#and how boring and cliche THAT'S become
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Broke: Only fucked-up relationships are interesting in stories! Healthy couples are BORING!
Woke: CONFLICT is what's interesting in a narrative and often conflict IN A RELATIONSHIP is what can make a story out of that relationship, but this does not have to mean that the relationship itself is unhealthy or "fucked up" as a result. Conflict can come from anywhere, whether it's inside the relationship or something the people involved are facing outside of the relationship that impacts their dynamic. Healthy couples are not inherently boring any more than toxic/fucked-up couples are inherently interesting. The quality of the story and the way the writing weaves the conflict and the relationship together is what creates a compelling narrative. Simplifying it down to "only fucked-up relationships can be compelling in a narrative" is just unhelpful and untrue.
#look at the way people make fun of the genre of 'straight white couple breaks-up/gets a divorce'#and how boring and cliche THAT'S become#look how much 'marriage story' got made fun of in here and how it's continued to be a meme on this website#that's a story about a fucked up couple but did that make it inherently interesting?#vs the way everyone lifts up monica and chandler from friends as the best relationship there BECAUSE they were healthy#they had their share of disagreements and conflicts both within and without but never veered into toxic territory#and THAT'S what continues to make their relationship compelling despite being a healthy couple#stop saying healthy relationships are inherently boring and toxic relationships are inherently compelling challenge 2k24#BOTH can be interesting and have their place in storytelling
113 notes
·
View notes
Text
i've been watching the trump rally at madison square gardens on youtube and its fucking unreal. first guy to speak is some comedian with the most bitter and humorless little laugh and he's just throwing out every boring, cliched racist joke he can think of ("latinos have so many kids, they don't pull out, they come inside...like they came in our country!" yes he actually said that) and the crowd response is like lukewarm at best at any of them.
Then the guy is like "yea trump got shot in the ear...which if you think about it is literally the coolest place to get shot" and the crowd is like literally silent
and then the next guy comes out and he's a painter and he gives a little speech about how everybody said he was never going to make it as an artist because he was conservative and didn't bow to the woke left. And now he's going to do a live painting which is like okay.
So he starts painting on this big canvas and pretty soon it's clear that he's trying to paint an american flag or like part of an american flag, and he's blocking in colors like purple, red, white, blue, orange okay and at first it seems like he could go back and blend it all in and make it look really good but then he starts just like smearing all over the canvas with his fingers and it becomes apparent that the painting just looks like ass actually and it's going to look like ass for the foreseeable future
So then he like, peels back some masking tape or something that was on the canvas revealing a cutout of a black and white image of Trump...hugging the empire state building?
What
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
LUCIFER MAGNE - H.H.
Prompt: Lucifer continuing to wear his wedding ring despite being in a relationship with you.
Genre: Angst and hurt; somewhat fluffy (but only for a brief while). Warnings: Swearing. Unhealthy relationship/coping mechanisms (?). Word count: 2.2k+
Lucifer had been courting you for a couple of months already, the King of Hell finally deciding it was time to make the two of you official. The tension was so incredibly thick, that even the hotel’s patrons were growing sick of having to watch the two of you dance aimlessly around each other. Charlie included.
The past couple of months were more than delightful – Lucifer treated you like a Queen, taking you out almost every other night, having nice candle-lit dinners, and dancing the night away. And if you weren’t really feeling the glamour, the both of you would stay cuddled up against one another whilst watching some cliche rom-com. It was like a dream. It was perfect…well, almost.
The very source of your concerns was the golden band that remained in Lucifer’s ring-finger.
You knew about the heart-break and torment that Lucifer underwent following his separation with Lilith. Understandably, having been together for many decades and centuries, the King had a difficult time trying to move on. Even in the earlier stages of your relationship, when he had been comfortable confiding in you, it was evident that he still deeply cared for Lilith, despite her absence.
You tried to be understanding – you really, really did. But every time you held his hand, the cold metal feeling against your fingers set a painful reminder that maybe he still hasn’t moved on completely.
It filled you to the brim with self-doubt. Perhaps he was just keeping you around just to fill in the void she had left. And if that were the case, were you even doing a good enough job in that? Hypothetically, if Lilith were to waltz in front of the hotel’s doors one day, was he going to throw you off to the side and run away with her? What if he’d grow bored of you all of a sudden?
Questions such as these would linger at the back of your head constantly, and as they did, you would cast a longing gaze in his direction. When he catches your eye, he would automatically send a smile your way, pearly-whites in full display. It would make you smile without fail, because how could it not? You loved that dashing smile of his. But everyday, you wondered if you could continue to maintain that smile in your life.
One night in particular, during dinner at one of Hell’s finest establishments, Lucifer noticed that something was off. Your smile hasn’t been reaching your eyes, and you seemed like you were anywhere but here. Your eyes had a distant look to them and whenever he’d ask if something was wrong, you would become dismissive. It concerned him a lot.
“Darling, are you alright?” Lucifer carefully asked once you both made it to the front porch of the hotel. “Was it the food? Was it not to your liking? Because the chicken was a bit off to be honest, it could’ve been a bit more seasoned–”
“Luci,” you intervened and grabbed his hands, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “The food was great, really. It’s just…” As your voice trailed off, you were quick to feel that damn ring around his finger. Because, of course you did, and it didn’t help your mood at all. You force out a huff and pull away, causing the demon’s frown to deepen, “I’m feeling a little under the weather tonight – probably just lacking a bit of sleep.”
Lucifer scanned your face all over, his brows furrowed in worry. “Well…I guess you have been working harder for the hotel recently.” There had been some truth in that – after all, there had been an influx of sinners in the hotel since the cancellation of this year’s extermination. But he didn’t seem to stop there, not fully convinced by your reasoning, “...But are you sure that’s all, my dear?”
You looked at him, surprised, as if suddenly caught red-handed. He was quick to pick up on that too, confirming his suspicions and making him all the more nervous.
“What are you trying to say?” You ask.
“Well, i-it’s just that I noticed that you’ve been acting a bit off recently,” he splutters. “And not only tonight. You’ve become a bit more…I don’t know, distant with me. And it worries me, y’know? I just…I really, really care about you. A lot.” He almost looks defeated as he rubs anxiously at his nape, “And if I’m being honest, it scares the absolute shit out of me that what I’m doing now isn't right."
Your brows crease in confusion, “...What are you talking about?”
Lucifer closed his eyes, dragging a palm against his face as an exaggerated groan leaves his lips. “Look, I’m not exactly experienced with all…all this – the one woman I’ve ever been in a committed relationship with left me. Just like that!” He lets out a humourless snort. “A-And I don’t know what I did to make her leave and I for sure don’t want to make that same mistake again. I…I want to be assured that I’m making you happy.”
Lucifer looks up at you, eyes filled with warmth, as he places a gentle hand against your cheek. He breaks the distance between you to press his forehead against yours. You automatically lean against him out of habit. “I don’t want to lose you. And if I’m doing something wrong, tell me. Please, don’t shut me out.” He pleads, his voice almost falling into a whisper. The unexpected confession left you speechless, your chest feeling all the more tight. It was making you feel worse than you already did.
You let out a shaky sigh, trying to keep the pending tears at bay. “Luci, I’m sorry. I didn’t know…I-I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. Trust me when I say that you’ve been nothing more than a gentleman, and every moment we’ve spent together has been magical. I appreciate you so, so much, and I could never, ever ask for anything more.”
You shut your eyes tight, shame filling your very core. “I’m just being a little silly–”
“No, no. Don’t say that, darling. Please tell me what’s going on. It’s okay,” Lucifer encourages softly, his thumb rubbing reassuringly against your cheek.
You grab his wrist and gently pull your face away from him. With the hand on his arm, you slide it down to grab at his own, bringing it up into view and in-between the both of you. Almost instantaneously, both your eyes lie on the golden band on his finger – to Lucifer, it suddenly clicks. But he couldn’t help but feel an internal conflict brew within him.
“I-I know how much that ring and Lilith means to you. I really do and I feel awful having to feel this way, but I just…I can’t help it,” you mutter, finally allowing the first couple of tears to fall, “I-I often find myself counting the days and hours when you’ll suddenly realise that I will never be good enough for you. It feels like I’m constantly having to compete with her–heck, what am I even saying? I know I’ll never be able to compete – because, I mean, come on. I'm a nobody!” You chuckle tearfully whilst gesturing to yourself with a free hand.
“And I don’t think I’ll ever understand how you’d ever settle for someone like me. I’m not nearly as important, nor am I the best-looking demon out there. I’m just me.”
“But Lucifer, whenever I’m with you, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. I smile more. Laugh more. I even enjoy the little things more. And I don’t want that to go away. And I’m just hoping– Satan, I’m fucking hoping that it’s the same for you. And if it is, then how long is that going to last with me?”
Completely shocked, Lucifer watched in silence as his love sobbed their heart out in front of him. He wanted nothing more than to go and wrap you in his warm embrace, and whisper reassurances and hush down your cries. Because, you were right – you did make him happy. So unbelievably happy. You had been the light that casted away the shadows in his darkest times. And yet, why? Why did he remain where he stood, unmoving as tears pathetically poured from his eyes? Why wasn’t he saying anything?
There was a brief, stagnant moment of contemplation where the both of you just stood there. It was the realisation that Lucifer didn’t make any effort to formulate some form of response, that disappointed you even further. It only made the doubtful voice in your head louder.
It was you who ultimately decided to make the first move, wiping tiredly at your reddened face as you glanced at the hotel’s door. “I’ll be heading off first. I’ll be in the guest room tonight – it’s been a long day,” you raspily say, hiccuping as you pushed through the doors and disappeared into the hotel, leaving Lucifer alone outside.
As you entered the hotel, you immediately noticed Husk’s presence by the bar, who had been polishing some glasses by the counter. In front of him was Angel, who was making some sweet, small talk with him. They were both alerted by your entrance as the doors flew open, and as Angel was about to greet you in his usual playful fashion, his voice fell flat when he saw the depressed state you were in.
“Woah, there. What the hell happened to you? You look like shit,” Angel asked, standing to meet you half-way, “I thought you and Short-King were out on a date. Did something happen?”
“We were but we had a fight or something,” you tiredly shrugged as you walked past the arachnid and plopped yourself down on one of the bar stools. You swirled yourself on the seat to face Husk. “Give me the strongest shit you have. And make it double,” you waved absently at the feline-demon, who raised an incredulous brow at your bluntness. “Damn, it must be that serious considering you don’t even drink,” he grumbles as he turns to start brewing a glass of something, “...do you wanna talk about it?"
You contemplated his offer for a second and realised that you did. For the next five or so minutes, you ended up recounting everything that happened earlier tonight, all the while shedding even more tears. Angel was kind enough to supply you with a mountain of tissues to cry into.
“Well, it sounds to me that your man’s got a whole lot of thinking to do,” Husk clicks his tongue. “But what you’re feeling is completely valid.” “Yeah, who the fuck wears their ol’ wedding ring while dating someone else? What an asshole,” Angel hisses.
“S-So you guys think there’s a possibility that he might consider ending things with me?” You question dejectedly. Husk and Angel share a look of uncertainty, suddenly feeling the need to be careful of their words. Because they genuinely weren’t sure.
“I–Look, that’s not something we should be focusing on at the moment– I mean, of course, let’s hope that that’s not where this is going. I just think he needs some space to think things through properly,” Husk says.
“And I know I was talking a whole lot of shit before but let’s take the benefit of the doubt and look at things from his point of view. He was in that boat for more than a couple thousand years. And shit, that’s a lot of fucking years.” Angel points out. “It might take him a while longer to adjust to that, y’know?” Angel places a hand on your shoulder, grinning at you reassuringly, “But there’s one thing for sure that myself and everyone else knows: the guy loves yah, toots. Anyone with eyes can see it, and you guys are really fucking disgusting about it too–ow!”
Angel suddenly lunges forward against the counter as one of Husk’s wings swipes down to slap the back of his head. “‘The fuck was that for?! It’s true, ain’t it?!” Husk rolled his eyes at his dramatics, before turning back to you. “He’s right, though. Just…just give him a bit more time. I’m sure in the end, the both of you will be fine.”
Meanwhile, Lucifer decided to head back to his own castle, wanting to be alone to sort through his cluttered thoughts. He was beyond upset with himself for making you cry like that, because it was the last thing he wanted. But he was more upset at the fact that he didn’t know how to navigate through his emotions, despising that he found himself second guessing his feelings.
As you explicitly implied, was he really still unconsciously longing for Lilith? Was that why he kept wearing his ring? Why was he still wearing it? Was it just for his own comfort? But why would he need it anyways? You were there, weren’t you? All he had said to you tonight, he was contradicting himself, wasn’t he? Perhaps he’s scared. Maybe he isn’t ready yet. But, why would he be with you if he didn’t think so? What exactly were you to him? And what exactly was Lilith to him now?
Lucifer was a complete mess, and that night he couldn’t find a single blink of sleep as these thoughts plagued him. And neither could you, as you scrutinised every aspect of your relationship, thinking of what this could mean for the both of you, moving forward.
Yeah…perhaps you both needed some time.
Chapter II [x]
#lucifer magne x reader#lucifer morningstar x reader#hazbin hotel x reader#lucifer magne#lucifer morningstar#hazbin hotel
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
I miss wwx………
#he’s my ultimate babygirl.#warning: rant incoming in the tags#ugh hes such an enjoyable protagonist and its always so much fun when he is on the scene#like when I started to read mdzs I knew loosely what it was about#but I really like how when we are introduced to wwx he feels like a fresh breath of air abd it doesn’t become boring as he is the pov#i don’t know. I just really like the little guy#the romance between wwx and lwg could’ve been so tropey and cliche but i really believed their chemistry.#like when they had scenes together I was always so excited and entertained cause it felt believable#also I love the difference between wwx and lwg and their similarities#like on the paper they are exact opposites of each other- not only personality wise but also visually#but despite that they are very similar when it comes to their values and morals and share a lot of similar opinions#idk how to describe it but it feels natural they are insterested in each other#like they are not just attracted to each other and the relationship progresses because of that#but they find each other interesting and intriguing.#and because of that they seek each others company etc#ugh I’m not gonna ramble too much but yea. I just think they are very neat :)
0 notes
Note
Does mafia!Steve's Reader ever get jealous? Maybe there's a businesswoman or mafia related one that Steve has to have meetings with and reader gets jealous?
Nesting
Not an inch away
mafia!Steve Rogers x female reader
warnings for the part below: some angst; soft!dark Steve Rogers; mafia!Steve Rogers; possessive behavior; arranged/forced relationship;
~ * ~
You shouldn't care. You really shouldn't, you tell yourself as you watch Steve open the restaurant door for that other woman to enter.
A woman that looks stunning in a body-clinging white dress and killer heels, not a single thing out of place in her confident persona.
She tilts her head and smiles at Steve, who reciprocates with one of his most charming smiles - one that gets you weak in the knees when he flashes it at you.
He told you he'd be home late because he has boring business meetings to attend to, so you talked your bodyguards slash enablers - Natasha and Yelena - to go to the movies and for some greasy food afterwards.
It's pure coincidence that the spot you picked for your snacking was opposite of a fancy restaurant to which Steve took this woman.
You know plenty of women have successful businesses, but you don't think a mob boss of Steve's caliber would actually do any business with one of them. In a romantic restaurant at that.
Natasha's face is perfectly impassive at the sight, but Yelena cringes as if she feels bad for you for seeing this.
You tell yourself that it shouldn't matter. This whole arrangement, one practically forced upon you after Steve found out about your pregnancy, is one you wanted out of at first, right?
The elegant, shiny ring on your finger, which you grew to love and often looked at with a fond smile, now reminded you of the cage Steve trapped you in. Gold, pretty cage.
With how intense and dotting Steve was, you actually believed the cage could become a warm house, with a faithful, loving husband.
Seemed you were going to become a cliche, instead. A wife to produce heirs to a mafia king, while he fucked around with whomever he desired.
Perhaps you should walk into the restaurant, make a scene, throw a drink in Steve's face. Throw it at that woman's white dress.
But you only clench your hands on the paper bag with takeout you bought to eat at home (your pregnancy is turning you into a bottomless pit). You straighten your back and keep your head up high as you march to the car and get inside, Natasha and Yelena slipping inside soundlessly.
Yelena tries to say something, explain Steve's actions, but you tell her you're not interested.
"I don't care." You announce as coldly as you can, quite proud that your voice doesn't crack with how hurt you feel inside.
At home you devour your food. And some chocolate muffins that you baked in the morning. Each bite as delicious as heavy, your stomach revolting with the bitter jealousy and anger at the thought of what Steve was up to.
Are they having a romantic dinner and smiling at each other across the table? Is he sliding his hand up her thigh and under her dress? Does he make her come silently in front of all the patrons?
Will he take her to a hotel room, or one of his apartments that he owns all around the city, and fuck her into a screaming mess?
Will he fuck her better than he did you last night... yanking a fistful of your hair as he wrecked you into a dripping mess and praised you, A good little wife, taking all of me so well.
Ripping apart another muffin, you decide on your next step. You know running away wouldn't work. For one, you have two guards, who may be friendly, but still were loyal to Steve and what he said triumphed over whatever you wanted.
Secondly, even if you managed to slip out, Steve would find you. And he'd drag you back into the cage and the life he builds with you beside him.
You can't leave the penthouse, but you can make yourself a safe space in one of the free guest rooms.
Since Steve's dipping his dick in other woman's cunt, he doesn't need you sleeping beside him.
You definitely don't want to touch him when he reeks of other woman's perfume. You don't even want to see him.
So after you drag most of your stuff from the main bedroom and hastily put it in the closet in your new room, you close the door. Just in time, because less than ten minutes later the echo of firm footsteps resounds.
You flip a book open, trying to focus on the printed words and not on the way your heart hammers in your chest as you hear Steve's footsteps aiming for the main bedroom.
A vicious part of you hopes that he is a shocked, seeing that you're not there.
Not in the huge bed, naked under soft covers, waiting for your husband lord and master to throw you a crumb of his attention.
The emotionally heaving part of you shudders in sobs at the image of Steve simply not minding that you're not there.
Maybe he's only a little surprised, but brushes it off and simply takes a shower to wash off the remnants of that woman's arousal and his own sweat. Then he'll get into bed and fall asleep sated, uncaring for your state as long as you obediently stayed inside.
You rub at your eyes, cursing the tears away. You shake your head and try once again to focus on the words you're reading.
But then, after a long stretch of silence, footsteps sound through the space. A creaking of door being open. Then another. Slowly moving towards where you are hidden.
Your heart rate increases, fingers trembling against the paper pages of your book.
You take a breath, willing yourself to remain calm and not show Steve how hurt you are. Play it the way mob bosses wives in movies and tv shows do it - cold and indifferent, an armor around you, so nothing can prickle you.
The door to your claimed room opens and Steve stands there in the doorway in all his stormy glory.
He frowns, seeing you sitting stiffly on the bed.
He walks inside. Sleeves of his suit jacket are pushed up, showing his forearms and twirls of tattoos. He braces his hands on his hips and gives you a look that's a combination of concern and blatant anger.
