasis. 

“I’ll make sure this ‘mystery someone’ gets your little peace offering.”

You paused, letting his question sink in. It would have been easier to answer with a simple "yes" or "no," to shut down the conversation and avoid the ache you felt creeping into your chest. But instead, you found yourself caught in the truth of it, unable to ignore the swirl of emotions stirring inside you.

“No…” you began, though your voice wavered. “It’s not that. I just… I know he’s upset with me, and I shouldn’t be feeling this way, even though I was the one who left.”

“You know, just because you made a choice doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to feel the weight of it afterward. It’s human to feel conflicted. It doesn’t make you wrong, and it doesn’t make what you did the wrong choice.”

You bit your lip, eyes tracing the edge of the wooden counter as you turned the question over in your mind. Yunho had hurt you, in ways that felt like they had carved out parts of you that you’d never get back. 

The thought struck you like a whisper in the back of your mind: Hadn’t you been the one to erase him from your life? You’d been the one to choose oblivion over memories, to protect yourself from the ache of what had once been.

"He still thinks about you, you know," Wooyoung said softly, his tone holding that rare tenderness you’d only seen when he was truly serious. 

Your grip on the counter tightened as you struggled to absorb his words, a familiar ache in your chest now tinged with a quiet yearning. It felt surreal—after all this time—to think that Yunho might still care. That perhaps, despite everything, he hadn't let go.

“I’ve never seen him happier than when he talks about you or hears your name. He’s still holding onto you, even if you can’t see it. And I know the wound is still fresh, but you have to believe me when I tell you—he loves you, wants to make things right.”

The sincerity in Wooyoung’s voice made you look away, blinking against the sudden sting in your eyes. Yunho loves you. You’d told yourself a thousand times not to let those words get under your skin again, to keep the walls you’d built firmly in place. But here was Wooyoung, breaking down every defense with a few simple truths you weren’t ready to face.

“It’s just...” You struggled, each word feeling like a confession. “What if it’s not enough? What if I’m still afraid he’ll hurt me?”

“I get it. You have every reason to be scared. He could have ignored that card and disappeared. But he didn’t. He’s willing to fight for you and face all of his own mistakes.”

Wooyoung’s words softened the edges of your fears, giving you just a sliver of courage you didn’t know you still had. Yunho hadn’t been perfect, but Wooyoung’s words reminded you that people could change, that maybe both of you had been hurting alone for far too long.

“Just...give yourself permission to feel it. To remember what it was like before everything went wrong. He’s not asking for everything all at once. He’s just asking for a second chance.”

You tried to recall the last time you’d truly allowed yourself to think about your relationship with Yunho—not just the heartbreak, but also the warmth and beauty of your friendship. Yunho wasn’t just a memory; he had been your best friend, your first love, the one person who understood you in ways no one else ever had.

You remembered the way he looked at you at the beach, the way his eyes held promises of a future you could almost believe in, making you think–if only for a moment–that “forever” was something within reach. 

Maybe, in some ways, you were still that person—naive, trusting, willing to hand over your heart with expectations that perhaps no one could ever meet.

But were you still that person now? 

So much had changed. You had changed. You had learned to protect yourself, to keep Yunho and everything he’d meant to you at arm’s length. It was safer that way—easier. If you never let him back in, he could never hurt you again.

When Wooyoung told you that Yunho, despite your rejection, still harbored immense love for you, you were stunned. Yunho's love had never wavered. Wooyoung saw it as clearly as the breath Yunho drew each day, as naturally as his heartbeat.

It was okay to feel, to take your time, to allow yourself the grace of uncertainty. You didn’t have to have all the answers or know where each step would lead. It was okay to be scared, to admit that this meant something to you. 

And maybe all you needed to do was…try.

As the thought settled, muffled voices, sharp and angry, punctuated by the heavy thud of footsteps were heard from outside the door. You straightened, heart racing as you focused on the noises, feeling an unmistakable surge of supernatural energy.

“Don’t fucking touch me.”

You moved to the shop’s entrance and peered through the small window, immediately recognizing the voice. 

Yunho. 

He was surrounded, eyes wide with frustration and something deeper—fear. And surrounding him, dark forms shimmered in and out of sight, their twisted shapes flickering as they taunted him. 