"Can you explain what's the meaning of all this?" Steve's voice is thick and raspy.
You swallow, but shrug nonchalantly as if his heated gaze isn't bothering you.
"I thought it's better to leave the main bedroom, in case you brought your companion home for the night." You say and return your gaze to the book, fighting the urge to wave him away with a dismissive gesture.
"What?" Steve's frown deepens, actual confusion showing on his face.
"I'm not sure your mistress would like seeing me there. Might ruin the mood." You lift your head and sneer at him. "So I simply made it easier for you."
"I have a mistress now?" Steve raises a single brow, remaining calm while everything inside of you was boiling.
You snap your book closed and slam in onto the bedside table. With a little huff you get off the bed and stomp over to Steve.
"No need to lie." You scoff. "I saw you. With her. Didn't know mob business meant taking beautiful women to expensive restaurants."
You push at his chest in anger, but Steve's strong, muscled body doesn't even sway at your outburst. So you push at him again, unsuccessfully, but at least you get to unleash some of your fury.
"Just do me a favor and don't bring any of your whores home once the baby is here. Stay in one of your apartments, or allow me to move into one."
You can't hold off tears anymore and as some pour out, trickling down your cheeks, you clench your hands into fists and slam them against Steve's chest.
Steve's fingers wrap around your wrists, a tight, almost painful hold that keeps your hands bound to his chest.
"You are not going away from me." He declares, a definite order.
His eyes darken, a flash of lethal danger he rarely directed at you.
"In any form." He ads, obviously meaning you switching bedrooms.
Slowly, Steve's face lightens up. Twinkles appear in his eyes and it makes another wave of annoyance surge through you.
He keeps your wrists locked in one of his hands as he uses the other hand to cup your cheek.
"Any moving you're going to do is along with me." He says and tries to lean his forehead against yours, but you pull your head back.
Steve sighs.
"Which is why," he forces you to maintain eye contact with him, "I had a meeting with Camilla. She's a real estate agent who works for me on renovating a house that I bought for us. For our family."
His words make you speechless. A house? Someplace where you'd feel more free and where your kids could run in glee.
Still, you remain suspicious. You want to assume it's just a crafty lie, you're sure Steve's good at those.
"The Infinite is a rather romantic place to talk construction." You narrow your eyes.
Steve chuckles and shakes his head. He lets go of your wrists to wrap both his arms around you, pulling you close to him despite your attempt to squirm away.
"Jealous little bird." He hums and slides one of his hands up to grip the back of your neck.
"In my line of work-" Steve leans closer, his nose tracing the line of your jaw, hot breath tickling your skin making you shiver-
"I manipulate people. Some with threats, some with sugar. And some, like Camilla, with never voiced promise of something they wish for."
Steve's soft snicker puffs across your cheek at your sneer. His lips travel toward your lips. You close your eyes at the intensity of his blue irises and the way your body reacts to the touch of his mouth against yours.
"A restaurant dinner gave her that little spark that will make her work her ass off to grand me all my wishes regarding our house. Even though not once have I even brushed an inch of her body with my fingers."
"It also happens-" the tip of Steve's tongue licks over your bottom lip, his hand starts pulling up the hem of your nightgown- "that I know how to manipulate my wife's body, so she sweats out all that jealousy and anger while she creams on my cock."
Your tiny, needy whimper makes him chuckle in dark victory.
"That what you need, huh?" He grips your buttock and kneads it. "Should I fuck you braindead every day, so that your mind doesn't come up with silly ideas?"
"It wasn't silly." You try to defend your earlier outburst, but it comes out breathy and weak.
"Thinking I could be interested in anyone else when I have your sweet, ripe body at my disposal. Absolutely ridiculous." Steve flashes you a wolfish grin.
He lifts you up suddenly, forcing your arms and legs to wrap around him. His fingers slide from your ass to dip between your thighs as he turns around and walks out of the room.
"You're coming back to our bedroom." He growls a command.
"I'm going to keep you naked and full of cum for the next few days, so it really sinks in that neither of us is stepping away from this marriage. Ever."
#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x female reader#mafia!Steve Rogers#mafia!steve x reader#mafia steve rogers#mob boss steve rogers#steve rogers x you#nesting#steve rogers smut
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
The oldest inn in Denmark sounds like something that was taken straight out of a horror story bordering on being too cliche or weird to be believable.
I present to you Bromølle Kro
We don’t know how old it is because it was first mentioned in a text from 1198 when it had already been open for years. I could go into detail about how it also used to function as a mill and store but that’s boring.
The first strange part is that the current building isn’t the original. You see, it was build on a bog and slowly each incarnation of the inn would get more and more damp, the floor would become soggy, mould would spread and the walls would bend as the whole thing sank into the ground. Eventually the owners would tear the whole thing down and build a new inn on the rubble. They did this over and over again, leaving everyone to wonder why they didn’t rebuild it somewhere else.
Then in the 1700’s guests started to disappear. It took a while for people to notice because most guests were travellers who were expected to be gone by morning anyway, but eventually so many people disappeared it couldn’t be ignored.
The couple who owned the inn were accused of getting rich patrons senselessly drunk, dragging them to their room and beating them to death with a club hidden under the bed. They then threw the victims out the window into the river that ran behind the inn.
For years people weren’t sure how true the story was. Did they really kill that many people? How would that even be possible without anyone seeing or hearing it?
Then in the 1950’s people wanted to straighten the river out for convenience and after they temporarily dried it up they started digging and found a skeleton. And another. And another. And another.
In all they dug up 28 skeletons from one small stretch of the river very close to the inn. And those were just the ones they found.
And despite all this the inn stayed in business. It wasn’t closed despite repeatedly sinking into the ground. It didn’t close when the owners were hanged for being serial killers. And it didn’t bother anyone that they had been sleeping and dining next to murder victims for years.
Today the ground has dried up and you can even enjoy the view of the river while you have lunch. They keep two of the skulls in the reception and named one of them Frede (a name that means peace/rest) for your viewing pleasure.
And somehow Bromølle Kro just keeps going and going…
#Bromølle Kro#creepy story#history#serial killer#it is of course said to be very haunted by wet ghosts
8K notes
·
View notes
Text
Please, Mr Postman
Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader
Rating: 18+ Explicit
Warnings: Unprotected PiV sex, butt play, creampie, oral (f receiving), and lots of sex toys. No ages mentioned or alluded to. Reader is married. There are themes of infidelity, blackmail and stalking, but Reader is fully consenting and willing. Mailman Joel is a sleaze, consider youself duly warned.
Word Count: 4.3K (by far the longest thing I've ever written, whew)
Summary: Every morning at 9am sharp, you take your coffee to the front room and listen for his mail truck.
Notes: Poking my nose out of my hiatus hidey-hole to write this as a gift for my very very dear friend @magpiepills for the prompt "Stole your mail and uses it to sexually blackmail you mailman Joel". I love you, my sweet Bat. 💜 Giant thanks to @for-a-longlongtime for the last-minute rapid beta read. Much love to my sluts for cheerleading: @youandmeand5bucks @exquisiteserotonin @arcanefox207 @sparklefarts38 @redhotkitchen I have never written Joel before, so please be kind. Thank you and enjoy.
Please, Mr Postman - Joel Miller x f!reader
Every morning at 9am sharp, you take your coffee to the front room and listen for his mail truck. The squeak of the rusted brake pads as he parks at the end of the block is a melody, as distinctive to you now as the chimes of the classic ice cream trucks from your childhood, eliciting a Pavlovian response of salivating over the treats it held within.
Life was easy and carefree at that age. You didn't have responsibilities, grown-up worries, or this present burden of being a Stepford wife to a rich man who occasionally did some illegal activities. He was kind to you and you loved him, desired him even, but despite being a criminal he was boring. He was not the adventurous, filthy man in bed you secretly hoped for. But you knew things about his work that made it dangerous to leave, and financially he made sure you were kept comfortable enough to not want to tell. So you stayed. And here you were, marooned in a leafy suburb, stuck at home all day and fantasizing about the hot new mailman. What a cliche you've become.
The mailman's name was Joel. And he really did command attention.
Salt and pepper hair that curled around the edge of his blue cap. Dark brown eyes that showed a few flecks of amber the rare times you've seen them up close. A strong nose with a neatly trimmed mustache and gorgeous facial scruff. Large hands that could football-hold an entire package in each.
And speaking of packages: his looked prodigious. It looked obscene what he was carrying around in those standard issue United States Postal Service shorts. You dreamed about it at night -- how thick his cock must be and how you'd lick it like those sweet summer popsicle treats -- as your husband snored beside you after giving you one pitiful orgasm and then immediately coming himself and falling asleep.
You never thought anyone could be attractive in such a dumpy grey uniform, but somehow Joel found a way.
In the summer heat he always rolled up the edges of his pleated shorts, a thick pocket chain clacking along his meaty thigh. Light hair dusted his tanned legs. His black leather belt was cinched tight, further emphasizing his delicious bulge. The sleeves of his polo shirt were similarly rolled and showed off well-toned forearms from all the lifting and carrying. In short: he was a dream.
But you'd never go further than look. You loved your husband, for all his faults. You'd even placed a big order of sex toys last week in the hopes he'd be willing to spice things up in the bedroom. The tracking app says it's out for delivery, and right on cue, Joel comes walking up your driveway cradling a large cardboard box in his hands. Damn, he looks good today.
"Mornin', ma'am," he drawls politely. You think he winks at you, or maybe it's just the sun hitting his eyes. "Got a big one for you today."
You move to take it, but he shakes his head. "It's heavy. Let me put it inside for ya."
The thought of him being inside your home makes you tingle. You don't even think to consider that postal workers aren't supposed to go past a customer's front step.
You hold the door open and Joel stomps through, leaving bootprints of dirt on your "Home Sweet Home" welcome mat.
"Ma'am? Where d'ya want it?" He sounds amused, and you realize with a start that he's been standing in your entranceway for an awkward length of time. You'd been too busy ogling his legs, and more, in those rolled-up shorts. Was it your imagination, or was he not wearing underwear?
"On the coffee table, please." You lead him to the sitting room beside the entranceway. It's your happy place, your sanctuary, the spot you have your morning coffee in as you listen for the siren song of his mail truck.
Joel gently places the box on the coffee table and turns to you.
"I'll just wait here while you check that everythin's in order."
"What… what do you mean?" You feel your cheeks heat. Fortunately the box was nondescript, but it did give off a brown paper wrapping porn vibe.
"It's insured for $700. Must be some expensive stuff. 'S my job to write a report if anything's broken."
Nervous sweat starts beading down your back. "It… it's okay… I can report online if there's a problem…"
"'S no trouble. Let's just take a quick peek." Joel's already pulled his keychain ceramic boxknife out of his shorts, slitting the box open before you can say a word.
You stand there mortified and unable to speak as Joel opens the flaps, pushes aside the cushioning packets, and stares at the huge assortment of boxed sex toys.
"Well, well, darlin'. What do we have here?" His voice is a mixture of amusement and something deep and growling. Predatory.
Your face burns in embarrassment. "You… you can go now," you manage to squeak. "Please."
"Don't think so, sweetheart. Gotta check that everythin's in good working order." His boxknife shicks open the first product, a G-spot vibe from the looks of the box. Just before he can unwrap it, you find your voice. You hope you sound self-assured and assertive.
"That's enough. Please leave. My husband will be home any minute."
Joel smirks as he continues to rifle through the box. "Naw. He won't. Just did my route on Pine Street and saw him gettin' busy with that blonde divorcee in the cul-de-sac. Miz Perkins, wasn't it? Big tits."
It's a gut punch, and it makes you forget that this suddenly skeezy mailman is in your home and looking at your new collection of sex toys. An affair? He wouldn't. Not YOUR husband. Not your husband who rarely wants to do anything interesting in bed…
"Sorry, darlin." Joel pulls you out of your thoughts. "Fuck that guy. Wanna have some fun?" He pulls the vibe out of the box and waves it in front of you with a lopsided smirk.
This is too much to deal with. Your head is spinning, a mixture of emotions running through you. Including lust, incredibly enough. This mailman appears to be the take-charge dominant you wish your husband was.
"No. Like I said, you can leave now." You manage to say it firmer this time despite the gushing between your thighs. "Just go."
"Think I'll stay," he says, crossing the space between you in one step and pushing you backwards onto the sofa. "Don't want me reporting your ol' man to the authorities, now do ya?"
"Wha… what?"
He chuckles at your comically large-eyed look of shock. "Yeah, know all about it. Been readin' yer mail," he says matter-of-factly. "He's shit at covering his tracks. Who sends fake invoices through the mail? With his real address too. Amazin' he hasn't been caught yet."
"You've been reading our mail?! I should report you!" Who is this guy?
Joel looms menacingly over your prone figure. You didn't dare move. "Sure, darlin. Postal employees got a responsibility to report crime. I'll be fine," he smiles, leaning back a little, but not enough for you to escape. "But the Postmaster General don't take too kindly to mail fraud, or those aidin' and abettin'. That's a felony."
"But it's not a felony for a mailman to read people's mail?"
"Tell you what," he drawls, still in that matter-of-fact tone that should be so very wrong in this situation. He rifles through the box and pulls out a hot pink butt plug, wiggling it at you. "You're gonna let me try out some of these toys on ya, and I won't report him."
Blackmail shouldn't turn you on, shouldn't turn anyone on, but it does. You're only human, and besides, you definitely don't want to go to prison. You can't control your reaction as your upper half shrinks back into the sofa while your lower half stretches out towards Joel, the hem of your sundress hiking up like it has a mind of its own. He gives you a wolfish grin and rests a broad, heavy hand on your knee.
"Jus' what I thought, sweetheart. Seen you watchin' me out the window every mornin'. You been wantin' me to stuff your pretty little mailslot, haven't ya?"
A whimper escapes your throat. "Yes. Please," you whisper, thighs sticky between your panties and suddenly aching.
"Okay, honey. Gonna start easy with this lil' thing." He holds up a clit sucker, shaped like a penguin with a little pink bow around its neck, and switches it on to test it. It springs into life immediately. "Ah, great. Love how companies pre-charge things now-a-days."
How can he be so conversational about this? Does he blackmail all the married women in the neighbourhood? Well, maybe just the ones who have something to hide. Like you. You silently thank the heavens for sending you an attractive skeeze, at least. And Joel is so very, very attractive.
You spread your legs for him.
He ruches your sundress up your thighs and whistles appreciatively, the sound going straight to your core. "No panties? And gushin' out of that tight little snatch already? Didn't take ya for such a filthy girl."
"It's… it's hot out," you stammer, unable to think straight.
"About to get hotter," he smirks again, and damn that attitude is doing things for you. "You ready, sweetheart?"
You nod, and he keeps eye contact as he nestles your clit into the little penguin's mouth and switches it on.
Your back arches and you nearly scream out loud.
The sensation is warm, and there's no direct contact but it's like your clit is being gently suckled. You've never felt anything like it. It's only been three seconds and your hips are already squirming to chase more.
His hand presses lightly on your hip to give you something to brace against as he clicks the intensity button up a couple notches, and it's like waves upon waves of the absolute perfect pressure on your clit. The buildup in your core is so fast that you don't even realize you're coming until it's almost over. You also hadn't noticed that you'd grabbed his muscled forearm and sunk your nails into it, leaving little half-moon indentations in his tanned skin.
"That was… wow." Your gasps echo around the quiet sitting room. Joel doesn't say a word, just reverently watches your pussy pulse and gush out a few drops of slick. "Thanks." You wish it had lasted longer and were sad it was over. Oh well, a nice memory for the next time you think about Joel, or try out some of these toys with your husband.
You start to push your sundress down, assuming he'll leave now and half-grateful for it, but he grabs your shoulder and forces you back down into the pillows.
"Where you off to? I'm just gettin' started with you, darlin'."
"But…."
"But nothin'. Ain't done till I say so."
All you can do is stare at him, unsure if you should be angry, turned on, or plotting an escape.
He undoes his leather belt and slowly, threateningly, slides it out through the loops on his uniform shorts. "Don't make me use this, sweetheart. Gonna be a good girl for me now, ain't ya?" The depth and tone of his voice say he isn't joking.
You gulp, still tingly from your rapid orgasm. And ready for another one, you think as you make eye contact with Joel, feeling a bit bolder now. We're here, I let him do that much already, might as well go for it.…
The penguin gets discarded as Joel carelessly tosses it to the carpet and takes the hot pink butt plug out of the box again, running a finger along the curve of its long but slim length. "Hmmm. Pretty. This for you, or your husband?"
"Uh… me…"
"Ah, ah" he tuts. "You really are a nasty girl. You take one of these before?"
You shake your head, suddenly shy. You hadn't even wanted your husband to know about the butt plug, thinking he was so sexless that he'd be disgusted. Apparently not, if he's railing Ms Perkins with the big tits over on Pine Street.
"S'okay. Gonna slide it in real good for ya." While you shove a little sofa pillow under your hips, Joel combs through the box on the coffee table and pulls out a bottle of lube. He pops the cap and drizzles some over the plug, and you gulp again imagining it inside your ass. A faint scent of synthetic vanilla fills the air and for some reason it calms you, allowing you to relax your muscles as Joel slides the plug along your crack, rubbing and smearing the lube around your asshole.
"You like that?"
You do. You really do.
Your little moan spurs him on and he gently presses the generously lubed tip of the plug against your hole, just the teensiest bit. You look up at his face, that stupidly attractive face of a skeezy mailman who is sexually blackmailing you, and find yourself desperately wanting to feel his scruff on your inner thighs.
Apparently he's a mind reader, too. He smiles and lowers his head to your crotch, and licks your clit with his wide tongue at the same moment he presses a bit more of the plug into your ass. You nearly scream for the second time in minutes.
"That's it, honey," he breathes against your core, wiggling the tip of the plug in and out and hitting nerves you didn't even know existed back there, making your hips jump involuntarily. "Openin' up so nice for me."
A few more mind-numbing, distracting licks of your clit and the plug slides all the way in with a little pop. You're equal parts turned on and proud.
"Well, ain't that a pretty sight," Joel whistles appreciatively. He pulls up to sit back and just stares at you all spread out on the sofa with one leg hiked over the back, your sundress balled up over your stomach. He taps the pink flared base of the plug a few times like he's idly flicking away a cigarette. It wiggles inside you and you squirm and squeal. Actually squeal. You're still mad and weirded out and other things, but you're feeling too good to give up now and you're starting to not care how easily you're caving to this man.
"Lessee what other treats we got in here." He rifles through the box again. His face falls into a comical droop of sadness and he sighs loudly, holding up a little box marked 'Girth Extender Sleeve'.
"Oh, sweetheart. I'm so sorry." The condescension in his voice shouldn't turn you on this much. "Yer old man got a tiny dick? Not fuckin' you proper? No wonder you been starin' at me every day, desperate for a real man."
Before you can protest -- he's not tiny, I just wanted to spice things up, well okay maybe he could use a bit of help -- he unzips his uniform shorts and pulls out his hard cock, holding it at the base so you can take a good look. "Got a special delivery for ya, baby."