Without thinking, you threw open the door and stepped out into the night. The cold air bit at your skin, but the chill was quickly forgotten in the surge of adrenaline that took over.

“The shop is temporarily closing, so you’ll all have to wait a little longer. No exceptions!” 

A chorus of groans erupted from the creatures encircling Yunho. They would have to return when the shop reopened to gather whatever trinkets were needed for Lord Death’s Night Parade.

In one fell swoop, you reached out, fingers finding Yunho’s wrist. He flinched at your touch, a brief spark of surprise in his eyes, but you didn’t let go. Instead, you tightened your grip and pulled him toward you, drawing him away from the creatures’ prowling forms. 

You took a deep breath, the weight of the moment sinking in as you slammed the emporium door shut. Yunho stood beside you, breathing hard, his wrist still loosely held in your grasp. His gaze was fixed on you, eyes wide and disoriented, as if still processing what had just happened.

You loosened your grip, letting your fingers slide from his wrist with a gentleness that felt almost foreign amidst the intensity of the night. His skin was cool under your touch, and you could feel a faint tremor, as if fear and shock still held him in their grip.

“Are you alright?” you asked, voice low, each word softened by concern as the urgency of the encounter began to fade.

Yunho looked at you, his breath steadying. "I... I think so," he replied, his voice shaky. "Thanks for pulling me out of there."

“Oh…you’re welcome,” you replied gently, hoping to ease his mind even as you saw how shaken he was. 

“The veil is incredibly thin right now. That’s probably why you were able to see and feel them. The other travelers, I mean.”

His presence was almost overwhelming, making your heart pound in your chest. The way his eyes widened slightly as he processed your words made you want to reach out and reassure him, to tell him that everything would be alright. 

"It's... it's not something that happens often," you added, your voice softer now. "But when it does, it means the boundaries between our world and theirs are almost nonexistent."

Yunho’s expression was unreadable, his eyes fixed on you, then shifting away as if he were searching for something in the silence between you. His gaze fell to the floor, tracing patterns on the worn wood as he seemed to gather his thoughts. 

The quiet stretched on, your anxiety building as each second ticked by. A thousand worries filled your mind—what he might think, what he might feel, now that he had glimpsed the world you’d become a part of.

"Why were you out there?" you finally, breaking the silence, your tone gentle, though curious. 

He hesitated, searching for words as his face softened. 

“I…was in the neighborhood,” he murmured, though there was an edge to his voice that suggested there was more left unsaid.

Your heart skipped a beat. You took a half-step closer, tilting your head to catch his eye, a playful smile tugging at your lips. 

“In the neighborhood, huh?” you echoed, sensing the familiar warmth of his presence. 

“Alright…maybe it wasn’t entirely by chance,” he admitted. His lips twitched, and he exhaled a small, resigned laugh, glancing down before looking back at you. 

He lifted his hand, revealing the small, slightly crumpled business card between his fingers. 

“I just wanted to see you.”

You felt the weight of Yunho’s gaze, his admission wrapping around you. It was as if all the memories you shared—moments of laughter, quiet conversations, the comfort of simply being together—were coming back to life, filling the silence around you. 

Your voice came out softer than you intended, almost a whisper. 

“You still wanted to see me after everything?”

“Especially after everything,” he murmured, his words carrying a quiet certainty that melted the last of your doubts.

“So you’re not…upset with me?” you asked, your voice barely audible, as if speaking any louder might shatter the delicate moment.

You’d been bracing for this moment, convinced that Yunho must be holding onto resentment, that he’d come to finally air out the hurt you must have caused him. You hadn’t given him the closure he deserved, instead choosing to leave things unfinished.

But his eyes, so achingly familiar, held none of the anger you’d feared. They were filled with something…gentler.

“Oh god, Y/N,” he said quietly, his voice calm but filled with urgency, as if he’d been waiting just as long for this moment. 

“I could never be angry with you. You have every right to be upset, I was the one who hurt you. I was careless with your heart, and that’s on me. It’s my fault.”

His admission left you speechless, each word stripping away the defenses you’d built. He wasn’t here to lay blame or defend himself; he was here to own the truth of what had happened.