Yeah, Joel definitely doesn't need any artificial enhancement.
His cock is thick. Not super long, but probably one of the thickest you've seen, outside the few porn films you watched when you were younger and more uninhibited. There's foreskin covering what looks like a large mushroom head, and a prominent pulsing vein running up one side. It all looks delicious, and you unconsciously lick your lips as he smirks at how you take it all in.
"You want it real bad, dontcha?" He fists himself a few times, his foreskin sliding on the downstroke to give you a peek at the thick head. "Yeah, you sure do. Never knew I had such a little slut livin' on my route."
Shuffling forward, he grabs your thighs and spreads them wider. The head of his cock feels impossibly heavy as he slaps it on your clit, making you gush a little with every hit.
"Joel, will you… can you lick me again for a bit?" Your squeaky voice is impossibly needy and pathetic.
"Naw," he says, flicking the base of the butt plug again and making your hips jump. The plug was so comfortable that you'd already forgotten it was in there. "Gotta finish my route. Can't talk to customers with my face smellin' of pussy, ya know. I'm representin' the United States Postal Service out there."
"Oh, does the USPS regularly fuck its customers too?"
"Sure does, darlin'. Bends 'em over and gives it to 'em hard with the price hikes every year."
He roughly pulls you up and bends you over the sofa arm, positioning you like the personal little fuckdoll you are for him.
"Got the next best thing though." He slips on a tiny purple fingertip vibe, your free gift from the toy company for such a large order. With such thick fingers, it looks like he's wearing an upside-down Ring Pop. It gives a loud rumble when he switches it on, and he laughs as he tugs his shorts down over his thighs. "Cheap ass shit. Hope the battery lasts. But it don't take you long anyway, right sweetheart?" He reaches around your hips, lifts your sundress and presses the vibe straight on your bare clit without any preamble, and your hips slam backwards into his crotch as you scream again, his cock jostling the base of the butt plug and sending shockwaves both up and down your core at the same time.
"Yeah. Thought so."
Amid the mixed sensations suddenly comes a new one: the thick head of his cock slipping into your cunt as he swirls the vibe around your clit, not letting it rest in any one spot long enough for your liking.
"… Wait! No condom?"
"Naw. You're on the pill, right?" He doesn't wait for your answer, as if he already knows.
Normally you don't enjoy this position but you're too far gone now, pushing your hips back and encouraging him deeper in, more than wet enough from all the playing to take him in.
"Greedy little slut, ain't ya?" He feeds you another inch, pauses, then another, torturously slow as you stretch around his thickness. "Tight little snatch feels so good. Miz Perkins with the big tits probably don't feel this sweet." Joel demeaning your husband like this and throwing the adultery in your face should make you mad -- at both of them -- but it only turns you on more, beads of sweat dripping down your spine as he slides all the way in to the hilt, giving you a few moments of grace to adjust to the size of him.
One strap falls down your shoulder, letting your tit pop out of your sundress and he palms it roughly, giving it an exploratory squeeze. The finger vibe is still buzzing and he swipes it across your nipple, the nubby texture chafing just before the point of pain. "Nice. You like that? Let's add somethin'."
Mentholated 'arousal balm' was another of your free gifts, and not something you'd ever thought to try. Joel twists open the little tin and dips the finger vibe in it.
"That smells strong, do we have to?" Wooziness hits you as the peppermint smell goes straight up your nostrils.
"Like I said, baby, gotta make sure everythin' works. Else I gotta do a return," chides Joel, tossing the tiny tin on the floor. You watch it roll under the baseboard heater as he grabs your hips roughly and repositions you. "Real fucking pain, returns. Lotsa paperwork."
He brings the now-mentholated finger vibe back to your clit, and two seconds later it feels like your entire pussy is on fire.
Thank goodness he didn't put any on my a--
Joel moves the base of the butt plug aside and presses the finger vibe against your asshole.
The menthol soaks into your tender membranes and it's so, so cold and hot at the same time. Your brain melts along with it.
Everything is lit up now and you squirm as he slides his hardness back into your pussy and gives a few experimental thrusts. "Tight fuckin' snatch," he mutters, your walls clenching around him in time with his finger flicking at the plug, your entire lower half burning but not in a terrible way. "But could be tighter." He suddenly pulls his cock out and you whine, loudly and needily.
"Please, Joel."
"Please what, darlin'?"
"Put… put it back in? Please."
"All in good time. Gotta give those walls an extra little stamp."
You look over your shoulder to see him drizzling lube into the girth sleeve and slipping it onto his cock. He's already so thick that it's a tight fit, the soft tube slipping off a couple times before he finally stretches it enough so it can slide all the way on, pulling it down so his large head pokes out of the top. You clench involuntarily.
"Umm. That's not gonna fit."
"Sure it will, honey," he drawls. "Didn't think you could take that pretty little pink plug, right? And look at ya now."
He's got a point.
"Gonna stuff that little slot full to the brim and turn ya into a size queen. Open wide, baby."
He's merciless as he slides back inside, at a curved angle since you're turned slightly to brace both your hands against the back of the sofa. The extender is smooth and feels just like his skin, and you're powerless to resist the incredible feeling of the extra width. He was exactly right: you felt full. With the thick pressure in your cunt pushing against the plug in your ass, you felt more stuffed than you ever had in your life, and what's more your pussy is still burning from the menthol balm. It was overwhelming but also glorious. In that second you knew it would be impossible not to think of Joel next time your husband fucked you, even if he wore this toy. Stupid sexy blackmailing mailman.
Baby animals had more stability in their legs than you do right now, your thighs spasming uncontrollably as Joel palms the vibe around your clit while holding almost half your waist in the span of his other large paw. He fucks into you hard from behind until you're so close to coming you can taste it. With the extender, his cock is hitting spots inside you that you didn't even know you had. A heavy chain pops out of the neck of his polo shirt and hits your nape with a loud clank as he slams into you from behind, the cheap poly-rayon blend of his polo shirt chafing your shoulders in a delicious burn as his chest presses close against your back and his hips smack against your ass, jostling the butt plug with every thrust.
whirrrrrr goes the finger vibe as the tiny cheap battery dies, and he slaps your clit hard with the vibe one, two, three times and you come, yelling for the nth time since he left his bootprints on your welcome mat that morning. His grunts are loud and lewd as he fucks you through it, easing up only to make his thrusts shallower so he can reach a hand between you and gently pull out the butt plug with a little 'pop'. He tosses it and the finger vibe onto your pristine off-white carpet, not even bothering to aim for the opened box on the coffee table.
"So fuckin' tight," he wheezes hoarsely, "I gotta extra big load for ya," and he presses his hips so hard against your ass that you almost fall over the sofa arm, his voice faltering as he groans and you feel hot spurts of his come coating the inside of your pussy, as deep as he can put it.
You slump forward onto the sofa and he pulls out, both of you heaving. The fiery balm has mellowed to a gentle tingle and your core is pleasantly warm. Stretched out. Fucked out.
"Welp, gotta get back to my route." It's been only a minute and his matter-of-fact conversational tone has already returned. You peer over your shoulder and watch him pull his shorts back on, rolling up the hems and slicking his belt back into the loops, tucking his polo shirt back in with practiced efficiency.
"Will I see you again?" You hate how pathetic you sound, and you must be a real sight too, half naked with a sweaty rolled-up sundress stuck to your back, your ass still up in the air like you're waiting for him to stick it right back in and rail you again immediately.
"Oh, I'm sure we'll be seein' each other again real soon," he says smoothly.
As you stand up, knees a little weak, a drop of cum drips down your thighs. "Glad I'm on the pill," you mutter to yourself as you pat down your wrinkled sundress and pause at the mess of packaging and boxes littering your sitting room.
"About that, darlin'." Joel smiles, pausing by your front door. "Miz Perkins over on Pine Street orders sugar pills and well, you know, packages get mixed up sometimes on the route. Might wanna check you got the right pills."
Joel slams the door and the mail slot squeaks rhythmically as you stand there, horrified, listening to him whistle a jaunty tune as he walks down your driveway and back to his mail route.
#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#sleazy mailman Joel#pedro pascal character smut#joel miller fic
468 notes
·
View notes
Text
Dates with Ateez
Pairing: Ot8!Ateez × Gn!reader (individually)
Genre: fluff, reactions
Request: ateez and how/where they'd take you on a date
Warnings: mentions of food at Seonghwa, Hongjoong and Mingi's, Yeosang is an idol, some skinship at Mingi and Yunho's
A/n: idk why but for some reason I read the request as "first dates" instead of just "dates", so there are some mentions of first dates here and there lmao | daily click
Seonghwa - farmer's market
hear me out!!
this one would be very spontaneous
first of all he just wanted to cook something for you
but there are missing ingredients
and yes, he could go to the supermarket but that's boring
so!!
he calls you and you both go to your local farmer's market
one thing that you thought was gonna be quick and mundane just became a whole activity
mostly because of the cozy ambient and nice sellers, but especially because there was something so familiar and nice to have you by his side like that
it was so domestic
made him feel like a happily married man
so he makes a mental note to have more dates with you like this
and he also takes you home to make the most delicious dish ever known to mankind
(buys you fresh flowers from there)
Hongjoong - a walk around the city
i think this one would be totally unplanned
accidental even
like, you guys were supposed to only have lunch and go back to your jobs
but no one actually wants to do that right
so what starts with just a brunch turns into visiting every single store in the city very soon
and it's always so nice every single time
you guys constantly discover new spots on town because of this random walks you go to
and Hongjoong secretly loves it because even when he's alone, every single spot becomes a memory of you
soon enough the entire city is just something that is connected to you in every single way
and he obviously wouldn't complain about that
so it becomes a routine for him to just pick you up and adventure yourselves into new parts of the neighbourhood
Yunho - amusement park
you can't convince me that this isn't the most "yunho" thing ever
he would 100% take you on an amusement park
it provides you both a lot of time together and it's fun
and he's your laugh's biggest fan ever, so of course he needs you to smile
call it cliche but he would want to do the Ferris wheel kiss
not on your first date tho because he thought it'd be too much
but when you guys are already dating, he'd definitely do that
it almost becomes a tradition
at some point it's even funny because you'd look at a Ferris wheel and give each other knowing looks
and you know when there are those roller coasters and you can take a picture during the rides?
he always keeps those
not matter how blurry, how ugly or how weird it came out
he has a whole album with pictures like that
Yeosang - picnic
i feel like this would be more of a first date idea with him
that occasionally comes along every once in a while
but it's mostly about the first encounter
a low-key secluded part in the park, preferably close to a river
just something very calm and peaceful
where you could talk about everything and anything at once
maybe even play a game only the two of you
idk it feels so ideal
it's the peace he's been longing for and, considering his busy and hectic life as an idol, that's precisely what he needed
overall I think he would love dates that could provide him a bit of comfort
San - arcade
this would be so fun hear me out
it doesn't matter if it's your first or 639274th date, he will try to impress you
and he would probably succeed because he seems like the type of guy who can do everything
would win you plushies
or any other type of prize you can possibly win at arcades
and even though he's trying to impress you, there's still this playful competition between the two of you
even after years of dating it still feels like you both are just teenagers in love honestly
even a complete stranger would smile by seeing you both interacting in the arcade
after so many times going there, you guys must win some type of discount honestly
Mingi - movie night
here we're talking about a whole marathon of movies
with snacks and blankets for the two of you
in the dorms (he would kick the boys out of there)
and he would plan everything
he's actually quite proud of himself because he really thought of every single detail
and the atmosphere is just so cozy
besides the movies are your favourites with his favourites and some that you both planned on watching together
he realised that one could figure out a lot about somebody by just watching their favourite movies
anyways
the mood is super cool, you guys laughed a lot with your few comments in between scenes and you even cried together at some point
and if you do end up sleeping on each other's shoulders, it's not like he'd complain about that
Wooyoung - escape room
this right here is the perfect formula for chaos
just the two of you running, screaming and laughing uncontrollably
I can't think of something better than this
and considering you are in a relationship with Wooyoung, chaos is much needed
besides you never know how it works with him
sometimes he's working with you and then he's working against you
whatever the case is, you can bet it's gonna be fun
and you are always 1000% sure this will be a day you'll remember fondly after a while
even if all he remembers is how you fell when trying to escape from one of the actors
Jongho - karaoke
i'm almost sure I already wrote something like this
and I'm so right for that ngl
first, this is a fun date and not too cliche, but also not that odd
secondly, between songs you guys would be able to talk to each other and still have a nice activity to do afterwards
and lastly, he could showcase his vocals and hopefully woo you over with his abilities
so literally every single bit of it would be perfect
maybe just maybe, if he's feeling a bit too bold by the end of the session, he would serenade directly to you
with your favourite song perhaps
or maybe that would need to wait until your next date
because he is certainly hoping this will only be the first of many
Masterlist | you'll probably like: when they have a crush
Reminder that this is all fiction, this does not represent the members in real life!
Taglist (open!): @yuyubeans
Dividers by @thecutestgrotto | images 1, 2 and 3
#celi headcanons#ateez fluff#ateez reactions#ateez scenarios#ateez imagines#ateez soft hours#ateez soft thoughts#ateez x y/n#ateez x you#ateez x reader#ateez fanfic#ateez fic#ateez#seonghwa#seonghwa fluff#hongjoong#hongjoong fluff#yunho#yunho fluff#yeosang#yeosang fluff#san#san fluff#mingi#mingi fluff#wooyoung#wooyoung fluff#jongho#jongho fluff
294 notes
·
View notes
Text
You’re My Angel Baby (Mingi x Reader)
Summary: Y/N goes to a Halloween party and ends up taking care of a cute, drunk cowboy outlaw. Mingi wakes up in the morning with a vague memory of a girl dressed as an angel, and decides he has to meet her.
Halloween night, and somehow Y/N got swindled into joining her best friend, Seonghwa and his boyfriend, Hongjoong, to some party one of their friends planned. It took a lot of convincing, and even more bribery, but she did agree to go. She's dressed in a all white, a flowey long in the back short in the front dress with pure white boots. She put a silver, sparkly and floral headpiece in her hair and beside her sits a pair of fake white angel wings that she’ll put on when she gets out of the car. A cliche yes, but it was a little last minute. She borrowed the wings from a friend.
“Again with the pirate costume Hongjoong?” Y/N teases from the backseat. Hongjoong is wearing a bandana, white jeans, white shirt that is kinda like a blouse and a jacket. Clearly a pirate, “Is that three years in a row now?”
“Shut up.” Hongjoong snaps his usual comeback.
“You should appreciate me more Joongie.” Seonghwa pats the hand resting on his thigh, “I’ve been adapting my costumes to fit yours for years.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“But I want couples costumes!” That’s true, Seonghwa dressed up as a pirate too a few years back, then a parrot, now the mermaid, well, more like siren. He did his make up to suit his look, wearing a sparkly dress with baggy pants and he painted little scales around his ears, neck, and hands. It’s very much a DIY costume, but still very pretty. He’s going to run out of ideas soon. Y/N zones back in to see the car stopped at a red light and the two boys smiling at each other all cute. She groans and wonders how she’s ended up being these two perminate third wheel.
“Do I really have to come?”
“Sorry dear.” Seonghwa coos and looks back at his friend, “But we need a sober driver.”
“Besides. Your a nursing student, you can stop people from dying from alcohol poisoning.” Hongjoong adds.
“I cannot. You better not bring some shit faced frat boy to me and expect me to take care of him. Or her. Anyone. It’s not my job to take care of people outside my placement.” Because Y/N is not interested in dealing with whatever asshole drank too much. If they get alcohol poisoning from being stupid, it’s not anyone’s problem but their own.
“Whatever you say ratchet.”
“I’ll show you ratchet, Hongjoong.”
“Be nice you two.”
At the party, Y/N makes sure to stay close to Seonghwa and Hongjoong, and she smiles pleasantly at the people they talk to. Luckily it’s not all bad, Jongho and Yeosang are there too, so at least there’s some people she knows. She watches over her friends while they drink, making sure they don’t do anything very stupid. She can condone a little stupidity. It’s all very boring. She doesn’t have a lot of people that she can talk to, and she doesn’t have anything to really do. There’s some people dancing on the open floor, but she’d honestly rather die than become involved with that. On the bright side, someone had the decency to provide food. So after telling her friends, she wanders into the kitchen area and looks at what they have. There’s candy in a big bowl on the counter, and obviously a shit ton of alcohol she’s not able to drink, nothing great. She wishes they had cinnamon doughnuts or something, when a plate on the counter further away catches her eye.
“What the hell!” She whispers shouts, going over and grabbing an candy apple. There very clearly bought by an actual place that knows how to make them based off how well made they are. So she eats one. Or four. Who knows. Fuck she wishes they had a caramel apple too. Those are the best fall treats.
Someone else wanders into the kitchen, Y/N ignores him. Then the sound of glass breaking catches her attention. She turns her head to see a boy dressed as a cowboy staring at the broken cup on the floor, the cupboard at his head is open. He’s wearing a hat and a mask that covers the bottom half of his face, a leather jacket and tight pants. Despite not seeing much of his face, the boy is clearly drunk based off his heavy movements and pink ears. He’s also, Y/N must admit, very attractive. Maybe it’s the effect of the mask, but she just knows a pretty face hides under the mask. She watches as he kneels down, about to pick up the glass.
“Stop.” The boy looks up at her, stopping his movement, “Stay still. You're going to hurt yourself.” After making sure the boy is actually listening to her, Y/N looks around the kitchen for a broom or something. She doesn’t end up finding one, but she does find a rag, so she goes back to the boy, rag in hand just to see him with large pieces of glass in his hand.
“What did I just say?” Y/N sighs and cleans up the glass around the man and taking the piece from his hand, throwing it all out. She goes back to the still kneeling cowboy and crouches next to him, seeing his hand is bleeding. She cringes, not because of the blood, she’s used to that, but just because she imagines it hurts.
“Look at this. You should have listened to me.” She scolds, and the boy has enough sense to be ashamed, looking down.
“Sorry Angel.” He says, speech a little slurred and she can tell he’s pouting behind the mask, “Help me? Please?” Y/N sighs, looks like she’s playing caretaker tonight after all. At least he seems to be nice. She helps him stand up, which is a little hard because he’s much bigger than her.
“What’s your name?”
“Mingi.” She introduces herself as well.
“Well Mingi, let’s get to a bathroom so you can stop bleeding all over the place.” Y/N walks with Mingi, keeping a hand on his back and stabilizing him when he stumbles. Mingi cups his good hand under the bleeding one, but a few drops still get on the floor. She just ignores it, not her problem.
Y/N notices that people are watching her and Mingi, but she just gives them a dirty look when they catch her eye.
“People need to mind their business.” She mumbles, looking around for wherever the bathroom could be. She doesn’t just want to open random doors. More out of fear of being traumatized than out of respect for the homeowners privacy. She doesn’t even know whose party this is, it wouldn’t matter if she chose to snoop a little. Well, that’s a little hypocritical considering what she just said.
“There.” Mingi points to a closed door and Y/N opens it to see a bathroom.
“Okay, wash your hand and go sit on the toilet while I look for a bandage.” Mingi obeys and Y/N rifles through the medicine cabinet. She grabs bandages and isopropyl, as well as a cotton ball.
“Hold out your hand cowboy.”
“Outlaw.” She hears him mumble as she dips some of the isopropyl onto the cotton ball.
“Hm?”
“Outlaw, not cowboy.” Y/N smiles, and gently grabs Mingi’s hand.
“Outlaw, this may sting a bit.” She plays into his words, because what is the harm? While she doesn’t know the difference between an outlaw and a cowboy, she’s not about to start an argument over it. Mingi only cringes a little when he feels the disinfectant. Then Y/N grabs the roll of bandages, wrapping his hand. Mingi stares at her as she works.
“Pretty Angel.” He mumbles out, and Y/N just barely catches it.
“What a charmer.” She laughs, not taking the words of a drunk man seriously. After a few more moments, she’s done with the bandage.
“There.” She pats his hand a few times, “Now there won’t be blood all over the place. Well, anymore blood. I feel bad for whoever has to clean that up.” She laughs and he looks up at her, staring with wide eyes. He keeps his hand held out to her, “What is it?”
“Kiss it better.”
“Huh?”
“Kiss it better please?” Now, anyone else and she would’ve said no instantly and walk away. But Mingi seems so genuine. And he’s so cute and sweet. So Y/N gives a quick kiss to the palm of his bandaged hand.
“Better?” Mingi nods excitedly. He’s still wearing his mask. He should probably take that off, what if he throws up?
“Mingi. Take off your mask please.” Mingi nods and lifts his good hand to his face, tugging at the fabric. But he doesn’t actually do anything efficient. Just how much did he drink? Finding this a little pathetic, Y/N decides doing it herself would be better.
“Mingi, how about I help you?”
“Sure.” She gets the mask off quickly, fingers just grazing against Mingi’s hot ears.
I was right she thinks when she sees Mingi’s face fully, he is hot. Okay, the stares make more sense now. She puts the mask on the sink.
“Thank you Angel.” He says, smiling at the girl.
“You do know that’s not my name right?” Based off Mingi’s confused look, it’s clear he does not understand that.
“Whatever. Do you have a friend to watch over you?”
“Yunho.” Mingi answers, a name Y/N is somewhat familiar with, “but he left. Don’t know where he is.” Y/N is irritated hearing that. Mingi’s friend just abandoned him while he’s clearly not in his right mind, what if someone took advantage of him? Or if he drank more and got alcohol poisoning, or made the stupid decision to drive? When this Yunho comes back, she’s going to give him a strong lecture on how to treat your intoxicated friends.
“We can hang out until he gets here then.” Mingi looks happy hearing that, smiling brightly.
“Thank you Angel.”
“You are so polite.” Y/N comments, and gives into her urge to pat his cheek gently. Then she helps him stand up again, but when he’s standing, Y/N notices that he looks a little off. She’s about to ask about it, but then she hears Mingi make a gagging sound.
“Shit!” She lifts the toilet seat and pushes Mingi to sit, just in time. Mingi throws up in the toilet, and Y/N rubs his back sympathetically. She takes off his hat and holds it in her other hand.
Once the sickness passes, Mingi leans back and is panting and sweating a little.
“Poor guy.” Y/N puts the hat on his lap before opening the drawer under the sink, grabbing a rag. She runs it over cold water and rings it out, before going back over to Mingi. She holds his chin and wipes his face gently. He hums in content.
“Feels good.” He hums again, Y/N compares him to a happy cat. When she’s done, she wets another rag and lays it over the back of his neck. She lets him be for a while, wanting the nausea to pass before even trying to move him again.
“Hey Mingi.” He looks over to her, blinking tiredly, “I’m gonna go do something real quick-“
“Noo.” Hands grab her wings, tugging at the fake feathers, “Don’t go.”
“It will only be for a minute.”
“Angel, stay with me please.” Y/N is left standing still. The sentiment means a lot more than it should, coming from a drunk man. She sighs, wondering whatever made her so soft hearted. Seonghwa and Hongjoong will just have to wonder where she is for a while. So she grabs the mouthwash from under the sink and fills the cap half way, giving it as well as a small cup she found for Mingi to spit in. When he does so, she cleans out the cup in the sink. Curse her for being so nice. And curse Mingi for being so cute. If he wasn’t, she probably would’ve just cleaned up his cut and let him be.
Okay, maybe she isn't really nice.
“Okay cowboy- sorry, outlaw.” She then clicks her tongue with though, “What am I going to do with you?”
“Want to go to my room.”
“Your room? Do you live here?” Mingi nods, stretching his neck.
“Yeah. With my roommates.” Well this makes things a little easier. She will simply bring Mingi to his bedroom so he can sleep this off, and he’ll wake up in the morning without any recollection of her, or anything else that happened tonight. As well as a massive hangover. He’ll probably have to skip class tomorrow, if he has any.
“Wait, do you know where you got those candy apples- actually don’t answer that. Are you feeling better?” Mingi nods, and Y/N squints her eyes at him, “Are you sure? Is your head dizzy, stomach hurting?”
“M’okay.” Well, he is definitely looking more alive than before, so Y/N choses to believe him.
“Up we go then.” She holds out her hands and Mingi grabs them, allowing her to hoist him up until he’s standing. Honestly, she’s pretty proud of herself for being strong enough to do that. When he’s stable, Y/N walks him down the hall until he points to a door, and tells her it’s his bedroom. She opens the door, and quickly ushers him to sit on his double bed that takes up most of the room. She understands the need though, he would never fit in a twin bed like her own.
“Tired Mingi?” The boy yawns in response, making her laugh. She helps Mingi with taking off his shoes and jacket, and Mingi takes off his own shirt.
Oh my god. Y/N has to stop himself from saying the words out loud. She can’t help it, he’s just so so hot. Like seriously, his face was beautiful enough as it is and his body- nope she can’t even think about it without feeling like a pervert. So she quickly pulls back the covers of the bed and gestures for Mingi to lay down there. Then she pulls the blankets over him. She stays standing beside the bed.
“There’s a place downtown that makes them.” Mingi says into the blankets.
“Makes what?”
“The apples. I don’t like sweet stuff very much, but I thought they’d be nice.” He yawns, “Expensive though.”
“I thought so.” Y/N laughs, before whispering playfully, “I’m pretty sure I ate like, half of them though. Sorry about that.”
“Did you like them?”
“Very much.”
“Then it was worth it.” Mingi smiles up at the girl, before patting the side of his bed. Y/N takes the invitation and sits.
“Sorry.”
“For what?”
“Ruining your night.” Y/N smiles, and pets Mingi’s dark hair. She had already put his hat on his nightstand.
“Believe me or not, but this was the best part of my night Mingi.” And really, it was. She’s not into parties, nothing about them is appealing to her. As much as she complained about it to her friends earlier, this was a much more pleasant experience.
“Angel.”
“Yes?”
“You’re so beautiful. And kind.” Mingi lifts a hand, grabbing her arm and really underestimated his strength, pulling the girl on top of him. Letting out a yelp, Y/N plants her hands on the sides of Mingi’s head on the pillow. This leaves their faces only inches apart, and Y/N can smell the alcohol on Mingi. That makes her break eye contact with him and start to push her arms upwards. Before she can get far, Mingi cups her face with one hand, thumb under her chin and fingers splayed out on her cheek. The action puts her in such a state of shock, she doesn’t react in time to move away from him as he lifts his head up, pressing his lips to hers.
Her eyes widen and she quickly pulls away before the kiss can be considered anything more than a peck. Mingi whines when she pulls away.
“Mingi, no.”
“Why not?”
“Why not?” She parrots, frowning a little, “You don’t even know who I am.”
“You’re my Angel baby.” He grins, lets out a little laugh before surging forward, kissing her again. Her mouth opens a little in surprise at being kissed again, giving Mingi the chance to push his tongue into her mouth, the taste of cheep beer still present. And Y/N is just disillusioned enough to lean in for a moment, and she probably would have actually reciprocated if her mind was any more fogged up from a simple kiss. But she’s not about to kiss someone who can’t possibly understand what they’re doing. Maybe kiss someone more would be more accurate.
So she pulls away again, this time pushing a hand on Mingi’s chest to keep him laying down flat on the bed. Mingi groans a little, a complaint, but doesn’t say much more. Until out of nowhere, he mutters.
“We should go out tomorrow.” Only a little fazed, Y/N shakes her head at the question.
“Honey, you’re probably not going to be able to stand properly tomorrow. Just go to sleep.” She continues to pet Mingi’s head, until she’s sure that he’s asleep. Standing up, she grabs the trash can in the corner of the room and puts it next to the bed. Then she grabs a sticky note from his desk and a pen. She writes a quick note, puts it on the nightstand before leaving the room, making sure to close the door as gently as he can.
The party is dwindling down, Y/N notes. So she easily finds Seonghwa and Hongjoong.
“Where were you?” Seonghwa asks when he sees her, “I was worried sick!”
“Sorry Hwa.”
“What were you doing?” Hongjoong questions.
“Playing nurse. Are you ready to go?”
“What happened to ‘I’m not taking care of some drunk loser’?”
“I guess he changed my mind.”
“He?” Seonghwa grins, making Y/N get this sudden feeling of dread, “Who was it? Was he hot? Was he nice to you? Of course he was, you would’ve kicked him to the curb if he was mean-“ Seonghwa trips over nothing, Hongjoong just catches him.
“Careful baby.”
“Thanks Joongie.” Seonghwa leans over and kisses the younger boy. Y/N pretends to gag.
“Wait, why is your face so red?”
“Let’s just go! Please.”
“Fine. You have to tell us all about this guy though!”
“Yeah yeah.”
When Mingi wakes up, he instantly wishes to be asleep again. His head hurts, and he feels so sick he can barely move. God, he shouldn’t have drank so much last night. He sits up, only to be hit with a wave of nausea that has him nearly doubled over.
“Fuck…” he takes a few deep breaths before standing up, groaning as he does so. He notices the trash can by his bed, and wonders how he had enough sense to grab that. Yunho must have moved it for him. His jacket, shoes and shirt are off, as well as his hat. Yunho must have done that too. He takes off his shirt and puts on a pair of sweatpants before heading to the bathroom.
When he comes out, he goes to the living room where Yunho greets him.
“Hey man-“
“Shhh.” Mingi holds his head in his hands as he sits on the couch, “Too loud.” Yunho’s voice was really just barely above a whisper.
“How much did I drink yesterday?”
“I stopped counting after the second beer and the third shot.”
“I swear Yunho, I’m never getting drunk again.” He looks down at his bandaged hand, and tries to recall exactly what he did to hurt himself.
“What happened to my hand?”
“How would I know?”
“Weren’t you the one that wrapped it?” Yunho stares at him with a surprised face.
“Damn, do you really not remember anything from last night?” Mingi shrugs.
“Pretty much.”
“Well, I left around half way through with a few others to grab some beer and you insisted that you stay here. You kept on saying ‘I’m feeling great’ so I just told you to be careful and left. By the time I came back, you were tucked into bed and sleeping like the dead.” Mingi nods along, realizing he can’t rely on Yunho to fill in the blanks of his memory.
“Wait actually, I saw a note on your nightstand.”
“Did you?”
“Yeah. Didn’t read it though.”
“Okay. Can you get me some painkillers or something?”
“Sure.” Mingi goes to his bedroom and there on the nightstand, is a bright pink sticky note. He grabs it and reads the words in black ink.
Hey Mingi,
I can imagine you have quite the hangover today, you were pretty drunk last night. Make sure to clean that cut of yours and wrap it up again, though it will probably be all healed in a few days (The power of a little kiss). Maybe I’ll see you around. Anyways, take care outlaw.
Yours, Angel.
Angel. Images of a woman with no clear face fills his mind. White feathers, the feeling of warm lips on his palm and a hand running through his hair.
Mingi comes out of his room, still holding the note.
“Yunho, did you see anyone dressed as an angel yesterday?”
“It was Halloween. Many people were. Why?”
“The girl that took care of me dressed as one. But I can’t remember her name.”
“What did she look like?”
“Uhh..” Mingi sheepishly scratches the back of his neck, “She was pretty? Look, I’ll know her when I see her.”
“Does that really matter?” Yunho asks, tilting his head, “I mean, yeah, I get that she took care of you. That was very nice of her, but do you have to meet her?”
“Of course I do.” Mingi lays back down on rhe couch, closing his eyes.
“Oh my god you have a thing for her. You have a thing for a girl who’s name you do not know, you don’t know what she looks like and know nothing about her as a person.”
“Not true.” Mingi objects, “I know she’s sweet, pretty, angelic.” Mingi snorts, “Oh, and that she likes candy apples.”
“Whoa Mingi, sounds like it’s time to pop the question to Miss Angel.”
“I wish she would’ve left her number.” Mingi complains, placing a pillow over his face.
“Well, I’ll ask around if anyone knows her, but it’s gonna be hard without knowing anything about her.”
“Thanks Yunho.”
“I’m heading to class, you staying in?” Mingi nods slightly, “Thought so. Painkillers are in the kitchen.”
“Thanks Yunho. See ya.”
“Later.”
The next day, Mingi actually does go to school. He was hoping that miraculously, Angel would be in one of his classes. Unfortunately, this was not the case for him. Yunho, like he said, mentioned her to some people but at last, no luck. Really though, he didn’t expect more. At the moment, he’s at a cafe near campus with Hongjoong and San, doing a little group review.
“Where’s your other half?” San questions Hongjoong, wondering where the older boy is.
“He’s in the library.”
“And you left him alone?” Hongjoong rolls his eyes.
“I would’ve followed, but Seonghwa said that I couldn’t since he and ratchet were studying for biology I think.”
“Ratchet?” Mingi questions.
“Y/N. Seonghwa’s nursing friend.”
“That is so mean of you.” San says, shaking his head at Hongjoong nicknaming this poor girl after a crazy murderous nurse. Mingi finds the name a little familiar, but he can’t put his finger on it, so he doesn’t question it.
“You weren’t in class yesterday.” San states.
“Yeah, i had this massive hangover. Felt dead.”
“What happened with your hand?”
“I don’t remember, but I think I cut it on a piece of glass or something.”
“Damn, you really were wasted.” Mingi can only agree.
“Please please please please-“
“Seonghwa.”
“Y/N please just tell me about this guy.” Seonghwa begs, shaking Y/N’s shoulders. She was supposed to tell him on the way home from the party, but he fell asleep right away. And yesterday they were too busy, “You don’t even need to tell me who it was.”
“Fine.” Y/N relents, shutting her text book, “He was tall, handsome and sweet.”
“Oh!” Seonghwa puts his hands over his heart, “All one could want in a man.”
“You only have two of the three.” Seonghwa kicks her but is still laughing.
“He asked if he could go out with me?”
“What? You said yes right?” Y/N shrugs.
“I didn’t say anything. It was just talk anyways. He was drunk.”
“Either way, you should have left your number with him.”
“No point, he didn’t even know my name. Just called me Angel the whole night.”
“That is so cute but unhelpful.” Seonghwa sighs, “What did you guys even do?” She tells her friend about the boy cutting himself by accident and having to clean up his cut, and tuck him into bed.
“So cute.” He analyzes his friend for another moment, “What aren’t you telling me?”
“Nothing.”
“Liar. I can tell. What’s up?” Y/N dramatically groans and puts her heads in her hands, mumbling her words, “Excuse me?”
“We may have… kissed.”
“You kissed!” Seonghwa exclaims, Y/N is quick to shush him.
“Shut up!”
“Sorry this is just crazy to me.”
“What is? That guys only want to kiss me when they’re drunk?”
“Ha. Who initiated it?”
“Him obviously.”
“Come on! Give me the details.” Y/N can’t refuse.
“He kissed me, I said that was irresponsible, he kissed me again and fell asleep like five minutes after.” Seonghwa aw’s as Y/N dramatically rests her head on her arms.
“Wait, is this not cute? Were you not okay with it? If not, I’ll find him and beat him up.” Y/N looks up at him, “Fine, Hongjoong will beat him up.” A long pause, “Jongho will beat him up.”
“There you go. But no, it was… fine? Really, If he was sober, I probably would have actually kissed him back.” Though if he was sober, she’s sure neither of them would have paid the other any mind whatsoever.
“You know if you tell me his name I could probably find him and you set you guys up.”
“Are you trying to get rid of me?”
“Noo.” Seonghwa pulls the girl into a hug, “We love you.”
“If you do, can we stop talking about this and study.”
“Fine. I have to go soon though, I said I’d meet up with Hongjoong later. Would you like to accompany us?”
“Ew.”
“You won’t be saying that when you and mystery boy get together. We can go on a double date!”
“Stop pushing your couple agenda on me.”
After a few hours of studying at the café, the two boys start to back up their bags to leave. San has already left. They hear the bell at the door ring, and Mingi’s sees Seonghwa make his way towards the table.
“Hey Joongie.” Seonghwa greets Hongjoong, leaning down to kiss his cheek before saying hi to Mingi.
“How are you guys?” He asks while sitting down.
“Good.” “Slightly hungover.” Seonghwa snorts at Mingi’s comment. But his laughter stops when he sees the bandage on Mingi’s hand.
“Hey, what happened with your hand?” Mingi looks down at his hand.
“I think I cut it on something, but I don’t really remember.”
“Huh.” Seonghwa hums for a moment before his eyes lighten up.
“Mingi, do you remember anything from your party?”
“A little bit yeah, why?”
“Did you spend anytime with a girl there? She-“
“Angel?” Mingi asks, wide eyed. He was planning to ask Hongjoong about her before they left.
“She was dressed as an Angel yes!” Seonghwa claps his hands in joy, “I’m so smart, I thought this would take longer to figure out.”
“Ohh.” Hongjoong says, just clueing in, “Mingi was the guy Y/N watched over at the party? Man, you didn’t tell me that.”
“I didn’t know who she was! I was gonna ask you if you knew a girl dressed as an angel.”
“Small world.” Seonghwa smiles, “She said you asked her out, is that true?”
“I really don’t know, sorry Hwa.” Mingi runs a hand through his hair, “But I’d love to actually meet her, thank her in person at least. Could you give me her number?” Seonghwa shakes his head.
“No, she’d be upset if I did that.” Patting the table, Seonghwa thinks, “but… if you did happen to run into her outside class, well that would be fate.”
“Would you?”
“I’ll text you her next class right now.”
“Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it. You’d be good together.”
“What?”
“Let’s go Hwa, bye Mingi.” Hongjoong and Seonghwa leave, and Mingi choses to ignore Seonghwa’s comment.
He leaves the café and starts walking back to his place. The street he’s on has a ton of little shops and bakeries, so he window shops a little as he makes his way. The a sight makes him stop. There in the window, is a display case of different candy apples. A picture plays in his mind, of a pretty girl in an Angel costume eating the candied fruit in his kitchen. His phone buzzes from his pocket, and he pulls it out and sees a text from Seonghwa. He texted the younger the building, classroom number, as well as the start and end times.