“You did hurt me, Yunho.” 

The words came out softer than you expected, each one carrying a weight you hadn’t realized you’d held so tightly. Pain, long buried, surfaced as you finally spoke the words you’d once been too afraid to voice. 

“I felt like… I wasn’t enough for you," you admitted, the ache woven through your words. "Like no matter how hard I tried, no matter how much of myself I gave, it was never going to be enough.”

The sting of tears welled up, and you drew in a shaky breath, fighting to keep them at bay. You looked down, biting back the flood of emotions, as a huff escaped you—a last-ditch attempt to pull yourself back from the edge of breaking.

“I just wanted to feel like I mattered,” you whispered. It was as if saying it out loud for the first time gave it weight, made it real, and you felt the bittersweet release of finally letting it go. 

“To be the one you turned to, not the one you left behind.” 

When you looked up, Yunho’s gaze was unwavering, his eyes glistening as they held yours, reflecting the pain and regret you’d both felt.

“You’ve always been more than enough. I was the one who was too scared to see it, too afraid to do what was right, to be there for you when you needed me most.” 

Yunho took a step closer, his hand lifting slowly to rest on your bicep, his touch gentle, almost hesitant. The warmth of his hand seeped through you, grounding you in this fragile moment, pulling you back to a time when things were simpler, when trust between you was instinctive.

“I can live with the weight of my mistakes,” he continued, voice rough with honesty. “But I can’t live without you. I tried for three years, and every day was worse than the last. I hated it.”

He was painfully earnest, his voice tinged with the kind of regret that had its own gravity. You looked up at him, a gentle smile breaking through your otherwise solemn expression as his fingers traced gentle circles against your arm.

“I’m sorry I made you feel like you were anything less. You’ve always the best part of me. I just didn’t realize it until it was too late. If there’s even a small part of you that’s willing to try again, I’d give anything for that to happen.”

The honesty in his words made your heart ache. All those times you'd wondered if you truly mattered to him seemed to unravel before you, evident in his words, his touch, and his gaze.

You searched Yunho’s face, catching a glimmer of hope, and realized that despite the years, lifetimes, and distance, maybe…just maybe, there was still something worth saving.

“I love you," he whispered, his voice trembling but resolute. "For as long as I can remember, and for all the lifetimes I couldn’t. You’ve been mine for so long, but I want to be yours.”

Your hands reached for his, as if drawn by an unseen thread. Rising onto your toes, you leaned closer allowing Yunho to close the distance. He pulled you into a kiss that felt like a promise, an apology—everything he’d withheld and everything he longed to give. His hands settled gently on your back, holding you close, as though grounding himself in this moment.

The kiss was slow, adoring, and vulnerable, filling every empty space within you. Yunho’s lips pressed against yours, gentle and reverent, it felt like coming home, like stepping into a future you’d always dreamed of but never dared to hope for.

When you finally pulled back, breathless, you looked up at him, your heart racing. A smile tugged at his lips, and he rested his forehead against yours. 

"I love you too," you murmured, your voice barely a whisper, but just loud enough for him to hear. 

Yunho gently cupped your face with his hands, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheek as he leaned in for another chaste kiss. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his breathing steady but filled with that same quiet intensity.

"Take it slow with me?" you asked, your voice a soft plea, tinged with vulnerability, putting your heart into his hands, hoping he would keep it safe.

Yunho’s face broke into a smile. Slowly, he moved his hand down, his fingers threading with yours. He held your hand between both of his, pressing a tender kiss to your knuckles.

Life in the shop had settled into a comfortable rhythm, woven with little rituals that had become second nature. Each morning, you’d light the incense, watching as tendrils of fragrant smoke curled up to fill the air, a silent invocation for another day’s mysteries to unfold. 

Yunho, meanwhile, would be wrestling with the coffee maker, half-asleep as he mumbled curses under his breath, yet somehow managing to coax it into yielding two cups of strong coffee.

His work as a recruiter kept him busy. Some days were filled with back-to-back phone calls, scouting reports, and meetings with stakeholders. Other days, he’d be out in the field, his energy brimming as he made connections with future talents. 