Are you sure she won’t mind?
It’s fine! Tell her I sent you
I’m glad I can blame you
Great. Have fun ;)
Mingi looks at the display case again, before stepping inside.
I hate kinesiology Y/N thinks as she steps out of her classroom. She makes her way out of the building, weaving through the crowd of people. When she’s outside, just a few meters away from the building door, she feels someone tap her shoulder. Turning around, she sees a sight she wasn’t expecting to see so soon.
“Mingi?”
“Hi Angel.” Mingi grins with a small blush on his face, one hand held behind his back.
“Isn’t this a surprise.” Y/N can’t help but smile.
“Yeah, um, I just wanted to thank you for taking such good care of me the other night. You didn’t have to.” Y/N shakes her head, waving a hand in the air.
“No problem. I’m surprised you remember me.” Mingi blushes more, and shifts his feet.
“Well, I kinda didn’t. But I saw your note and remembered a girl dressed as an angel, but not what you looked like.”
“Hm.” Y/N hums, and crosses her arms, shifting her weight to her right leg, “Disappointed?”
“God no.” Mingi answers immediately, “You’re pretty.”
“You said that.”
“Did I?”
“Multiple times. Thank you. How do you know who I am though? If you didn’t know what I looked like.” Mingi looks a little flustered and avoids eye contact.
“I ran into Seonghwa and he figured that you were the one who took care of me because of, well, this.” He lifts his own bandaged hand, “He told me your name and that you were here and that your class would be ending around this time so I came by to see if I could catch you. And I knew I would recognize you once I saw you. Even without the wings.” He spoke so fast, Y/N barely caught all of his words.
“I see. How’s the hand?”
“Good, uh, I was wondering what you meant, by your note?”
“The kiss comment?” Y/N laughs uncomfortably, pulling at the ends of her hair, “Well, um, you did ask me to kiss your hand better…”
“And?”
“You- don’t be upset please- you did kiss me. Twice.” Mingi looks ready to combust from the embarrassment he’s feeling.
“I did? Fuck, Y/N I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay. You were-“
“Please don’t say I was drunk. That’s no fucking excuse.” Y/N smiles softly.
“Fine. I forgive you.” Mingi laughs.
“You shouldn’t give in so easily. Here.” He pulls the box from behind his back and presents the caramel apple to her.
“For you.” He tells her, watching as the girl gives him an expression of pure joy.
“You-“ Y/N starts, taking the boxed caramel apple from Mingi’s hand, “Are the sweetest.” It seems that Mingi remembered a little more than she thought.
“Seonghwa said that I apparently asked you out.” Y/N nods in agreement, Mingi takes a deep breath, “I wanted to let you know that the question is still open, I’d love to go out with you.” Silence is all he gets in response. He feels a sense of dread in his stomach, but that soon leaves when he actually looks at the girl to see that she looks… flustered?
“Really? Um, yeah that- that would be nice.”
“And…” Mingi takes a breath, stepping closer to the girl. He slowly lifts his hand and rests it in the nape of her neck.
“If it’s not too much to ask, could I get a little reminder of what I forgot?” Blood rushes to Y/N’s ears and her heart beats faster. She brings her hands to his shoulders, grabbing onto the fabric of his shirt.
“I suppose I can.” Mingi leans down and brings his face close to the girl. Before his lips can meet hers though, Y/N covers his mouth with her hand, “Not now.” Mingi grabs her wrist and kisses the palm of her hand.
“After an actual date.” Where I don’t witness you throw up. She doesn’t say that know. She doesn’t want to embarrass him too much just yet. With a quick motion of his wrist, Mingi links their hands and brings them down.
“Let’s go.”
“Where?”
“On a date. Duh.” Y/N grins.
“Aw, our first, completely sober date!”
“I’m never drinking that much again.”
When Halloween rolled around the next year, Mingi did, in fact, drink that much again. It’s okay though, he still had an angel to take care of him.
#kpop#kpop fanfic#kpop fluff#ateez fluff#ateez fic#ateez fanfic#ateez#mingi fic#mingi fluff#ateez mingi#song mingi#mingi#mingi x reader#park seonghwa#seongjoong#kim hongjoong#jeong yunho#choi san#halloween#candy apple#caramel apple#meet cute#drunk Mingi#university au#fluff
214 notes
·
View notes
Text
who would let the world burn for you? cw: yandere themes, mentions of blood and dead bodies. angst. possible oocness. gn! reader.
I LET THE WORLD BURN, I LET THE WORLD BURN FOR YOU, THIS IS HOW IT ALWAYS HAS TO END.
FIREFLY/SAM would gladly let the world burn if it guarantees your safety. you’re like an ever-lasting flame they can physically cradle in their hands; you give them hope, a purpose. what makes you think they’ll purposely snuff you out for a world—the universe who didn’t dare to show not an ounce of mercy to them?
sam gently holds you in their arms, green wings resembling flames behind their back. behind them is a vast sea of angry fire—burning buildings and corpses sam doesn’t bother to look back to as they walks away from the ruined civilization. “ sam. .” you weakly whisper, the mecha looks down. if it could frown as it scans the cuts and nasty bruises littered all over your body, they would.
“ i came here for you. “ sam says, their voice soft and full of worry reserved only for you, “ it wasn’t apart of the script but i couldn’t bear to stand by and let you do everything by yourself. i feared that you could’ve. .” a familiar feminine voice blends in with sam’s low robotic one as they trailed off.
they fall silent when your shaky hand reaches out to touch sam’s “ face “, soft orange flames sizzles out from their metal slits.
I LET THE WORLD BURN, JUST TO HEAR YOU CALLING OUT MY NAME, WATCHING IT ALL GO DOWN IN FLAMES
KAFKA would let the world burn to show you what she’s willing to do for you. she wants to see the look on your face when everything is in flames because of her.
“ k-kafka. .” you mutter, backing away in fear as she saunters closer to you, stepping over dead bodies with no regard. her velvet lips stretches into a grin, teeth baring as orange flames are reflected in her eyes, making her look menacing. “ there’s no need to look so fearful, ” she drawls, stretching her arms wide as she draws nearer and nearer. “ you know i wouldn’t dream of laying a finger on my precious doll. “
you backed up against a cracked brick wall, legs trembling as she finally in arms length. “ y-y-you, wh-wh—“ kafka chuckles, placing a gloved hand on your cheek, her pinkish purple hues stares into your own. “ use your words, darling. i’m listening. “
“ wh-why? “ you choked out, (e/c) eyes filled with tears. kafka hums, placing the other hand on your cheek, now cradling your face. “ why? it’s simple, really. you may think the reason why i’m doing this is to make you suffer or something cliche straight out of a boring hero vs villain flim. hmm, it’s none of that. “
she leans closer to your face until her lips brush against yours. “ it’s an act of love. all i did was make it dramatic, isn’t it ironic? “
I SHOULD’NT HAVE FALLEN IN LOVE, LOOK AT WHAT IT MADE ME BECOME
RUAN MEI never could understand the concept of love due to her trauma and just couldn’t emotionally grasp it. but you—you made the loose ends stretch and connect and she finally gets to have a taste of what it means to love. but soon after, things began to spiral out of control—specifically her emotions. it’s now always you, you, you on her mind. it’s frustrating because it’s making her think irrational, illogical things. so, will she let the world burn for you? yes—undoubtedly so.
ruan mei winds her slender arms around your waist, guiding you into her midst. her cool breath fans against your skin as she outlines your cheekbone with her lips. and she doesn’t stop there—no, she’s moving down to the corner of your lips, jawline, neck, and then right at a certain spot where she feels your pulse. it’s slow and steady. a hand trails up your arm and eventually three fingers press against the opposite side of your neck. a blue light and a warm tingle follows suit.
“ ruan mei, you don’t have to do all of that. i’m alive. “ you sighed. ruan mei moves back a bit to peer into your eyes, she touches your cheek. “ i’m aware. “ she says softly, contrary to the glint in her eyes, a emotion that you can’t recognize—a emotion so passionate yet ominous that it sends a chill down your spine.
“ and I’ll keep it that way. “
I LET YOU GET TOO CLOSE, JUST TO WAKE UP ALONE
AND I KNOW YOU THINK YOU CAN RUN, YOU’RE SCARED TO BELIEVE THAT I’M THE ONE
BUT I CAN’T LET YOU GO
ACHERON allowed herself to get swallowed up by the waves of love—she allowed it to rush through the cracks of her heart and fill up the emptiness within. you’ve imprinted on her soul and now she’s hopelessly devoted to you. if the world must burn for you to be by her side, so be it. the world means nothing if you’re not in it.
her white tresses flows into the wind as she calmly walks towards you. her ruby eyes settled only on you as the once blue sky is ripped apart with one clean red slash and ruins scattered everywhere behind her. “ acheron. .what have you done? “ you asked in disbelief, holding onto your shattered blade. “ what needed to be done.” acheron merely replies, snatching your forearm and pulled you into her possessive embrace.
“ you didn’t need to do this and you know it! why did you fight me to stop me?! i could of saved millions of lives if it meant giving up my own. a whole civilization is gone now! people—ch-children! “ you sobbed, pushing your palms against her shoulders to escape her hold. acheron holds you tighter into her strong body and buried her nose into the side of your neck. it’s wrong, so, so wrong for her to do something so reckless—so selfish to discard innocent life for the safety of your own. but she’s gone through enough loss and suffering and the hole in her heart is full of you—her everything. if you died, she fears that she would of. .
“ forgive me, forgive me, “ acheron mutters into your skin like a prayer, “ i’m truly a coward but i’d gladly continue to be so if i can hold you in my arms like this. “
FEAR IN THEIR EYES, ASH RAINING FROM THE BLOOD ORANGE SKY, I LET EVERYONE KNOW THAT YOU’RE MINE
jingliu is letting everything burn. you’re her beloved— she would do anything for you. her blade will cut through anything and everything, even the moon itself to prove that to you.
her glowing, red feral eyes matched the color of the sky as corpses of the cloud knights laid around her like a ritual circle. jingliu looks at you and smiles lovingly in contrast to the horrific act she’s done. “ darling, come here. “ she softly commands, lifting her hand (which is stained with the blood of many!) out to you, waiting for you to take it and join her. you shake your head with terror, your body trembling. “ n-no, jingliu. th-this is madness! “
jingliu tilts her head to the side, her expression falls expressionless. then, she takes a step towards you, her hand falling limp to her side. “ this is madness you say? how laughable, my dear, “ she lets out a breathy laugh and casts you a chilling smile. “ this is hardly anything. once i annihilate the abundance in your name, only then you can speak to me about madness.”
honorable mention
I’D LET THE WORD BURN, I’D LET THE WORLD BURN FOR YOU
STELLE intentionally and unintentionally would let the world burn for you without a doubt. she’d choose you over the world, not caring about how bad it’ll make her seem. all she’s really thinking about is you and not the full consequences of her choice. and because of the astral express, things will get complicated. ultimately, you’ll be the one to give yourself up if the situation really requires you to step up. she’ll prob need to be held back.
“ we don’t have much time, i’ll go. i’ve dropped it anyways. “ you volunteered with a heavy heart, looking back at the city covered in flames. dan heng and march quickly opens their mouth to speak but stelle beats them to it, “ no, you’re not! i-if you’re going, then i’ll go with you! “ she shouts, taking your hand into hers, “ it’s just an artifact—“
“ an artifact that is needed to save this planet and it’s not like dan heng can use his powers either because he’s just going to flood everything and march you already exhausted yourself which means i have to—“
march chimes in, “ h-hold on a minute, even i think it’s a bad idea to go back in by yourself!everything is covered with smoke and ash, there’s no way you can find it on the ground somewhere and you can’t see anything! we need to call welt and himeko—“
“ okay, you call them and i’ll go find it. i know it’s a terrible plan but we’re out of options guys. stelle. please, let go of my hand and stay with dan heng and march. “
stelle stubbornly refuses, “ no. i said i’ll go with you so i am. if you think you’re going to go by yourself then you’re absolutely silly. if it was my choice, i wouldn’t let you go at all. “
your brows furrow with frustration, “ no, you’re being silly, stelle. look—we don’t have time to argue! you’re not going with me! “ without thinking, you jabbed your fist hard into her stomach, causing her to gasp and kneel over in pain. she still holds onto your hand but you hastily break free from her weakened grip. “ i have to go! dan heng! hold stelle back if she tries to follow me! give me 5 minutes tops, i’ll come back! promise! “ you dash towards the burning city, covering your nose in search of finding the lost artifact.
“ no! “ she screams horsely as she watches your figure run further and further away and eventually disappear into the sea of smoke. although in pain, stelle attempts to get back up and run after you. dan heng swiftly restrain her. “ l-let me go, dan heng! can’t you see what’s they’re doing?! it should of been me! no, not even me—the world should just burn! “ she screams at the top of her lungs, tears rolling down her cheeks.
#trendy#firefly x reader hsr#kafka x reader#acheron x reader#ruan mei x reader#stelle x reader#jingliu x reader#honkai star rail women x reader
674 notes
·
View notes
Text
Commission for @shhhsecretsideblog, hope you enjoy just as much as I enjoyed writing this!
Final signing of divorce papers. He’d cheated with his secretary on a business trip, she threw him out and filed for divorce. Not long after she realised her period was late and after doing a test she discovered she was pregnant. She tried to hide it from him for as long as she could, but he eventually found out. She made it clear that he would have nothing to do with this child.
The divorce negotiations were messy, lots of drawn out arguments and back and forth with solicitors. It had taken months. She wanted it concluded by now but he was dragging his heels. To what end she didn’t know. But eventually they reached a resolution and he agreed to sign the papers, which was happening this afternoon. The only problem was, she’d gone into labour during the night.
Just You and Me, and No One Else
words: 3142
content: clothing birth, inconvenient birth, birth denial, fpreg
Celia wasn’t one to drag things out, neither in her corporate life or personal life, and certainly not in her romantic life. The divorce lawyer’s name was Mr. Einhardt, and he didn’t tolerate very much nonsense either. He was a sort of neutral party, tasked with settling legal matters amicably between the couple. Between this small thing they had in common, and the circumstances leading to Celia’s divorce with her husband Dave, Mr. Eindhart’s sympathies seemed to lie quite decisively with Celia. Cheating on her with his secretary, a young woman just barely out of college! So cliche it nearly bored Celia to tears. The problems had begun long before the discovery, but Celia had rehashed that story enough times by now.
Negotiations had been messy; fights, late-night arguments in the kitchen, pleading, door-slamming. Dave was acting like a child throughout the whole thing. Which was doubly unfortunate, as Celia had received a second shock after the cheating, staring at a test and two pink lines in the bathroom. She was pregnant. Nine months later, she was wedged in the office seat as Mr. Eindhart recounted estate laws with Dave.
Please, she had been praying for the last hour; please, just let it be over. Incessant questions from Dave. More often than not, about the baby. No, her baby. Celia would be damned if she let that cheating, childish scum get within a mile of her child.
Mr. Eindhart was speaking as patiently as possible, but at this point it had all become a soft drone for Celia. The last issue: she had gone into labor during the night. Regular contractions, tightening her midsection and flaring sharp in her lower back. Standing before the mirror in the light of the morning, she’d been able to see clearly just how much her bump had dropped, hanging low between her hips, stretched completely taut, a reddened torpedo, with not another inch of room for the baby. It had been enough of a chore to get dressed and ready and lug herself into Mr. Eindhart’s office every week. Laboring, it was a superhuman feat.
Her hips burned, jammed into the seat. They had widened over the course of her pregnancy, and now she barely fit into any chair available. This, combined with the massive belly sprawling in her lap whenever she sat down, made for even more discomfort.
“Ms. Greene?” Her maiden name. She saw Dave flinch slightly when Mr. Eindhart used it. “Are you alright? Pardon, but you look quite uncomfortable. Do you need some water?”
“No,” she sighed, brushing his concern away. “No, thank you. When you’re this pregnant, doing anything is uncomfortable.”
Dave was frowning at her. “You sure, hun?”
Celia scowled. She knew the feigned concern had only been prompted by Mr. Eindhart’s comment; nothing more than an excuse to use the word hun. “If you could cut it with the pet names, that would be nice.”
He rolled his eyes, tried to catch Mr. Eindhart’s eye: Women, right? A comment she’d heard frequently during her marriage, even more so with her so-called ‘pregnancy hormones,’ the ‘mood swings’ that were preventing her from thinking straight.
Today, they weren’t entirely unfounded. All she could think about was her belly, the sheet of muscle over her womb, rippling and contracting as she tried to cut Dave off from some long-winded procession of his victimhood. The baby inside, the head positioned right into her cervix, pressing with increasing urgency. She had to ignore her body for the time being. She had to remain calm and collected and—
“Listen,” Celia interrupted, leaning over her tight swell. “Could we please hurry things along?” —glaring at Dave— “We’ve been through these questions enough times, wouldn’t you say?”
“I just want to make sure we have all the information,” he protested, the slimeball. “To make the right choice.”
Celia was about to retort when she felt the familiar banding around her stomach, and clenched in on herself, riding out the waves of pain and pressure once again. She hoped that her gritted teeth and wrinkled brow could be attributed to her impatience.
Her baby squirmed, cramped in her full, brimming belly. She shifted again. Things were really ramping up. As the contraction receded, she thumbed through the pages of legal documents until she reached the last one, the blank line where their joint signatures would go, and stifled a huff of frustration. There were still at least forty pages?! This pressure was a bad sign, she knew. Soon, she’d barely be able to sit, the head felt dangerously low.
The minutes ticked by. Contraction after contraction. Her belly, hot like a furnace, wracked and misshapen with their clenching force.
“Jesus,” Celia muttered unconsciously under her breath. “The pressure….” Then she looked up to see Mr. Eindhart and Dave staring at her.
“Excuse me, my dear?” Mr. Eindhart said, head tilted politely.
Celia cleared her throat, straightened her back. “The pressure he’s been putting me through, lately. It’s, er, getting to be unbearable.”
Dave was shaking his head solemnly. “You can’t even imagine my feelings. You just can’t see the other side.”
“Oh, that’s rich!” Celia covered up her consternation with a sarcastic laugh.
Another fifteen minutes. Contractions about five minutes apart. Celia realized that she had to use the bathroom, and had to use it now. The pressure was beginning to force her legs apart, despite her efforts to keep them tightly pinched together. The weight, god, the heaviness. She felt fuller than ever, an all-encompassing fullness. It stood to reason, she thought, her bladder would be feeling the strain.
“Excuse me,” she said. “I need to use the restroom.” She painstakingly stood, unable to conceal a grunt at the weight of gravity on her sagged, bowed belly. Hoping they didn’t notice the slip of skin under her blouse that certainly hadn’t been there this morning, Celia waddled from the office and found the lady’s room.
On the toilet she suffered a contraction that had her hunched over her stomach, toes curling in her pantyhoes tights. Suddenly, eyes wide, mouth open, she felt a spike in the rising pressure. Then— a release. Liquid gushed from her crotch. Celia moaned loudly at the relief. Then she clamped her mouth shut. She wouldn’t have put it past Dave to wait for her outside the bathroom.
Panting, she rose shakily from the toilet and wiped her inner thighs and crotch. She knew her waters had broken, signaling the rapid advance of her labor.
“Please, little one,” Celia murmured. “Just a little longer. Just until it’s only you and me, no one else.”
Dave was looking at her suspiciously when she returned. Even with her effortful concealment, he’d spent enough time around her to know her more subtle forms of expression. She cleared her throat and smiled.
“Where were we?”
Mr. Eindhart smiled a bit absently as Celia dabbed at the sweat beading on her forehead. He shuffled his papers and continued. Soon another contraction was taking hold of Celia, and she stiffened, bracing herself. Still, she wasn’t quite prepared for the intensity, coming on even more severe without her bag of waters to cushion the skull. Her swollen mound flexed visibly beneath the desk. She set her jaw, her knuckles going pale as she gripped her seat. This time the pain was accompanied by the undeniable urge to push. She nearly gasped aloud. Fuck, she wanted to push. It was like nothing else she’d felt before, the deep, overwhelming desire to bear down as hard as she could against the pressure. She held her breath, counted, blinking quickly as she tried to distract herself from the urge. It only grew stronger, pounding through her body, washing over her like a compulsion.
Despite her best efforts, she couldn’t control her body entirely, and she could feel herself giving small pushes, each one shoving her baby further down through her birth canal. With some mercy the contraction began to ebb, and she floated back into the conversation at hand.
“....and, what if the kid had to list another parent as an emergency contact? That role would go to me, right?”
Celia tried to intercede as smoothly as she could, ignoring the tremble in her voice, the vicious wringing of her womb. “They’re going to have a godmother, and she’ll be listed as a secondary guardian.”
“That’s fine,” Mr. Eindhart said. “Spell her name for me, just in case?”
“Is it Shannon?” Dave asked. “It’s Shannon, isn’t it? I never liked her. A bitch, that’s what she was.”
“Mr. Gardner, I don’t tolerate that kind of language in my office. Another remark and you can go ahead and find a different representative.”
Celia flashed the elderly divorce lawyer a grateful smile before turning her attention back to the impatient baby now beginning to stretch her birth canal wide. She was giving birth at this desk and nobody knew except for her. She could do this.
A hard, clamping pain. She exhaled, suddenly breathless, though it seemed to her company that she was just huffing in annoyance at Dave’s theatrics. When the urge coursed through her, it was nearly impossible to deny.
Don’t push, she told herself. Belly gripping her midsection like a tight closed fist. Don’t push. Internal muscles squeezing around the baby. Don’t—
The need to push was dizzying. She couldn’t help it. Before she knew it, she was bearing down at the desk, thighs spread as far apart as they could manage in her seat. A flush spread to her cheeks. She pushed, and pushed, feeling the baby move downward toward her exit. She couldn’t stop, was barely even aware of her surroundings anymore. All that mattered was the baby coming out of her, the need to get it out, bear down on it with the single-mindedness of a birthing mother.
Her silent straining went unnoticed until she ended her push with a loud grunt. Suddenly there were two heads turned towards her.
“My dear, are you sure you’re okay?”
“Celia?” Dave furrowed his brow. “What kind of sound was that? Didn’t you just use the bathroom, like, thirty minutes ago.”
Exhausted, losing hope that she’d be able to hold this baby in until after the signing, Celia snapped at him. “They’ve been kicking up a damn storm this entire morning, and whose fault is that in the first place? You insist on dragging this out for as long as possible, with me ready to fucking pop” —no comment from Eindhart; he knew better than to lecture a heavily pregnant woman about her language— “so, please, can we just get this over with.”
The head was so big in her canal. The pressure was so bad. She was full to the brim, utterly stretched and gravid with the baby. She couldn’t think about anything else except the need to get it out.
“Yes, well—” blinking, Mr. Eindhart scrambled with the pages. “I suppose we can just skip over a couple of pages…. let’s see here, joint signature, page 87, please.”
“Hey!” Dave protested. “Now, wait a minute.”
Celia was picking up one of Mr. Eindhart’s elegant fountain pens…. Another contraction was coming on, she could feel it broiling in her belly…. every muscle tensing up at once, working with the singular effort to expel her baby…. raising her trembling hand to the page….
To Dave and their lawyer, it may have looked like she had gone stock-still. Really though, she was pushing. Her knuckles shone pale around the pen. She was biting her lip so hard she thought she might draw blood. The baby was moving between her legs, she could feel it. She could have sobbed. The massive head was sliding through her hips, down, down, down towards her exit. She was pushing it out.
Dave took her sudden pause as hesitation. “Oh, honey,” he said. “Look at you! Overcome with emotion, I knew it was just a charade. It’s okay. We don’t have to go through with this.”
The fullness was very low now. A new sensation. The baby was in her vagina! Her labia had begun to bulge grotesquely; the head, of course, was huge. With a laborious effort, Celia scrawled a hasty, spidery signature onto the page. The final step. Done.
She slumped in her chair, push releasing, and her belly sank as her womb muscles relaxed. Her crotch throbbed. The baby’s head was right there, sitting heavily at her entrance, and it felt as if she was perched atop a bowling ball, hips nearly splitting open with the pressure.
Dave looked at the signature with despair. Mr. Eindhart cleared his throat, eyeing him like he suspected Dave might just grab the papers and bolt with them. Instead, he reached for a pen and, even more slowly than Celia had in the throes of giving birth, signed his big, sloppy signature.
“All right,” Mr. Eindhart said, tucking the papers into a folder. “That should be the last of the proceedings!”
Before Celia could react, Dave had stormed from the room. The door swung violently on its hinges.
She knew that she should leave as soon as possible, but getting up from her seat was a monumental task. Still, she struggled valiantly to her feet, containing a scream behind sealed lips as gravity thrust the head further into her nether regions, a wet tent forming in her underwear. She thanked the heavens that she had worn a skirt today. The body, it seemed, was slipping between her hips now, forcing the head down even more. Her gait was less a waddle at this point and more a bowlegged half-squat. She bore the pain and pressure and looked Mr. Eindhart in the eye, smiling as she shook his hand.
“Thank, mm, you. For everything.”
“Please, dear. Get home, get some rest.”
She nodded, unable to speak anymore. The head, god. She was so close to crowning. It was about to come out, she could feel it. She shuffled indelicately from Mr. Eindhart’s office. ‘Getting home’ was not a feasible goal. Celia didn’t even know if she could make it to the lady’s room in time, but she had to try. She couldn’t possibly give birth in these dirty carpeted corridors! One hand following the wall, knees barely supporting herself. She was trailing birthing fluid, leaking through her panties.
Whenever a contraction struck (and they were coming on without pause or respite now) she was forced to stop and squat, grunting the baby further into her nether regions. With every push her lips bulged more and more into the fabric of her underwear, burning with the obscene stretch. Slowly, the head parted them open, and she tried to pant through a contraction, drawing from some intuition that she needed to go slow and let herself stretch, her vagina straining to accommodate the huge head. Instead she loosed a guttural groan, bearing down again until her lips had unfurled into a tight oval. She was limping now, one hand cupped between her thighs as she walked.
As she rounded the hall, the restroom came into view. Almost there, Celia told herself. Just a couple more steps. Dread poured over her as a contraction began to brew in her belly. Oh no— Celia braced herself, steadying her hands against the wall in preparation.
Just then, she heard a shout. “Celia!” Dave had been waiting at the end of the hall, and now he jogged to catch up to her. “Shit, Dave!” Celia hissed as her birth canal wrung her from the inside out. “Fu-u-uck, what could you possibly—urgh! want?!”
Dave caught her arm, too involved in his own self-pity to notice Celia’s wide half-squat, the pinching of her face, the dribbles of liquid from between her spread thighs.
“Just hear me out, okay?” He was upset. His bottom lip quivered like a petulant child’s. He seemed, absurdly, betrayed. “You love me. I know you love me, and that baby is mine. I’m its father, I have a right to meet it.”
Celia stared at him, flabbergasted, the baby crowning into her panties momentarily forgotten. Suddenly she squatted down and bellowed loudly. “OOOOOHHHH!!”
Dave backed away in fear.
“Listennn-mmmfgh!” Celia groaned as she bore down furiously. “Grrrruh! Ugh, ah! I have had it up to here with you. Fuuuuck, I’m only gonna say this one time.” Despite her deep squat, she suddenly seemed to tower over him, red-faced with fury and the exertion of birth.
“Get out of our lives.”
Dave glanced at her in consternation, then scurried down the hall and hopefully out of her life for good.
Celia’s legs finally gave out and she dropped to her knees, unable to withstand the searing pain and pressure spreading her wide open and filling her so completely, it was as if there was no room for anything else anymore; no Dave, no legal documents or income discussions, not even herself or her identity as anything but a mother. Everything was focused on the baby coming out of her, crowning her most sensitive, private region. She gripped her thighs and bore down. Then she pushed her hips back, opening them, and rested her heavy body on her hands and knees. An animalistic urgency coursed through her. This primal position felt good, felt right. This was what she needed to be doing. Pushing, without any other concerns.
Her skirt rode up, exposing the apex of her thighs, her sodden bulging underwear, soaked fabric revealing what was happening behind it. The head slipped further out. Her lips formed a burning circle. Celia’s groans tightened and rose in pitch and she strained, the head unmoving as a boulder for a nerve-wracking second. A full-body shudder. Celia’s eyes rolled back in her head as she pressed her chest to the floor and sloped her rear end into the air, pushing with all she had.
The head burst free, and fluids spattered the hallway wall behind her, soaking the carpet. Celia gasped and panted, but the ordeal wasn’t over yet.
“O-okay, okay, baby.” The shoulders were rotating, she could feel the body turning inside her. The entire head hung from her opening and sagged her panties. “Th-this is iiiittttt-ooooooh!” With one last giant push, the body slid out and a river of fluids gushed freely behind.
Celia sat up on her haunches, scrambling between her tights and underwear with the instinctual desperation of a mother, searching frantically, needing to hold her baby, needing the touch-contact. She brought it from under her skirt to her chest, and heard a gurgling cry. A beautiful girl! Nothing like her father, everything like her mother. Tears streamed from Celia’s eyes and dripped down her nose and cheeks.
“Oh, look at you! Look at you!” She held her to her warm heart. “It’s okay. It’s just us. Just you and me, and no one else.”
#fpreg#clothing birth#birth denial#labor kink#birth kink#pregnant kink#inconvenient birth#birth fic#commission
266 notes
·
View notes
Text
♡18:53♡
Pairing: Poly! Ateez x Fem! Reader
Genre: Fluff, suggestive towards the end
Warnings: MxM, pet names, uh reader teases them at the end so ⚠️MNDI⚠️, this one I did not proofread. That’s it I think :/
A/N: Surpriiiseee! I really made this on a whim. The inspiration came out of nowhere and I just had to write it. This is much shorter than the previous one but I do hope you guys like this too hehe! Also this is VERY MUCH a self insert lol 😭 and lastly I know jackshit about league so if I get anything wrong sorry 🙏
Tagging: @faeprincess777 @starygw3n @bee-gremlin @pinkpearlstar @sweetinsaniiity (if you wanna be tagged in my next poly ateez story, texts or not then please let me know!)
.✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚✧.
Being the only girl in this big relationship had its downsides and its perks. One of the downsides is that sometimes there are just things that the boys like that unfortunately you’re just not interested in.
One of them being gaming.
Quite cliche but it’s true.
Now it’s not like you never play any video games with the boys. You’ve guys play some Among Us, Gmod, Dead by Daylight and countless Nintendo games like Smash Bros, Mario Party and Mario Kart just to name some.
Though you don’t play Mario Party that often as you and Wooyoung always end up strangling each other by the end of it, and not the good kind.
Besides that, the list of games you and your amazing boyfriends play doesn’t even end there.
However there will be some games you just don’t care for.
One of them being League of Legends.
Just couldn’t get into it, so you just let that be their thing.
Tonight after a long week of work. The boys thought it’d be fun to treat themselves by renting a room at a nice nearby PC Bang.
Now most times you’d sit this one out and just have some alone time at home. However to their surprise you decided to join.
“I just wanna be around you guys! Your presence is enough. Plus watching you guys play is still fun, even if I don’t join!” You reasoned.
“Hmmm alright.. though if you want our attention or wanna do something else just say so!” Seonghwa said.
“Or just sit in one of our laps princess.” Mingi said teasingly.
Now usually when they are having nights like this, after a while you would eventually take up on Mingi’s offer and sit in one of their laps.
However you decided to entertain yourself another way.
After seeing some girlfriends on TikTok do this with their boyfriends while they’re gaming or watching a sports game. You decided to follow in their footsteps.
So here you are sitting in one of the comfy gaming chairs near Yeosang and Mingi, ipad on your lap with the notes app opened with a grid filled with prompts and the words “BINGO” at the top.
Yes! You decided to play Boyfriend Bingo tonight!
Throughout the night you’ve been crossing off things whenever the boys did something you predicted.
Oh! Yunho’s team won! Thats a check.
“…Guys seriously do you even know how to play?! Come on get it together! San cover me! Oh what seriously??? Guys I’m dying here!…”
Wooyoung yapping for a straight minute. Check.
“…….Yes!”
Yeosang staying silent until the end of the round. Another check.
Huh I’m good at this.
“Sweetheart you sure you’re not bored??”
“I’m sure Hwa.” You say with a suspiciously big smile.
“..okay..”
Seonghwa checking up on me. And a check!
Though somethings you had to wait a bit longer for. But you were sure you’d get them eventually. Hopefully you’d get at least 3 bingos by the end of the night.
However looking at your grid and how you have 2 bingos already, you’re positive you can cross out this entire grid.
.✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚✧.
After a good hour you finally got Jongho becoming whiney.
Adorable. And also a check!
“Ah! …Woah!! ..Boom!!!! …Ugh!”
San only making noises for the first 5 minutes. Cheeeeck!
Oh and San suddenly grabbing someone else’s thigh? Jealous. But check!
Hmm I need to fill out this box. You thought to yourself.
“Joooongiieee? When is the food coming?” You suddenly asked.
“Huh?? Oh uh.. any minute now baby!” He replied.
“Oh darling you’re hungry?” Yeosang asked.
“Mhm! Its okay I can wait a bit- oh here it is!” You said about to get up and get the food from the worker.
“No no I got it!!” Hongjoong said as he quickly left his desk.
“WAIT NO HYUNG WE NEED YOU!” Jongho yelled.
“Just a sec!”
Subtly you checked the Hongjoong getting up in the middle of the round box. Before taking your food from him.
“Thank you my love!” You said as you kissed his cheek.
“Of course princess. You sure you’re not bored?” He asked.
“Noooope!”
“Okay the-“
“HYUNG HURRY UP WE’RE LOSING!!”
“The more you yell Jung Wooyoung the more I rather sit here with princess!” He said before going back to his seat.
Ah damn I should’ve put in ‘Wooyoung yelling when he’s losing.’ Oh wait I did! Checkity check check.
You happily continue playing as you eat your yummy food.
Also since you’re a good girlfriend, you go around giving the boys a taste of your food. Just cause you know they’re curious.
Still accepting my food while playing. Check!
.✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚✧.
Finally they decided to play one more round and you only need one more box!!
You’re confident you’re gonna get it though. Cause you know them that well.
And soon enough half of the room at the end of the match screams out in victory while the other half whines and groans in loss.
Aaaaannndd…
“Aaaww Mingles is all pouty cause he lost!” Yunho said in fake sympathy.
“Hmph.”
“Come here Mingi is okay! You’ll win next time! MMMMUAAHH!”
“BINGO!!”
Suddenly they all whip their heads to look at you.
“Bingo?” Jongho asked with a tilt of his head.
“You’ve just been playing Bingo this whole time???” San asked as well.
“Yup! Boyfriend bingo!” You said with a big smile and flipped your ipad around.
“Boyfriend bingo?” Seonghwa asked.
Yeosang then took the ipad.
“HAHA Wooyoung yapping for a straight minute!”
“WHAT?! I DID NOT?”
“I timed it.”
Wooyoung then snatched the ipad.
“Hongjoong constantly going ‘Huh?’! HAHA BABE OMG” Wooyoung then the other started laughing the more they read out your grid.
“DID I REALLY??”
“Yes love you did.” Seonghwa said with a laugh.
“Oh my, you know us scarily well love.” Yunho said.
“I’m your girlfriend!!! I’m supposed to!”
“You really are the cutest thing we could’ve ever asked for!” Yeosang said as he walked over and gave you a kiss.
“What was the last thing you crossed off baby?” Mingi asked.
“Oh! It was you getting a kiss after you lost!”
“YOU KNEW I’D LOSE??? Hmph!! Wooyoung you shouldn’t have kissed me! She would’ve lost!” He whined with a bigger pout.
“…well.. i mean.. statistically speaking you couldn’t ALWAYS win…”
Mingi then turned around in another huff.
“Princessaaaaa!!! I’m sorryyy!! Heheheh” you said as you got up, ran to him and hugged him from behind.
“Will a kiss make it better?” You asked.
“..maybe.”
“He just wants kisses!” Jongho yelled.
“EVERYONE GIVE MINGLES KISSESSS!” Wooyoung then yelled.
With that everyone quickly gathered around Mingi to give him a fat smooch. As he pretended to groan in protest.
And with that you guys all cleaned up and headed home.
.✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚✧.
“We should all play girlfriend Bingo next time!” San said as you guys made it back home.
“Ohohooo you think you can beat me? Think you know me so well Sannie??” You said teasingly.
“Oh princess we do know you so well.” Yunho chirped in.
“We’re your boyfriends! We’re supposed to!” Yeosang said mirroring your words.
“Hmmmm! Okay then! Go and each of you make your own grid! Whoever this week can get a full grid like me will get a prize!” you announced as you skipped to the bathroom to freshen up.
“A prize you say?” Hongjoong asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Hmmm whoever wins gets to see me in my newest lingerie first~”
With that you took off your shirt and bra and threw it at them as you lock the bathroom door.
Groans, whines and banging at the bathroom door can be heard as you simply turned up your music.
Let’s see who knows me best!
.✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚✧.
© mimikittysblog 2024
#ateez#poly ateez#ateez fluff#Kim hongjoong#park seonghwa#Jeong Yunho#Kang yeosang#Choi San#song mingi#Jung wooyoung#Choi jongho#hongjoong x reader#seonghwa x reader#yunho x reader#yeosang x reader#San x reader#mingi x reader#wooyoung x reader#jongho x reader#hongjoong fluff#seonghwa fluff#Yunho fluff#yeosang fluff#San fluff#mingi fluff#wooyoung fluff#jongho fluff#mimikittysblog
232 notes
·
View notes
Text
╰┈➤ ADELAIDE ✦ SAE ITOSHI.
⟣ ──┈ · · · + synopsis ➢ Sae rarely watches any movie or TV show for the second time so he has come up with a solution. Why don't you cockwarm him as he sits for the rewatch, hmm?