But on quieter days, when he was in the shop, he’d drift down from his makeshift office to check in on you, often caught in wonder at some relic or enchanted object before remembering his intent to whisk you away from your responsibilities. 

Today of all days, though, Yunho was off to Namhae, scouting a promising player. Before he left, he had lingered a little longer, offering you a reassuring smile as if to say he’d be back before you knew it. And as the door closed behind him, the shop felt both a touch quieter and warmer, his absence a gentle reminder of the quiet home you’d built together.

“What do you think about starting a delivery service?” Hongjoong asked, pulling you from your reverie. His eyes sparkled with that unmistakable gleam, the one that always appeared when he was on the verge of something new.

You raised a brow, eyeing him with amused curiosity. “A delivery service? Are we low on customers?”

"Not exactly. But now that you can leave the shop, and with Yunho around, we actually have the manpower to pull it off." 

"Something tells me…this was spurred on by Lord Death.”

Hongjoong’s cheeks reddened slightly, and he huffed, crossing his arms with exaggerated indignation. 

"Seonghwa has no idea what he’s talking about! He said we wouldn’t last a week if we ever ‘ventured into the delivery business’—said I’d lose interest by day three!”

Hongjoong waved a dismissive hand, brushing off any lingering doubts. "Well, I’m going to prove him wrong. By the time we’re done, our services will be able to expand to other realms. Might need to hire another hand for that."

With a dramatic flourish, he snapped his fingers, summoning a swirling puff of smoke that quickly dissipated to reveal...a hand-drawn presentation, sketched in thick, colorful strokes. It hung midair, and you couldn’t help but chuckle at the almost childlike quality of it. 

The first page of Hongjoong's plan was a roughly sketched map, barely more than a few wavy lines connecting a series of floating islands labeled "Other Realms," each island outlined in a different pastel shade. It was whimsical yet somehow serious, as though his haphazard lines could shape whole worlds. He tapped his finger on a small dot labeled “Astral Emporium.”

"This is our expansion plan. Right now, we’re here," he continued, pointing to the shop on the map, "but soon we’ll be...everywhere!"

“You really think Yunho and I are up for running around, delivering enchantments and charms to every corner of the city?”

Hongjoong chuckled, his smirk widening as he crossed his arms. 

"Actually, more like Yunho and Wooyoung. You and I will rotate manning the shop, keeping things under control. All we have to do is equip Yunho with a pair of magical glasses, and he’ll be able to spot clients without worrying about the veil."

You imagined Yunho, looking unexpectedly dashing with enchanted glasses perched on his nose, pedaling a vintage bike through the bustling streets. Wooyoung would be nestled in a woven basket up front, surrounded by tiny glass bottles of potions and carefully wrapped charms, all neatly packed and ready for delivery.

“I’m sold.”

"Really?" Hongjoong’s eyes widened, sparkling with delight. The sorcerer laughed heartily, clasping his hands together in a rare moment of unbridled joy. 

“Seonghwa’s going to eat his words,” Hongjoong said, his voice brimming with triumph and a gleeful satisfaction that was hard to resist. 

He turned back to you. “Before I forget,” he added, casting you a sidelong glance. "You planning on visiting your parents anytime soon? Leaving magical seed packets isn’t the same as actually seeing you, you know."

The question lingered in the air, and you felt a familiar ache bloom in your chest. You shifted uncomfortably, your gaze falling to the counter as though it might offer some answer. 

The last time you’d visited, it had been nothing more than a quiet spell—a small enchantment to slip through unseen, to place a few enchanted seed packets by their doorstep, enough to help your dad achieve his goal of growing the ultimate vegetable. 

It was the closest you’d come to a real visit since Yunho had broken the shop’s hold on you, freeing you from its grasp and allowing you to walk the world on your own terms.

“I know,” you murmured, running your fingers along the worn edge of the counter. 

"But they’ve already grieved, Hongjoong. They’ve accepted that I’m gone. It’s probably better that way. If I showed up now, after all this time…” You trailed off, your hands fidgeting as if your fingers could occupy the unsettled thoughts in your mind.

“I’d just be tearing open wounds that have barely healed. They’ve found a kind of peace, I think. I don’t want to be the one to undo that. And maybe,” you added, voice almost a whisper now, 

“Maybe it’s a way for me to move forward, too.”

Hongjoong’s gaze softened, a trace of understanding settling in his expression. “I get it,” he said, his voice gentler than usual. “But remember, you don’t have to carry all of that alone. Just because they can’t see you doesn’t mean they’ve stopped loving you.”

You managed a small, grateful smile, nodding in silent agreement. For now, it would have to be enough to leave small reminders of your love—a packet of seeds on their doorstep, wordlessly expressing your affection. 

The bell above the emporium’s door chimed, its familiar ring sparking an instant thrill in your chest. You turned, heartbeat quickening just a little at the sight of Yunho stepping inside. He noticed you immediately, his expression softening as he took a few easy strides toward you.

“Hey,” he greeted, voice warm and low, a tone he seemed to reserve just for you. He reached out, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. The touch was a reminder that home was here, and it was wherever he was.

“Long day?” you asked softly, your entwining with his as he let out a chuckle, nodding.

“Long but worth it,” he replied, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. “Especially knowing I get to come home to this.” His gaze lingered on you, and even as he glanced around the shop, it was clear his words were for you. The tiredness in his expression softened, and for a moment, everything felt perfectly in place.

Hongjoong looked on, a satisfied smile playing on his lips as if he’d always known that, somehow, you and Yunho would both end up here, together, ready to face whatever came next. 

And for Hongjoong, that future definitely included his long-planned delivery service.

Hongjoong cleared his throat dramatically, breaking the quiet between you and Yunho. “Well, since we’re all feeling cozy and inspired,” he said with a mischievous sparkle in his eye, “might I propose a little idea?” 

He snapped his fingers, and with a soft poof, a floating, hand-drawn presentation appeared, complete with a slightly crooked title that read, “Yunho: The Delivery Driver.”

A deep chill had crept in with the early dawn, settling over you as you instinctively curled up tighter, trying to preserve whatever small warmth remained. Groggily, you reached out, fingers searching for the missing blanket, only to find nothing but the cool, empty edge of the bed.

Squinting against the morning light, you rolled over, and there he was—Yunho, cocooned in what could only be described as a fortress of blankets. He lay sprawled out, half-buried in a mountain of covers, blissfully unaware of conditions on your side of the bed. 

You sighed, rolling your eyes as you tried to tug a corner of the blanket back. But Yunho shifted, clutching the fabric even tighter, as if sensing your mission in his sleep.

“Yunho,” you whispered, nudging his shoulder. “You’re hogging the blanket.”

A muffled sound came from his side, something between a grunt and a sleepy laugh. One eye cracked open, blinking groggily at you, and a lazy, mischievous smile spread across his face. Without warning, he reached out, his arms wrapping around you as he pulled you against his chest, the blanket effectively forgotten as his warmth enveloped you.

“Who needs a blanket when you’ve got me?” he murmured, burying his face into the crook of your neck. 

"I'm half naked and freezing," you whined, exasperated. He smirked, his fingers tracing slow circles along your spine.

“How about I give it back if you beg for it?”

You huffed a laugh, but his hand on your back, gentle yet insistent, was quickly making you forget your original mission. He tilted his head up to meet your gaze, his eyes dark, and before you could respond, he leaned in, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. Then another, closer, teasing.

“In your dreams,” you shot back, rolling your eyes as you tried to turn away, but Yunho only grinned and smoothly flipped you onto your back, pinning you gently under him.

“Y’know,” he murmured, his voice low and playful as he braced himself above you, “Dream You would’ve folded by now.”

“Oh, would she?” you replied, raising a brow, trying to feign annoyance even as your pulse quickened. 

He chuckled, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “Yeah, she tells me how much she loves it when I’m rough with her,” he teased, leaning in to kiss you again, this time deeper, his lips pressing against yours in a way that made you melt, his warmth seeping into every inch of you.

“Well she’s wrong because I love it when you wear your glasses.”

Your hands found their way to his shoulders, fingers curling as you pulled him closer, the blanket entirely forgotten as he kissed you, slow and deliberate, as though he had all the time in the world. You could feel his smile against your lips, his playful challenge lingering in every brush of his mouth.