+
⟣ ──┈ · · · + cw ➣ fem!reader x sae itoshi, roommate au, relationship history ( fwb➝ established relationship ) relationship dynamics, fluff, angst and smut, cockwarming, nipple stimulation, edge play, very subtle tones of s&m, sub/dom dynamics, switch!reader, sae is little obsessive behaviour and fantasies about the reader, mention of safeword ( neither party uses it); 1,3k word count. | blog navigation + koct’23 masterlist. |
The curtains dance along the windows as a gust of wind enters the living room. The afternoon sun is utterly bright despite the torrential rain at dawn; but it is Saturday, so you could definitely enjoy the privilege of an air conditioner along with emptying a tub full of ice cream of your favorite flavour. You could definitely enjoy such other privileges if Sae did not suggest the idea of watching a movie together, in this living room where he sits with you on the couch having you on his lap and his cock inside you. Unlike the most Saturdays, he is home today and hence, you could not say no to him.
The posture is not at all uncomfortable. In fact, he has one of his arms wrapped around your waist as you watch the movie with rapt attention. Although, Sae is facing toward to the television he is not much interested since he claims he has seen the movie already. The notebook. You have watched it too. In fact, you are the one who introduced him to ‘The Notebook’, and ever since he has been nagging to watch it with you like a child asking for a limited edition toy. And when you asked him why he suggested a movie that he has already watched, he simply came up with this brilliant idea of having his cock inside as you watch the movie to make it more interesting.
At first, you gave him a look saying, “you can just watch it again with me.” but he instantly responded smiling ear to ear, “I would rather watch you.” That was so cliche and cheesy that it makes you cringe yet it has been a while you have not seen this side of him. When your eyebrows knitted against each other, he added, “Please.” avoiding eye contact.
The first time when you suggested him to watch ‘The Notebook’ after his so-called girlfriend ditched him he landed a trail of awful words saying how he hates such plain romance. ‘Vanilla’ he would call it, which according to him is not his type. Technically, it is. He hates simplicity. Nothing is more boring than going by the book. But he still watched it. And after that, you two started watching tv shows and movies together. Of course, both of you took turns to pick. Now, he likes simplicity but only when it is you.
That is how you ended up watching ‘The Notebook’ again, as his hands slipped under your dress every other minute. With an annoyed huff, you are just pushing his muscular-toned arms back to the valley of your waist every time they become curious. The first twenty to forty minutes was enough for him to pull you into his lap, his fingers playing with your pussy spreading and relaxing you so that he can slide his cock at ease. He is fully clothed but his hands have reached up to the laces of your long camisole quite a number of times. He knows you are not wearing a bra underneath. You hate it. Even though having a guy as a roommate you could not care less.
Sae mumbles into your ear as he pulls your body towards himself, rolling his hips a little and pushing the tip of his cock more inside you. “Babe…” he murmured, grazing his nose below your neck and placing a soft open-mouthed kiss. You do not faze, nor say anything. How could you? You are having a hard time keeping your moans to yourself. His needy gestures are not helping either. His hand slips again under your dress, this time he inclines your body a little so as to continue his trail of kisses. “Babe. . .” he whines again, followed by a low short-lived gasp.
“What is it, Sae?” you ask, pausing the movie. There are still forty minutes left.
Did you really have to pause it? The fact that some corny romance that you have already watched has more of your attention than him is already making him go nuts. He wishes he could just roll you down on the couch and fuck you till your tears run down your cheeks, while the movie plays in the background. He has imagined it so many times. “can i fuck you?” He blurts out.
You know he is just playing with you, somewhat bluffing to see your reactions. After all, he is never the one to admit defeat so easily. “It was your idea, Sae” You exclaim as he tries to distract you by running his hands up your arms and then stopping at your shoulder blades, inserting a finger underneath the lace to play with it. You try to adjust yourself a little so that his cockhead does not nudge your sweet spot every time he moves but he is a lot stronger than his friends claim.
“Such a bad idea, don’t you think?”
Your eyebrows pinch, cheeks puff in and out as you resume the movie. “Just forty more minutes.” You glance at him through the corner of your eyes and find him smirking. He is looking at your boobs as you realise how much is turned on, how much you want this,want him and how much can you take any more of this. Sae glances you before sticking his tongue out licking your pebbled nipple once. You can neither tell him to stop nor ask for more because both will have him tasting the victory by fucking you before the movie ends. Sae checks your face in between his slow teaseful sucks and licks.
Your face contorts as he blows some air out onto your nipple making you realise that he has wetted enough to let the cloth stick on to your skin. He moves you to adjust a little to do the same with your lonely nipple making you swallow hard feeling his cock leak inside you. It hits your sweet spot with so much precision that it is almost tempting to bounce on his cock and ask him to fuck you. At this point, he would actually. You just needed to say the word. “thirty more minutes babe,”
“After that,” he slaps your ass cheeks harshly over the skimpy dress. Just once but that one slap has you arching like a bow with your head bent backward. You blink open your eyes huffing with the wide intake of breath feeling tears blurring the design painted on the celling. “I’m going to fuck you. Hard.”
You looked at him, a little concerned because never with you he has done this. Safeword was at the tip of your tongue and your heart at the back of your throat yet you saw him leaning towards you resting his head against your chest and releasing a strong exhale.
“I know. So, you better last these last forty minutes.” You voiced out tartly. You could feel him wince, evident from a distorted groan.
You do not remember seeing his arms travel far down your waist and now as your breaths are slowly becoming even, he has both of your arms arching at the back holding them by the wrist making them immobile. He kisses your collarbone whispering, “Sorry, force of habit. You ‘okay love?”
tagging~@tteokdoroki @saenora @semisgroupie @orchid3a @seirinz.
#sae smut#bllk smut#sae x reader#sae x y/n#angelshubnetwork#sae x you#sae itoshi x reader#sae itoshi x you#sae itoshi x y/n#itoshi smut#itoshi sae#sae itoshi#bllk x reader#bllk x you#bllk x y/n#bllk x female reader#blue lock smut#blue lock sae#smut drabble#smut#sae#sae itoshi smut#bllk fic#bllk fanfic#bluelock smut#smut fic#smut fanfiction#smut fics#fanfictions#fanfics
918 notes
·
View notes
Text
˗ˏˋ Jinwoo x Artist! Fem! Reader: Drabbles ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ ˎˊ˗
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ
・┆✦ Entry : 035 ✦ ┆・
[ Self-Deprecation, Cheesy Hs Love, mentions of bullying, Kyunnie making a fic for herself, Fluff Ending ]
╰┈➤ ❝ [ Admiration ] ¡! ❞
After the past years of schoolyears, you swore to never again make friends or even try anything to get attention on yourself. The plan for the remaining years is to just disappear like a ghost.
Not again, you wont open your heart, you will never let anyone in.
You wont go through another betrayal, you wont get picked on again, you wont ever let anyone hurt your heart anymore.
But ah, the way your heart stopped when you saw a tall guy with dashing ebony locks, his lazy grey eyes, a sharp angled jawline as if carved out by god's hands and a physique so perfect he might as well drop off of highschool and become an idol.
He felt your gaze from the other side of the classroom and his grey eyes would sweep towards yours— Instinctively making you avert your gaze from him.
Your heart is racing, it's suffocating, it doesn't feel pleasant.
It doesn't feel pleasant.
It does not.
So like a little a coward, you purposely started avoiding Jinwoo. You never try to meet his gaze, nor have you ever tried to be next to you.
The feeling in your heart is just so unpleasant. You don't know why, but Jinwoo's presence is making your heart race.
You thought it was just anxiety really, but secretly you studied Jinwoo's face when he wasn't looking.
Look down on the paper on your desk,
And start sketching.
You really don't know why you're doing this, perhaps it is to figure out just why he makes your heart race so much, to figure out why he just seems so... Different in a way.
Is it the way he talks? The way he carries himself? The way he seems just so... Unique?
What is it really? What makes him so different?
How can he make your heart squeeze itself like it felt like you're dying? How can he make you so fidgety even just bypassing by him?
You memorized the way his hair behaves, the way his clothes move along with him, the way his alluring grey eyes seemed to have a language of their own.
A language that makes you feel so lightheaded.
⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪
Jinwoo had always known your little gaze on him, and he grew curious about it. You're always hovering somewhere near him, but not too near. When he comes close even by just 20 steps— You scramble and run away like a kitten.
Cute.
Just like he was in your eyes, you were in his.
Not romantically, at least, not yet.
He heard small rumours about you here and there, how you were bullied in the previous years. Jinwoo couldn't get the details, and though he can in a heartbeat— He chose not to pry into your private life.
You weren't attempting to stalk him on that level, so he wont neither.
He'll let you hang around him, you're a harmless little kitten who doesn't meow after all.
It's no big deal.
⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪
"You ready, hyung?" His teammate says as they all prepare on the trakcs for their daily training.
"Of course" Jinwoo hums.
Truthfully, he's bored, deathly bored.
When everyone thinks he is running like a damn road runner; he feels as if he is going on a walk.
Not even a jog.
A damn walk.
But he has to.
He passes by you and like a cliche, romance novel— The wind blows towards your hair and your strands toussle while your eyes are just focused on the journal in front of you.
Charming.
It was absolutely charming, you looked like you didn't belong here.
Jinwoo though in that split second that you should be in front of a canvas instead, inside of an atelier wearing an apron with a palette on your hand.
He momentarily looses his focus before hearing his teammates running behind him and he snaps back to it.
⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪
Page after Page after Page.
All of the pages are just full of him, only him.
Only Jinwoo.
It was only until you counted fifty pages of just Jinwoo that you realize that you in fact, are in love with him.
But why though?
Of all the cute guys and older oppas in the school— You're specifically attracted to Jinwoo?
There's just something... Magical about him. You've always love the prettier and mystical things, you love to live in a dream.
Perhaps its a coping mechanism you developed after all the bullying and mocking you went through in your previous years.
Reality is a sad, sad place.
It's dark and gloomy, the only pretty place sin this twisted hell are the flowers growing in the cracks.
The thought of having feelings for Jinwoo honestly brought a shiver down your spine. After all, you swore to never open your heart and let someone in.
But somehow, that tiny, tiny little box in your heart had Jinwoo containing it.
It's alright.
It'll past. It's just another little crush. Another infatuation.
This is normal, you're a teenaged girl.
But god, days turned into weeks.
And each time you would fall for him more and more.
It's torture, you don't know how to voice out your feelings. You don't know how to keep this overwhelming endearment under lock and key.
Isn't this supposed to be just a little crush?
If so, how come your control over yourself is slipping? Is this even infatuation at this point?
If its not infatuation, then what is it?
With a pen and paper in hand, you started jotting down stuff.
Mind as well make a little love letter.
Cheesy? Of course.
But it's going to be anonymous so surely it's fine.
Maybe if you do this, your feelings will be gone if you see him throw the letter away.
Crumple.
Crumple.
Crumple.
The sound of crumpled papers filled your room for the whole night.
You have to make the perfect love letter
You need to make the perfect love letter.
⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪
You were going to sneak up into the classroom in wee early hours of school. Jinwoo is an early bird in school, soyou had to be even earlier.
As you shuffled around in your feet, you instinctively hid behind the bushes.
You can hear Jinwoo's voice.
And another girl's voice.
You swear its him, you were eavesdropping but the words werent registering.
The only thing you are realizing is that Jinwoo has... A gentler tone. His voice isnt bored. Not lazy, just... A little soft.
You had always been very focused on voices, you managed to pick up on even the slight shift on tones because it was your way to dtermine if people are fooling you or mocking you passive-agressively.
The more you listened, the more you felt hopeless.
It was then you realized Jinwoo must have some thing with another girl.
And you honestly... Felt awful, you felt terrible.
Because how dare you make a love letter to someone else's man?
How dare you like someone's man?
How dare you?
No wonder you are all alone, no wonder you are betrayed by your friends, no wonder you were bullied.
You're a fucking freak.
Jinwoo's affections will never be yours, it will never be bestowed upon your pitiful soul.
You're ugly, you're a worthless, piece of shit that is unloved.
So knock it off already, bastard.
So carefully you crawl away, making sure not to step on any leaves or make any rustle as you scurry away.
You then throw the carefully made envelop on the bin and go up the classroom.
while your lonely, sad letter in the bin— Faded into black shadows.
⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪
"I'll pick you up after you club," Jinwoo said, ruffling his sister's head who whined in response.
"No, I will go out with my friends after for a crepe!" Jinah whines, stomping. "Oppa, knock it off!"
"Does mom know?" He inquires, amused at his sister's stubborness.
"Yeah, and so does dad!" Jinah beams. "Let me go, yeah?"
"Fine," Jinwoo rolls his eyes. "Don't come home after dark, if you do, call me"
Jinah would only pout, but nods her head as her brother shooed her away.
Jinwoo would watch his sister go to the nearby middle school, smiling softly as Jinah sees her friends and runs to her friends.
"My king," Beru's tiny little head appears beside him, "My liege's muse has thrown a letter"
"Hm?" He perks up in curiousity, holding his hand up to receive the discarded letter. "Huh. How cute."
Jinwoo hummed, turning the envelope over to admire the intricately designed envelope that was a scrapbook paper folded so expertly.
He then opens the thing carefully, to which Jinwoo felt like he was opening a letter from hundreds of years ago because it had a wax seal on it.
Instantly, a refreshing scent would waft through his nose.
It was your scent.
Not that you sprayed the paper with cologne, it's just that Jinwoo has a bloodhound nose and can pick up your scent anywhere.
Carefully, he unfolds the paper that was written in classic cursive.
My dear, sweet star I wonder which dream you have come from How so do you capture my heart with no effort? I can never know, I would never find out My heart aches for you, It is painful and unpleasant But also not so painful You're like a delicate twinkling thing on my dark night sky So close and yet so far You are of another world from Of another reality But how is it that my heart yearns for yours? Your grey eyes akin to a benevolent god's gaze, I find myself lost in them, And in those grey eyes I beg to be drowned in, The abyss I will willingly throw myself into May I love you? May I be allowed to hold these feelings for you? My dear beloved star, May I be selfish just this once and keep you in the small box in my heart? In this world full of madness and woe, Your gentle, sweet and pleasant presence gives me mercy Perhaps you are an angel Or a fleeting snowflake passing by O dear, beloved star Linger in my gaze a little while longer Live in my life for just a bit more Let me love you for quite a bit more
Underneath the poem was a sketch of Jinwoo, a delicately made one. The hunter's face was red to the very tip of his ears. He has never once received a love letter, okay maybe he did when he was in the future but not at this age and with this much effort. It even had a little artwork of him and it made Jinwoo bashful like he is an actual teenage boy.
"God..." Jinwoo groans, scratching the back of his nape as he felt... So fluffy. "You're so cute it's driving me mad"
He continues to sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.
It's obvious you're going to continue avoiding him for quite a while. Between you and him, he was the man.
And what is a man to do?
He does the pursuing.
With a deep sigh and a rosy hue on his cheeks as looks up at the sky;
"Your star? Sure." He smiles as the wind blows in his direction. "If I'm your star, you'll be my goddess."
꒰ A/N: I'm so sorry for being selfish I just cant help myself xDDD!!! I havent written in so long so this is very clumsy and terrible srry guys hahahah!!! But man,,,, I lovee my woowoo so much<33 ꒱
ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .。✧・゚: ~♡ —! stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.
#sung jinwoo#solo leveling#sung jin woo#only i level up#solo leveling headcanons#sung jinwoo headcanons#sung jinwoo x reader#sung jinwoo x you#sung jinwoo fluff#sung jinwoo x reader fluff#ore dake level up na ken#sung jinwoo fics#solo leveling x reader#solo leveling fics#‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡🪐༘⋆— kyunnie's writings
359 notes
·
View notes
Text
style - rafe cameron
summary: Everyone knew who Rafe Cameron was, and what things he was capable of. He was always partying, getting high, or plastered. Always had a girl under his arm swooning over him, but somehow he had crossed paths with you. You were the complete opposite of him, you were sweet and innocent in your short skirts and long eyelashes. Getting involved with Rafe was the last thing you expected to ever do but you’ve always liked cliches.
warnings: 18+ only, fem reader, fluff, smut, mentions of insecurities, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, teasing, mentions of cheating kinda, lots of praise as always, cussing, Rafe being the hottest ever, mentions of drugs, alcohol
word count: 3.6k
authors note: this is inspired by style by taylor obvi. Literally obsessed with this idea & obsessed with taylor.
masterlist - rafe’s version
You paced around your room, trying to keep your footsteps light so you didn’t wake your parents. They’d definitely have some questions if they found you awake in the middle of the night dressed to go out. It was because you were going out, you think. You had been waiting for rafe for about thirty minutes now, he said he’d be here at midnight but of course he wasn’t. You don’t know why you continued to act surprised at the things he did, which included keeping you waiting. You hadn’t seen him or really heard from him for almost two weeks now.
Barely a phone call and maybe two texts from Rafe is all you had gotten from him the last two weeks. You had missed him more than you’d ever admit. He had finally called in the morning asking to meet like you guys usually did before he practically ghosted you. He promised an explanation and you definitely needed one to ease your mind.
Rafe had become an intricate part of your life, a part that was your own little secret. He made you feel seen, unlike everyone else in your life. You could never tell him that, you felt like he’d end things or worse he’d feel the same. Then everything would get even more complicated.
Ever since you and Rafe started this game of sneaking around and some days almost hoping to get caught. At least that’s how you felt. Sometimes you wanted to get caught straddling him in his truck. With your hair messy and your lipgloss all over Rafe’s lips. Then maybe you and Rafe could be a real couple and do real couple things. But at the same time you were terrified of what everyone would think.
Not because you were embarrassed of Rafe or anything like that, but you knew people would talk. They already started to when people saw you two together the first time you hung out. It had started a wildfire of rumors and speculation.
They’d say how could Rafe be with someone so boring. How could he pick you and not them. You knew there’d be whispers about how you don’t party enough to be with Rafe or you’re not pretty enough to be with the prince of outer banks. Or worse they’d think she’s sleeping with him for coke and all of a sudden she’s a drug addict.
Your mind was pulled away from your thoughts as your phone started vibrating on your nightstand. Rafe’s name and contact picture lighting up the screen. It was a picture you had taken a few weeks ago in the back of his truck. He looked so hot you couldn’t resist, you would have been ashamed of taking a picture of him if he hadn’t taken one of you a couple weeks before that. You two were on the beach in an area people never went to, the sun was setting and the sky was the perfect shade of blue.
You had your knees up to your chest and your arms resting over them, as your head laid on your arms turned towards him. He grinned slightly before pulling out his phone to point it at her. He mumbled the word pretty as he took the picture, a smile forming on your face which made him take another picture. He always did things like that. The type of things that made you question everything.
You picked up your phone bringing it up to your ear, ready to hear his excuse. It always went this way with you two.
“Hello,” you mumbled trying not to be too loud.