Yunho wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling you flush against him. He ground against you, his movements unhurried, savoring every shared breath, every flicker of connection between you. The warmth of his skin against yours sent a shiver down your spine, heightening the anticipation that hung thick in the air.

Your nails lightly grazed the delicate hairs at the back of his neck, drawing a low, contented hum from him. You traced along his nape, feeling the warmth and tension melt beneath your touch as he dipped his head, his lips brushing along your jaw before trailing down to your collarbone.

Your senses heightened with each delicious drag of Yunho’s cock against your walls—the warmth of his skin, the whispered promises between each kiss. You tangled your fingers in his hair, tugging him closer, feeling the way his heart raced in sync with yours. 

Every touch, every kiss, every slow, tender motion felt like a culmination of countless lifetimes. Yunho wasn’t just here with you; he was here with every version of you that had ever yearned for this closeness, for the feeling of being truly seen and loved. 

And now, here he was, holding you close, as if he had always known you would eventually find your way back to each other.

Yunho whimpered your name into the curve of your neck, his movements becoming rougher, each touch and thrust a silent promise woven across time as the heat between you surged to a crescendo. 

He pulled you closer, his urgency spilling over as you felt yourself unravel, swept up in the bliss that enveloped you both. His gasps blended with yours, and in the haze of it all, you were aware only of him—his scent, his warmth, and the way he fit perfectly against you.

“Love you. God I love you,” Yunho murmured softly, his voice tender and thick with emotion. 

You giggled, reaching up to brush his tousled bangs from his forehead, your fingers gently tracing the lines of his face as you took in the softness of the moment. The warmth in his gaze made your heart flutter, even in the gentle light of early morning. The world outside was waking up, but here, wrapped in his arms, it felt as though time had slowed just for you both.

“Love you too,” you whispered, your voice filled with the same affection that he’d poured into his words. “But…” You grinned, tapping his nose playfully. 

“You’re going to be late for deliveries.”

He groaned in protest, tightening his hold around you, as if to shield himself from the reality of a busy day waiting just beyond the sheets. 

“Just a few more minutes,” he grumbled, his voice muffled against your skin. “Deliveries can wait. I’d rather stay here with you.”

You felt his breath tickling your skin and laughed softly, only to hear a loud, impatient voice call from the other side of the door. 

“Y/N! Feed me, I’m dying of hunger!” Wooyoung’s dramatic tone was followed by a series of thumping sounds as he pawed insistently at the door. 

"I’m going to die!" he wailed, drawing a groan of frustration from Yunho. Your boyfriend sighed, glancing at the door with thinly veiled irritation.  

“I swear, he has the worst timing,” he muttered, shifting reluctantly as though debating whether to let you go. He held you tighter instead, as if Wooyoung’s complaints were some distant nuisance that could be ignored. 

“Y/N!” 

With a soft laugh, you planted a kiss against the tip of Yunho’s nose in an attempt to placate him. “He’s just lonely,” you murmured with sympathy for your familiar.

“He probably needs a friend to keep him occupied. He seems to be making it his mission to ruin your mornings.”

Yunho rolled his eyes, muttering something about demanding cats under his breath, but before he could say more, a dramatic wail sounded from the other side of the door.

"I’m fading away… I can see… the light…” Wooyoung yowled, his voice an exaggerated plea for attention.

“Alright, I’m coming!” you called out, with a chuckle. 

With a playful smile, you pressed another quick kiss to Yunho's lips. His eyes softened, the irritation all but forgotten as you stepped toward the door. You glanced over your shoulder, catching the trace of a smile breaking through Yunho’s resigned expression.

The threads of your past lives wove delicately between you, fragile yet enduring, stronger than time itself. Fate had always teased the possibility of you together, leaving behind only fleeting traces and unfinished stories. But in this life, you had taken the first step—crossing the line, to lower the walls you had so carefully built around your heart. 

For so long, you’d been bound to the shop’s mysteries and the shadows of your past. Now, you felt a sense of release, as if a tether that had held you in place had finally loosened, granting you the freedom to shape your own path. With Yunho by your side, every moment held the promise of something new, a life you could build together. 

And you couldn’t wait. 

a/n: it was always going to be a happy ending, I had to set it up for the epilogue hehehe 🤭

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