“I’m outside, I’m so sorry I’m late. My dad started talking to me and I couldn’t get out of it,” He huffed. It was the truth Ward had caught him on his way out and started berating him for his irresponsibility and immaturity for thirty minutes.
You rolled you eyes not sure if you should believe him yet, “hmm okay I’m coming.” He definitely knew that you were skeptical of him.
You grabbed your purse and walked as quietly as possible down the stairs after shutting your door quietly. You made it to the sliding doors to the backyard, you easily slipped out and headed around the house.
Once you were past the side gate you could see his truck parked across the street. He had the windows down and he was looking at you with a small smirk on his face. You hoped it was because of your outfit, you did pick it out with him in mind.
Opening the passenger door and quickly getting in before something woke up your parents. You turned towards him trying not to let a grin overtake your lips. He was just so handsome you could never stay mad at him. You knew you shouldn’t be here, you always told yourself that but here you were back again.
“Hi princess,” He smirked breaking the silence.
You lightly scoffed, “Hi Rafe, it’s a little late no?” you tilt your head slightly as your suspicions haven’t eased.
He turned the truck on, “I’m sorry I was late. I promise I was leaving on time and my dad was in the kitchen and started talking to me. Just kept going on about stupid bullshit, he wouldn’t let me leave.”
You knew how things were with his dad, it wasn’t much of a secret how Ward Cameron treated his eldest child. He looks over at you with a small hint of sadness behind his eyes as he clenches his jaw. Your features soften slightly, but you can’t help that itch of suspicion.
“You promise?” You asked your voice coming out a bit shaky. He had begun driving to their usual spot. It was in between the trees by the beach. It was secluded at night.
“Of course,” You usually weren’t this insistent on finding out the reason why he was late so he had begun to get suspicious himself, “Is something bothering you princess?”
You shrugged as you looked down tugging on your skirt. You felt stupid for even feeling this way, it’s not like the two of you were dating. You shouldn’t care so much. It was hard not to care when you had feelings for someone.
“Come on, you can tell me anything,” He pushed placing his right hand over your thigh giving it a gentle squeeze. He always knew how to get you to do anything he wanted. Rafe hated when there were things on your mind because he never wanted you to have to worry about anything. Especially if it was something about him.
“I’ve heard the rumors Rafe,” You mumbled looking at him as he parked the truck between the palm trees.
He looked at you confused, “What rumors?”
You rolled your eyes out of embarrassment for yourself, “You know the ones of you and Gia.” You felt pathetic for being jealous and hurt when the two of you had never even talked about what you were. Were you dating or was this just a casual hook up. Even if it never felt like just a casual hookup.
“I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Two weeks ago. At a party. I heard from someone that the two of you went upstairs together. Then this past weekend Willow said she heard Gia talk about how great you are in bed,” you couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you thought about Rafe being with another girl. It made your skin crawl with envy.
He smirked, “You’re jealous. You thought I was late because of another girl.” He was putting all the pieces together.
You huffed, “No! and I don’t even hear you denying the rumors.”
“They’re not true. I promise you, you really think I’d be with someone like Gia?” he scoffed and lightly chuckled. It seemed like he was trying to manipulate you but he was actually telling the truth.
You rolled your eyes, “Yes actually I do think you would.” you crossed your arms as you gave him a pointed look.
“You’re right, but I wouldn’t do anything with her because of,” He sighed running his hand over his hair.
“Because of what Rafe?” You really hoped he would say because of you.
“Why do you even care?” He asked trying to change the subject so he didn’t have to talk about his feelings.
“You’re so fucking dense,” you spat, “and where have you been the last two weeks? I get that this is whatever it is but I would appreciate a heads up or an update if you’re going to go m.i.a. I was worried something happened.”
He hated that you cared about him so much. It made it so much harder for him to want things to be casual. Rafe felt like you were the only person that’s ever actually cared for him and not just for his money and drugs but actually cared about him. He couldn’t tell you that he would never hook up with Gia, or anyone else actually, because they’s not you. To Rafe no one could ever compare to y/n, you were everything he needed but felt like he didn’t deserve it.
“My dad asked me to go to the Bahamas with him. It was a last minute trip and it was meetings after meetings. I didn’t have time to talk to anyone, I-I’m really trying here to be better with him. With everything. And all that Gia shit, she came up to me at that party and asked for some coke. I told her I don’t do that shit anymore but she wouldn’t shut the fuck up,” He sighed hoping you were believing him because it was the truth, “I knew I had a little left in Toppers guest room so I went to get it and she followed me. We were in there for two minutes max. But I guess now she’s telling the whole fucking island lies.”
You sighed and muttered, “I should have never trusted Jada.”
Rafe smirked knowing he was getting back on your good graces, “She does tend to start shit.”
“I wasn’t jealous by the way,” You crossed your arms over your chest making your boobs practically spill over your top. Of course Rafe’s blue eyes flicked down towards the cleavage, feeling appreciative of the little amount of clothing you wore.
That lopsided smirk never leaving his lips, “Sure you weren’t baby.”
“Why would I be jealous of someone getting to do it with you in a bed,” That jealousy you were denying was seeping through your words.
“Oh I see,” Rafe sat up straighter at his realization. You were jealous not just because you thought he had slept with someone else but because it was in a bed. The two of you only ever really hung out in Rafe’s truck late at night.
It was an agreement between the two of you to keep your rendezvous a secret. Rafe had a reputation and so did you. Unlike Rafe’s your reputation was one that hadn’t been tainted but drugs and irresponsible spending. You were valedictorian of Kildare Academy and were going to Chapel Hill majoring in environmental sciences. Whenever you went to parties you tried not to drink too much so people couldn’t spread any rumors. You didn’t hook up with anyone besides the one boyfriend you had in high school.
Of course you knew who Rafe was and he knew you. He never tried anything in high school because of your boyfriend and even when you broke up with him he didn’t think he deserved you. He was well into his addiction and knew that was something you wouldn’t tolerate. He got clean and changed, his exterior became even harder.
At parties he didn’t drink as much anymore and just stayed with his group of friends. Occasionally he’d hook up with a touron someone he’d never have to see again. That’s why when you told him about Gia he felt angry. He’d never sleep with anyone from this town expect for you.
You didn’t attend many parties in Outer Banks after you went off to college. You’d come home every Thursday to spend the weekends with your family. If your friends were also in town you’d all go to a party and that’s where Rafe would saw you for the first time after he had gotten clean.
Everything about you felt untouchable, something he was drawn to. He liked how you didn’t pay attention to guys that went up to you and you didn’t drink too much. He also liked how you were shy but not afraid to stand up for yourself. He saw you a few times before he finally went up to you.
You had heard how he’d changed and had noticed the difference. He looked healthier, even more attractive if possible. You were blind to his charm and good looks. At first you were hesitant about giving him your number but did it anyways. You two talked for a bit and when he was in Chapel Hill for a business thing he took you out.
You weren’t one to hook up on the first date but he was different. So different that you both couldn’t even wait to get back to his hotel room and did it in the back seat of his truck. The way he made your body react made you feel like you were on cloud nine.
But then people started talking. People who they went to high school with who also went to UNC saw their date and opened their big mouths. Your friends berated you for going out with someone so horrible. Rafe’s friends gave him a pat on the back and started talking about her in a disrespectful way that he didn’t like. They made Rafe feel like you were too good for him and maybe he was corrupting you and tainting everything you had built for yourself.
That’s when you both came to an agreement to keep things a secret and casual. Only seeing each other when you were both in town. But you still talked almost every day. Rafe often called you at night to tell you about his day and hear about yours. It was a weird complicated relationship. It’s why you guys are where you are right now.
“What do you see?” You asked a bit of annoyance in your voice because of course he can read you like a book.
He crossed his arms over his chest. Your eyes immediately looking down at the width of his arms, her breath hitching at the veins that popped out. “You don’t like that we always do it in the car.”
You rolled your eyes mumbling, “Well no one loves it every time.”
He studied you knowing you were getting nervous as you picked at the chipping polish on your nails, “Then let’s go on my dad’s boat.”
You looked up at him with furrowed brows, “You’re not scared of getting caught?”
He shrugged starting his truck again, “No.”
-
Rafe locked the sliding door behind him. He didn’t care about being caught but he felt like you did. He turned on the lightas dimming them to where they were barely glowing. He still wanted light to see you, to see everything.
He had missed everything about you while going from meeting to meeting. At night in his room before bed his mind would wander off to your soft thighs and full lips. His hand would wander down his chest and stomach, palming himself over his sweatpants. Imagining it was your smaller hand instead. But his imagination never compared to the real thing.
It never compared to you standing in front of him and unbuttoning your cardigan. Your excuse was that it was hot in there, to be fair it was the middle of summer and you were wearing a long sleeve. The heat added a glowing sheen to your skin. He wanted to lick every part of you. Rafe stared at you like a predator eyeing up his prey. You loved having his attention. It made you feel desires, something he never failed at.
“It’s hot,” You practically whispered as he stepped closer.
He hummed in agreement undoing two more buttons of his shirt. He felt himself get harder as you looked up at him through your lashes. Now that he was closer you had to look up at him.
He reached forward and brushed his fingers over her shoulders pushing her hair behind her, “Just because I didn’t call doesn’t mean I wasn’t thinking about you,” he confessed.
You grinned, “You were?”
He nodded, “Course,” he leaned forward cupping your face with his lips brushing against yours, “Always thinking about you.”
He leaned forward pressing his mouth against hers. They both sighed as if they could breathe for the first time.
He kissed you with fervor wanting to savor every taste, sound, and feeling. His hands traveled from your hair down to your waist. Your hands scratched at his scalp, letting him know he was doing everything right.
His kisses moved down to your neck whilst walking you backwards towards the en suite. Your back opened the door and Rafe closed it behind him with his foot. He pulled away from you looking down at your outfit. He but his lip with a toothy smirk, his eyes alone devouring you.
His fingers played with the hem of your skirt, “Did you dress up for me baby?”
Your body burned under his stare. You weren’t a fan of having people’s attention but you loved having his. You nodded your head slowly answering his question.
“Yeah?” He walked you back until you felt the bed against your legs, “Can’t use your words?”
“It’s all for you Rafey,” You batted your lashes at him as you sat down on the edge of the bed.
He hummed smirking before getting on his knees. There isn’t anyone else in this world that would have Rafe Cameron on his knees but you. He slid his hands up your thighs kneading at the flesh. He could get suffocated between them any day and would die a happy man.
His hands pushed your skirt up, raising your hips so he could push it over your hips. You were wearing that pink lacey set he liked the most. The one of many sets he bought you in Milan when he went on a trip.
“You’re so sexy,” He mumbled as he pushed your legs up so your feet were flat on the bed. You laid back holding yourself up on your elbows so you could still watch him. He looked like a starved man and it was making you wetter by the second.
No matter where you guys did it somehow Rafe always managed to take his time and indulge you. You were art to him.
His fingers began tracing the edges of the lace that barely covered your heat. You whined quietly hoping go encourage him to do more. He looked up at you through hooded eyes. He pressed his finger against your clit and watched as your back arched and wyes closed in pleasure.
He placed two fingers over your clit and moved them un slow circles, “This what you want princess?”
You nodded your head furiously, “More Rafey please.” Your whiny tone had him rock hard it was almost painful.
“Like this my love,” He smirked and picked up his speed while taking a finger from his other hand to tease your entrance. Pressing into it through the fabric.
Rafe was mesmorized by how soaked your panties had gotten, “God you’re an angel. So perfect and so wet,” He growled before removing his hands.
You didn’t even have time to whine about the loss of contact before he was roughly tearing your underwear off. Not wanting to waste time in getting repositioned. You gasped at the tearing sound and as soon as you looked down Rafe was latching on to your clit. You moaned loudly throwing your head back. Your hands reached for his short strands of hair, scratching at his scalp as his tongue dipped into your entrance.
The sounds of his sucking and licking making you impossibly wetter. His tongue was magic with the way he circled your clit and sucked causing that warm feeling in your stomach. Your reached up to take your shirt off tossing it to the side. Now you were on full display for him since you chose not to wear a bra.
Rafe looked up for a second his mouth still on you but he watched as your back arched. Hard nipples between your fingers as you moaned. He thought that this image in front of him should be painted on on ceilings and hung up in the louvre.
It only encouraged him more. He could tell your were close by the way your toes curled. Rafe inserted two fingers inside of you. Making a curling motion as he reached that spot he knew all too well. You knew heaven was real because it had to feel like this. The sound of his fingers moving in and out of you was too much.
You moaned, “Rafey I’m gonna,” you whined, “right there.”
He groaned the vibrations of it only making you reach your climax closer, “Cum for me baby. You deserve it,” He said before diving back in to lick up everything.
Your eyes rolled back as you moaned. Your toes curling and muscles clenching as you came. It felt euphoric. He pulled his fingers out slowly while gently kissing your still dripping cunt.
“How was that baby?” Rafe asked in between kisses as he kissed up your body.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, “The best. You’re so good.”
He smiled and leaned forward kissing you, “Well we’re not done. I still need to fuck you,”
“Please,” You whined at his words excited for what was to come.
Hopefully you three more times.
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron imagine#rafe fic#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron obx#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron outer banks
599 notes
·
View notes
Text
the "Ryho" mindset is still happening
I didn’t like how part of the fandom treated Ryan during the pre-split years. This might end up being a lengthy explanation but bear with me because it’s relevant to the modern fandom.
So it was a well-known fact in 2006 that Ryan was straightedge/sober (Spencer was too, but he got less attention from the media). Being straightedge kind of became part of Ryan’s image (here’s a random example) and a lot of fans really connected with that. Then Ryan got drunk for the first time at the end of 2006, and we started seeing pictures of him partying with friends in early 2007 before the band even went to the cabin.
By summer 2007 Ryan was like a completely different person. I get that the drugs & alcohol probably helped him become more outgoing, but I also think he was just becoming way more confident & comfortable as he grew up. And SO many fans seriously hated the change. Fans still randomly criticized the other 3 guys, but that stuff seemed more like the regular small complaints that happen just for the sake of complaining when people are bored (ex: Jon’s beard existing or vanishing). The stuff about Ryan was very different in tone and there were some consistent themes throughout the last half of 2007: Ryan was too in love with Keltie, he dressed like a hippie now, and he partied a lot. Basically, he was changing. He was no longer the same person that he was during the Fever era.
It honestly seemed like many fans were angry at this new version of Ryan for taking the old version away from them, as though they had some sort of ownership. There was tons of drama over the fact that we were seeing lots of pictures of Ryan partying with various friends (some of whom posted detailed stories about their nights or how drunk everyone was). Some fans said Ryan was a hypocrite or a liar and tried to make him out to be an alcoholic, as though he’d personally betrayed them by destroying who he was "supposed" to be.
However, I think most of the complaints were actually rooted in something bigger: Ryan looked happy.
I felt like a lot of the younger fans had latched onto the idea of a shy, wounded guitarist who needed to be saved or *understood* or whatever… you know the cliche I mean?? That was the vibe that the media sometimes tried to give him during the Fever era, so even they knew it would sell! But now Ryan was partying a lot with a wide range of friends, was dating Keltie, had completely abandoned his Fever-era aesthetic, and seemed to be closest with Jon in 2007 instead of Brendon. He was “destroying” the static image of Ryan that fangirls had taped onto their bedroom walls.
I remember a decent amount of fans actually admitting that they wished Ryan would go back to being depressed. Like they literally wanted him to be unhappy & unsure of himself because they liked him better that way. Others accepted that Ryan was changing and were happy for him, but still thought his bitter lyrics were better. And then even if other people wouldn’t admit that they were clinging onto an old version of Ryan, their main criticism still seemed to revolve around the fact that Ryan was living his life, having fun, and being different than he was the previous year.
I saved one fan’s post because it summed up some of the complaints this year:
The nickname “Ryho” really took off in late 2007.
Obviously a ton of fans loved Ryan (and the kids who were bashing him still claimed to love him too). The petty criticism just became annoying to me. People slammed his new clothes, his new hairstyles, the way he carried himself or talked, his weight/body, his “creepy” fingers, and the “girly” things he told Kerrang he liked (pumpkin spice candles, vanilla milkshakes, his puppy, and Titanic). Even the kids who used to love Ryan’s mild arrogance were now holding it against him. A lot of the fans who were criticizing Ryan in the last half of 2007 jumped right back to being his “fans” once the Pretty. Odd. era got going and things were interesting again, but I guess it shouldn’t have been surprising that so many fans were able to easily switch to bashing Ryan once again in spring 2009 when he was changing yet again. It’s like they were so focused on what Ryan wasn’t doing that spring (ex: recording the third Panic album) that they couldn’t see or accept what he was doing: building a whole new life for himself in a completely different music scene with the new crew of friends he’d been hanging out with for a while (Alex Greenwald’s scene).
One of the things that stuck out to me in late spring & summer 2009 was how many fans felt rejected by Ryan (and Jon). Those fans had basically idolized prior versions of Ryan and were hurt to slowly watch him destroy all of that as they realized he didn’t want to be part of the machine of the music scene that the fandom still loved. That hurt translated to them lashing out in anger.
So you know how I mentioned that in 2006 part of the fandom liked the idea of a shy, wounded guitarist who wrote bitter lyrics and needed to be *understood * and saved? And they resented Ryan for destroying that concept in 2007 and taking away the Ryan that they loved? They wanted to view him as a static character and couldn’t accept that he’s a constantly-evolving human. This is still happening today. Some fans are still upset that the version of Ryan that they want was taken away (ex: Ryan left the Fever era behind, left Panic behind). Except now instead of resenting Ryan for the choices that he made, some modern fans have rewritten the past to blame external forces like Brendon instead. I've been trying so hard to wrap my mind around this for a while, so here's my take on it... keep in mind that this is just my own observation/guess. Ryan isn't very visible now, so people are free to project a lot onto him. I think that by blaming Brendon (who is the visible one left), people can still happily view Ryan as a helpless victim who needs saving, and never feel rejected or betrayed by his choices... then it's like Ryan didn’t actually want to leave them, and could still be the person that they need him to be. Idk I'm still trying to comprehend what happened to the recent fandom tbh.
I'm absolutely not saying that all of Ryan's current fans are like this!! It's just that some little bits I've seen are concerning because they essentially take away Ryan’s agency & erase him. Even on a smaller scale, I've still noticed how some modern fans focus heavily on stories that dramatize Ryan's pain & portray him as a passive victim, regardless of whether those stories conflict with reality. Like why exactly is that angle a priority? Some examples:
Camisado is for dancing
the "funeral picture" isn't real
Lollapalooza was a fun show
June and July are different months
Ryan participated in the stage gay
some of the Ryden stuff could probably qualify too
Keep in mind that I'm saying this as a fan of Ryan. I am genuinely happy to see that he has so many newer fans! But sometimes I'm a little concerned that patterns might be repeating and maybe some people are more focused on their own creation of a character/image than an actual musician who has had many many phases.
#i will see tomorrow if it was a good idea to pull something from my draft#add a few sentences#and then post without really editing#i'm tired whatever
84 notes
·
View notes